Piece of "Dear Amnesia"

So I started reading my LiveJournal from the beginning. I wanted to see exactly where I was in 2004. I found a post I had made with an small sample of the novel I've been writing for about, well 3 years now. I of course remember the sample. I've read a thousand times. But what I didn't remember were the comments. So I decided to post the sample here and include one anonymous comment that made me laugh.

The Doctors Office:

Saturday night at the gas station. All anyone ever comes in for are lotto tickets and cigarettes. Half of everybody who comes in is either drunk or on their way to being drunk. All I want is a fucking beer and a one way ticket to anywhere but here.
A woman walks in all sketched out.I suspect she’s illiterate and I quickly realise I’m right as she has me reading everything to her. She wants to use her bank card to purchase some smokes, and I have to baby-step her through it about eight times. It’s excruciating in a way that only public servants understand. In my discomfort I have the urge to lunge over the counter and put her out of my misery. But I don’t. I suck it up ad smile, while a line up of disgruntled customers pile up behind her with a hate on for me. That's the best part about public service. All those people who sit there and count out their pennies, waisting everybody’s time, all those paper money fanatics, they’re not the ones that everyone hates. They hate the clerk.It couldn't possibly be the annoying customer in front of them that's been standing there for 10 minutes searching for that last penny...
If the customers aren’t enough to make you prey for death, then you should actually see the store that I work in. It’s bright yellow. Yellow like you wouldn’t believe. Even the customers complain about the colour of the walls. I always say “ think how i feel, I stare at this for eight hours at a time. You can leave whenever you want.” I can be like that. A bit of an asshole. I don’t really mean to be, but because I do it with a smile, people always just laugh and don’t take offense. I swear you can say almost anything with the right tone of voice and a big smile and no one will hear what your saying. They just see and your face, hear the pitch of your voice and play along. Ever play that game? You know, where you say hi to someone in a strange way? Then they say hi, right back to you,in exactly the same way? Well it’s kind of like that. Totally subconscious. People are sheep. Anyway, the walls are putrid and when I’ve been there for 14 hours working a double shift into graveyard, I start to feel ill. I gotta go outside and look at the black ground or the black sky. Anything but that terrible yellow.
Devon walks in. Devon walks in and opens his mouth. He opens his mouth and says “I love you Amy”. Devon is this seventeen year old kid who shaves his head and bikes all over the city. i see him almost everywhere I go. He’s always at the bowl in the park doing amusing little tricks on his bike. Devon is kinda cute. Cute in the sense that he’s seventeen and has a pretty girlfriend who he willingly cheats on every chance he gets. I work with him. One night on back shift I ended up kissing this strange little kid. yes I know, bad me. What do I think I’m doing kissing someone who’s still in high school? But anyway hes a little horn dog and I find that interesting.
My reply to Devon is simple. “I know” I get cocky sometimes, just because people hand it to me. Give me the up sometimes. Might as well take it and run.I’m also not into joking around right now. I drank four cups of rancid coffee that we brew in the store and I felt nauseous. I needed to get out of that vomit coloured shit hole. Seriously, the walls reminded me of this nasty yellow vomit my dog once puked up. I suffer it with a smile and a Death Cab album. “so this is the new year, and I don’t feel any better” exactly what i was thinking Ben. I moved back to Halifax after a year of my home town. trying to look at life differently, start over, make new friends. I have somewhat. but I don’t feel any better. I guess environment means shit.
I always thought that your surroundings were responsible for sadness and depression. I’ve been in denial of clinical depression for years. Believing myself to be a victim of my environment, that by getting myself into a more positive habitat, I wouldn’t find myself so hopeless. So either everywhere is hopeless, or it’s just me. My entire family has been medicated except for me. I refuse it. I’ll get over it all myself I say. But years of “getting over it” myself isn’t panning out so well and i find myself in the doctors office after work again at my mothers request.This will achieve nothing. I’m doomed to ride this out.
I hate the doctors office. it’s cold and full of disease. I liked my doctor even though he had his hands in my crotch, which any girl will agree is completely un-nerving. Especially when your doctor is closer to your age than most of your boyfriends.
“Amy for Dr. Carbyn” I recite to the lady at the front desk. She looks over worked and I look like I haven’t slept in days. To top that off, I’ve had the shits for two solid weeks and I‘m preying that they have a public washroom. (yeah I told you girls shit. you didn’t believe me did you?) I run to the bathroom after she points the way. I’m pasty and craving a cigarette, but lighting up in a doctors bathroom seems somewhat inappropriate of course. There are cups by the sink and I reach for one...but wait, this is a doctors office.... who pissed in those cups? I hesitate and begin to wander the path these cups may have traveled to find themselves sitting on a counter stacked near a sink. They looked suspicious. really suspicious. They weren’t those typical little bathroom dixie cups that you’d expect to see. They were plastic and clear... Clear? So you could see its contents? i hesitate more, how thirsty am i?Well Amy lets think about this, who’s gonna leave a piss cup near a sink? I might. Well, it is one of those perfect crimes. No one would ever know. It’s the same reason I don’t leave my toothbrush in the bathroom, god knows who would grab it and give it a nice swipe around the toilet. Or maybe they were rinsed out and neglected... who knows! Well they don’t look used. I shake my head. I’m loosing it. I’m paranoid, I’m psychotic. I pick up a cup rebelling against my own deluded thoughts and fill it with rancid city water.God I’d almost rather drink the piss.How long have i been in here? Fuck. I run out and sit down in the waiting room, hoping I didn’t miss my turn to chat with the all knowing human inspector.

Good timing though, the doctor is just heading out of his room and calls my name. I saunter into the office head down, trying not to let anyone in the room see my face. Do they think I’m pregnant? I bet they think I’m going in to see if I’m pregnant. I bet they think that I’m a whore....It always bothered me to be a teenager and go into a doctors office looking perfectly healthy. I always thought people would assume I was a disgraceful little girl running around fucking random teenage boys. Maybe they didn’t.

Anyway, he closes the door behind me, I get nervous. I always get nervous when strange men close doors. “I haven’t seen you in a while Amy.” it’s true, it’s been a good two years since I’ve stepped foot into that place. Since i got over mono, since I left Danny.
There’s far too much silence in here. it makes me anxious and suddenly I feel like bolting for the door. This is the uneasy part where my doctor asks me why I’m here, and what do i say? “uh, I feel like shit? I’m loosing it? I’ve been putting cigarettes out on my arms all week for kicks? I took up smoking 2 months ago even though i’ve never smoked in my life? Do I tell him I’m madly in love with this boy who left? Do I tell him about you? About you my close friend, who lost his mind. how you can’t remember anything that's happened in the last four months? Do I tell him about my childhood? No. I hesitate and I say “My grandfather passed away and I guess i’m not dealing with it so well. My mom wanted me to come in.” At least that he can understand.

It happened a week ago and completely pushed me off my feet. Among all the shit that happened, I’ve been fairly balanced, but this flattened me. It was the end of the line.

He replies that he’s sorry to hear about it. Hands me this pamphlet on grief. That was pretty much it. He hustled me out of the office with a piece of paper and bought himself more time for more patients.
I felt pretty insignificant and as I was leaving I kept feeling guilty. Who the hell am I to bother anyone with my depression when people are dying everywhere. And who the hell am I to even want to die? Wanting to throw it all away when so many people don’t have the choice between life or death.I felt like I was insulting every terminal patient in the world. Selfish, and I head back home feeling worse than before.


-End of Chapter-

The premise of this novel (that remains unfinished) : The story is written as if they were letters to an old friend who suffers from short term memory loss and amnesia. The title of the unfinished novel is "Dear Amnesia" but I've toyed with changing the title to many other things. I always end up reverting back to this one however.

Now the funny comment about this on my livejournal is:

"it's good, needs a spell check but it's a good build to a good depth. I find it interesting that there is little description of all of the surrounding characters, only the ones that stand out to the narrator. It builds properly to the crux of the piece that the narrator is depressed so all of these surrounding characters would be dull to the narrator's mind leaving the reality of why this Devon kid would stand out intact. It's realistic and honest writing that manages to get across the internal feelings of a narrator rather than to follow the formulas of organizational writing that make a lot of writing sound the same. Keep it real like this, edit some, spell check much, I wanna read the next installment... I prefer this time of run on writing when it builds like that and the explanation comes out slowly, it's akin to learning the narrator from the inside out. More interesting than "she had black hair and was depressed"
-skinned


I to this day have no idea who this person is. I find it funny that they merely observationally wrote about my chapter.

Doomed to play the waitress forever?

I've been working for the same company for just over a year now. After the first two months of employment with this corporation, I went from temporary fulltime office clerk to permanent fulltime sales coordinator. This meant a double in salary plus benefits and commissions. It's a really good position and an enormous step up from where I started and I earned it.

When I started here, I brought my female boss coffee about 4 times a day. She loves coffee. Then it slowly became getting my female co-worker coffee as well. Then it became getting the bigger boss coffee...then it became getting out technical support technician coffee and finally our marketing specialist. Lets not forget any visitors that might be here. In the run of a day I make roughly 6 to 7 coffees about 4 to 5 times a day. Now that I am no longer office bitch and have been promoted to a permanent person with demanding sales responsibilities, I'm actually still doing all this.

I thought I kind of of risen above office paper pushing clerk, coffee gal. I suppose not. To make things ever-so much fun, my male boss often remarks "make me a sandwich while your at it!" or "can't you make some muffins or cinnamon buns?" Although he's joking, its just typical and indicative of his personality and that he really does see women as sustenance fetching vehicles. There are dozens and dozens of other examples of blatant sexism but they do not relate to this article because this particular rant is about the dispensing drinks.

My current situation is, I am about to meet with one of the big corporate head haunchos to discuss my future with the company. I am up for a new position and a bigger salary. What's to say that if I am awarded the position that I won't still be playing the role of cocktail waitress?

Chivalry and Romance Dead?

I wanted to address the existence and non-existence chivalry and romance in North American Dating rituals. (I don't know anything about the rest of the world)

I have often thrown around such statements as "chivalry is dead". I do believe that its almost completely extinct. This is often blamed on the feminism, which I just find really funny. Anti-feminist groups spouting rehtoric about the death of romance and the "hook-up" culture being responsible for it. After all, if 'women weren't giving away the milk for free, maybe we'd get something out of it'. To me this is laughable. Who has this outlook on dating? Do some women really expect to be paid in dinners, movies and flowers before they sleep with a person? It sounds like covert prostitution - okay thats a little extreme, granted. But what person puts a price on their willingness to engage in sexual activity? I know I don't. But I have met gals in the past who would only sleep with a guy if he showed her the "right" time, the "right" amount of times. On the other hand, I've met those gals who run out everynight hooking up with different guys and then becoming attached and confused when the hook-up leads to nothing more than a one night stand.

However, I don't think chivalry is completely dead and forgotten. I believe that men have used "gender equality" as an excuse to not show their appreciation to their significant other.However, not all men of course. I've known many men, and young men, who wine and dined me. (never got flowers before tho) But there are men who do sweet things. I also don't think all ownership to be romantic lies on the man. I love taking my boyfriend to romantic dinners, or making them myself at home and enjoying a romantic evening.

I think that the reason women believe chivalry is dead, lies largely in the type of men they socialize with. Not every guy is going to be sweet and spoiling. However, I do agree that it is really really hard to find a good man and a good man who's personality is compatable with your own.

Dating is so complicated. There is no sure fire solution. There's no guaranteed way to meet the person of your dreams. It just happens or it doesn't. When I'm single and looking, I try people on. I don't get serious with anyone right away and I date multiple people at once. I may even sleep with some of them. But chivarly and romance isn't actually dead. You just have to look really really hard for it.

But seriously, why would you want a man who feels he must "buy" your bedtime romps? The key to knowing you got bad egg, is that the romantic dinners and flowers stop after the first few times you've fucked.

Gender Equality Cause of Illness!

You've got the read this!

It's article about how gender equality is bad for your health.. It's so fucking stupid. I laughed so hard!

Pan's Labyrinth

Last night I saw Pan's Labyrinth last night. I read online that the Spanish title, actually translates to "The Labyrinth of the Faun". There is no Pan and apparently the director said that the faun-like character in the movie is not Pan.

Okay the movie was really scarey. As desensitized as I am, the gore made me cringe in parts and the strange white beast depicted in the paintings as a child eating monster on its own walls, was terrifying to look at. It sat motionless at a great table and I was riddled with anxiety waiting for it to move.

The movie is about a young girl who must fufill tests inorder to return to the magical world she is descended from. She must complete 3 tasks as the world she was born into crumbles around her. In the middle of the Spanish Civil War, our young heroin accompanies he mother to a Mill that has been set up as a military fort. She is forced to live with widowed mother who remarries a tyrant Captain. Most of the movie, you just want that Captain to die.

Although I enjoyed the movie, the entire time you are just waiting for Felia to get into the magical world. The movie is almost more about the rebellion than the labyrinth.

I won't give away any of the surprises. But I will say that ending was satisfactory although not exactly a child's ending. In whole, this is somewhat a grims fairytale. I did enjoy it however. The pace of the movie is well-balanced between the reality of the war and fantasy of the labyrinth quests.

Tenacious D- The Pick of Destiny

I finally got to see this. My boyfriend picked it up for me at the store while I layed sick in bed watching Woody Allen oldies. I really enjoyed the beginning of this movie! It freaking rocked. That kid that played Jack Black as an angsty child that liked to say fuck, was awesome. So funny! There were guest appearances by some of rocks finest! Dave Grohl is the devil! Dio plays himself. Immediately I laughed when little Jacks father enters the scene and is played by Meatloaf.

I had heard the Sasquatch song somewhere before and remembered thinking it was too rediculous to be funny but now in the context of the movie, its freaking hillarious.

I missed this movie in the theater and remember hearing very little about it when it was released. Turns out the movie made little more than 12 million worldwide.This could have been attributed to the fact that it was release during the Borat uproar, proving once again that timing is everything.

There's nothing overly originaly about the movie. The plot is simply about 2 losers looking for a legendary pick that made all the great rock icons famous. The movie is litered with rock referrences and like so many great movies, pokes fun at the die hard rocker who's fat, lazy and doesn't work, who clings desperately to a dream of one day living the sweet party life of rock and roll. Perhaps this isn't overly relatable to the general public, but it was for me.

Basically, if you play guitar or obssess about rock n roll you'll find this movie amusing. And I mean, come on! it's Tenacious D!

The Smashing Pumpkins are teasing me. They have confirmed a date in Toronto for the Virgin festival in September. Bjork will also be joining the festival. They also dangle a release date for their 6th album, right in front of my nose.That being 7.7.07. That's so cruel. Why can't they just surprise me and have a record all ready.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am a hopeless Pumpkins fan. I've been waiting for this day for a long time! Pretty much ever since I saw them play their last Canadian date with Summersault.