I wish I had a river I could skate away on

There's an eternal battle that I think most people wage throughout their lives, one that never really goes away, and even when we know the outcome, once in a while we still have to face it.

The battle has to do with deciding what kind of person we are, when it comes to... well, decisions.

I subscribed myself, and have for a couple years now, to "the flow", as I call it. I once had a conversation with a friend about how I look at life like I would a river. It can be calm and slow going, either through some beautiful places or some boring places, or even ugly, unpleasant places. And the river can have it's fast moments, pick up into rapids in no time, going so fast you don't even notice the scenery that's passing you by, WHICH can have its benefits. If the scenery sucks, you don't want to worry about that as well as surviving the rapids, do you? it can also have its downsides, such as, if you pass something by, an opportunity that needs to be perfectly timed so that you escape the rapids in time to catch it.

Once in a while though, a person needs to take a break from the river, to get out of the water and just feel the solid earth beneath your feet. It's this part I've always had a problem with. I like the water, I stay in it as much as possible, so I'm not always sure how to deal with the lack of movement on the ground. I guess I'm not so grounded, haha!

Now, I've shared my little River analogy. But the eternal battle isn't so much with dealing with the flow, as it is in dealing with one part of the flow, which I mentioned earlier in the rapid scenario:

passing opportunities.

There are, in the most basic sense, two ways to go through life. Taking ricks, or following logic. A lot of people follow the logical route. In this way, a person can be capable of avoiding rapids. They plan their route ahead, looking for these rough areas ahead of time so that, when they finally have to face them, they are more prepared and sturdy for it.

I do this. We all plan ahead to a degree.

But then there's risk taking. You don't have to be a risk-taker to take a risk. Let's say you planned ahead, you followed all that logic, and you're floating along, and it turns out that the river has recently become swelled, for reasons beyond your control, and the water has become rough, faster, churned, just plain different. It's unexpected, it's new, and it's changing things. you may find that the route you planned has merged with another path, another river that flows freely according to itself.. and it brings some things with it.

We're back to that problem in the rapids, where the water may be too fast to take up an opportunity. But this water isn't that fast, you can see a chance coming up... another path... and the other river is going there, and it looks good, but it's not what you planned...

what do you do?

I used to think I was only a logical person, that I wouldn't be stupid enough to fall into things that had no way to survive, no point to them, and had no benefit to me. And I even though I could avoid those that may benefit me for a while, but may delay me as well.

Frankly, in the last year or so, I've figured out that I have time. I can afford delays, nothing can really delay me that much. I go with the flow. I'll go where my river takes me. Because I enjoy "going with the flow", this can leave me in confusing times... but I accept the confusion, and I try to enjoy it the best I can.

It's all experience, and I like experience.

And I recommend it. You can only plan so much, only paddle for so long before something gives, either your muscles or the paddle... so it's good to learn to go with the flow as early as possible.

Secretary

Earlier this summer, before I found myself with employment, I watched a movie called Secretary. When you first read over the summary of the movie, you find yourself caught off guard... or rather, in an argument with yourself:

Do you watch a movie about a woman who begins a Submissive relationships with her boss, just from curiosity, or the actors in it? Or do you pretend that you are a normal person with a normal sex life, and don't dare to entertain the idea of anything otherwise anywhere else in the world?

Frankly, the movie is genius, hilarious, awkward of course... but just plain great.

I first watched it because I was going through a brief James Spader period. That's the guy from Stargate and Crash... the old crash, not the new one.

He plays a lawyer who obviously enjoys bossing people around a little too much. She plays a submissive girl with self-harm issues. 

The scene where their relationship officially breaches professional boundaries is certainly an interesting one, not to say that the rest of the scenes aren't.

In this scene, She makes a typo. Up to this point, he's been fighting back the urge to bring her into his world of... well, a world she knows nothing of, and he knows this. He's had some bad experiences in the past, and isn't sure it will be good for her. But after catching her hurting herself, and finally becoming upset with her little ticks, he brings her into his office to "punish her" over the typo.

He instructs her to bend over the desk, elbows on the tables, so that her face is directly above the paper, and she is told to read it out loud. After spending a moment confused, she begins to read the letter. Half way through the first sentence, he slaps her ass. Hard.

Awkward giggling comes out of me at this scene. I would never watch this movie with my family. But it's a great movie simply because of its layers.

You see, when he first begins this relationship with her in his office over the typo, not only does he touch her in an outwardly sexual manner, clearly defining their relationship in a new manner, but he also touches her hand. The moments of silence afterwards have their own story.

In an obvious manner, the movie is different, funny, and easy to dismiss unless you look into those other layers and the invisible boundaries between them, and their relevance to the real world of relationships.

I could say a lot about this movie, make my own guesses on what it's about. The exchange of power between two lovers (Is he powerful for being the abusive one, or is she powerful for managing to bring him back into a relationship he's trying to run away from?), or it can be about the unique nature of attraction, what brings two people together will not bring two other people together, and complexities like that...

human nature?

All I can really do is suggest watching it yourself. It's a great movie...

but don't watch it with your mom. 

Shuffle

Once in a while I like to make a new playlist for myself. Really, being a commuter, I need some new sounds fairly frequently.

This, of course, means that I wrack up a lot of playlists after a while... Not that that has happened yet, I've only just started listening to playlists recently, but already there are a few.

I recently made two, one titled :(, the other :#...

I was going for a mood...

The art of creating a playlist isn't really an art. It's simple: If you know what the listener wants to hear, give it to them... and slowly broaden the horizon.

I don't make lists for other people very often, but these two recent playlists were made for someone else. I love sharing music, I love passing it on, seeing what someone else thinks when they listen, what it reminds them of...

And yet, when I'm sitting in my music class hearing these same things, I can't stand the "fluffy" words (as someone so rightfully put it). I can't stand hearing people say "It feels like the player is mourning" or some bullshit like that.

I don't want to hear that. I want smells. I want to hear "This reminds me of this one time I was driving to my friends house out in the country, and it was foggy, and all I could smell was manure, but it was nice".

I want to hear that.

I want to collect those sorts of inferences. 

So when it comes to sharing music, I can be a little... surprising to some people. Well, anyone who gets a CD will find a surprise or two in there, usually just from a band they've never listened to before. It happens.

What catches people off guard is why I choose a song.

For instance, my friend Nick asked me a while ago to make a list of songs that reminded me of winter. To this request, I had to explain that some songs on there would resemble summer songs more (simply for their lyrics), but they reminded me of winter because of the timing of the first time I heard that song, or got into that song.

For instance, what does the song "Black" by Pearl Jam have to do with winter? or "look at me" by John Lennon? Neither of these songs are about winter, there's no winter scenery in them, and yet these sorts of songs fill up that playlist. All but perhaps four of the forty-six songs in that list have nothing to do with winter. But they remind me of a cold time, a blue time, an empty time.

I have a large music collection, about 11,000 songs, and it spans a few genres, to say the least... but frequently, my playlists don't suffice, they don't carry me through the subway ride, and I end up searching through the artists (all 1176 of them) to find the right tone.

In the end, when I'm desperate, I put the entire collection on shuffle.

I like drawing parallels between one simple habit to another larger picture. I do that. I look for metaphors. So lately I've been paying attention to my music habits, why I impulsively download (oops, I mean BUY) an artists entire catalogue... when I probably won't hear all those songs. Sure, with the Beatles I've listened to them all, but that's only a couple hundred songs. Nuthin. What about the other guys? Rolling Stones, Joni Mitchell (I admit, I have all her albums and then some, but only listen to "blue", "Ladies of the Canyon" and "Shine"), John Lennon (I love him... so I'm working on it) and Paul McCartney (I'm never going to listen to his "symphony")? what about them?

Pack Rat - obsessive collector - what else?

And in the end, I shuffle it up anyway? I create a mess of all these things I've gathered...

It's an idea I play with. But to return to the start of this post, I do enjoy making playlists. They get long (come on, that many songs, how could I make a short list?), so it can overwhelm people into not listening at all... but I make them.

Ever seen the movie "High Fidelity?"

Under the Microscope..

I haven't been in a science class since tenth grade.

After that experience of a horrible teacher (which convinced me I was a moron), I avoided science like the plague. I was an arts student. I took all Music, Drama, Art, Photography courses available, and my good marks in those classes gave me a high average. It opened doors that I didn't notice were open, because I had no intention of walking through them.

No, I was the kind of person who just wanted to stay in her own home, and deal with the same things day in and day out, because it was easy, and predictable.

Of course, I moved to Oakville, and found out how stupid I was acting. This realization of naivety, among others, nearly cost me a friendship. But it also sped up the growing process for a while, Probably because I was so out of it, I couldn't feel the growing pains. Becoming an alcoholic helped as well.

When I moved back from Oakville, I decided to apply for school. What drove me to this unprecedented conclusion (considering I wanted to spend my life as a starving artist before that point) was figuring out that I needed to make a real living to get what I wanted out of life: Enough money to eventually say "fuck you all" and retire early. And maybe travel... and have a good excuse to forget to call family on holidays. Yes, I was becoming a cold person, and I can even pinpoint the exact moment that that snowball began to roll downhill, but that's not what this post is about.

This post is about the fact that when I decided to apply for school, and eventually decided to take Psychology, I did not realize that I would soon come face to face with something that I had once avoided like the plague:

Biology.

Actually, it was Chemistry I avoided, so when I chose Biology as an elective, I thought I would be fine.

oops.

Biology requires a Lab component. 30 percent of my final grade rests solely on my performance in the lab. Shouldn't be hard, I can learn whatever I want to learn, I am as capable as the next person.

Sadly, I have more anxiety issues than the next person. Much more. many many many more. See, it's been five years since I went near such a science that required goggles and a lab coat. And my class is full of student who have done otherwise. I am a minority...

I am going to look like a fool.

But this is life. I have made choices in my life knowing full-well that I was walking into a mine zone. I could be blown apart at any moment, lose a limb, or my life, with a single misstep. But I choose to go in there anyway. Call it courage, call it blind faith in my incredible ability to attract all sizes of luck, and call it naivety... I'm doing it.

I really wish these things came a little easier to me. Psychology is nothing to me, I get A's in it just fine... but sometimes I remember back to when I decided to go to Ryerson to study in a field I previously had no interest in, why I didn't go to some schools like UofT for something I've spent my life in (that was art history), or to York for the same. Why... why... did I chose Ryerson?

Because they got back to me first.

My future decided on the timing of the post.

Emily, my dear, you are a fool, and will be nothing else in Biology on Tuesday. And I shall bask in anything that comes from it.

Analyze this...

I think relationships are beautiful things. Sometimes they can leave me wondering how two people could have possibly met and stuck together, sometimes it breaks my heart to see it end.

I like to think of myself as a collector of many things. I'm a pack-rat, both in my room, and in my relationships. I haven't had many relationships with men, in that I've only had a couple actual boyfriends in my lifetime, and none all that recently (though some may disagree).

Love confuses a person. Sex can too, but if you play it right, it can be a reassuring thing. It can distract you from other emotions that may not deserve such attention.

Having a social life can do this as well, but I don't have much of a social life. I have more of a sex life, somehow, and I suppose it's how I managed one without the other that I am writing this blog.

Like I said, relationships fascinate me, and I suppose it's this small obsession that has managed to convince Karma to send some of the strangest relationships imaginable my way.

For a long period of time, some of my closest friends were in their thirties and forties, and it never struck me as odd, though it did strike my mother.

The men I became involved with have, save for one, always been after they've dated (or tried dating) a friend of mine. Or they were related to a friend of mine. Either way, with most of the people I have been with, our paths had crossed before in already intimate ways.

Details on these relationships will remain a little vague, but anyone who knows me knows what I'm talking about. I've always found it humourous that I've attracted these sorts of things, and I'm still dumbfounded when they happen again and again. I'm always surprised, pleasantly surprised, even if it hurts sometimes. Makes for a great life story, someday I'll write it all out.

Everyone has a story, everyone has some messed up friendships that, logically, shouldn't have ever occurred, yet managed to sneak in there. It's tracing those lines, finding the entry-ways for these black horse relationships that catches me, every time a new one comes up and develops into something big, I feel a combination of euphoria, amazement, and sometimes incredible depression at it all.

I like taking those adventures. 

but it can come at a cost... 

Familial relationships have been another matter with me. A person hardly has to know me long to figure out that I'm not a hugger... But in fact, I am. I come off as a cold, distant person, but one thing I love more than anything is the touch of another person. Even if I jump at the touch of someone else (usually just the first one, of anything resembling a poke), it's only because of how little of it I get, relatively. There are different ways to touch. I mentioned earlier my prevalent sex life, so a person might think "Emily, isn't that touching?"

Yes, yes, it is, and sure, I like that kind too. But of course I'm talking about the Intimate touch, a caress, a brush, a hand on the back, or wandering fingers.

So I like to try and trace back to when I developed that stand-offish projection, even among those who are supposed to know me best... and I realize that maybe they aren't too far off.

I don't LIKE being called Cold, but considering my ideals about touching other people, or opening up to anyone (the ideals being that I reserve those two things for when I really feel safe with someone, which is rare), I understand it a bit better.

I like to imagine that I'm blind.

It's the only way I can make myself reach out into the world.