A Gentle Reminder

     After almost a year, I tired my hand at driving again.  Aside from maxing out at a rousing 30Km/h, I thought I did pretty well.  I have yet to try driving in the city.  I've only practised on the deserted roads in the centre of the little island we vacation on.
     The middle of the island is flat and grassy.  The warm, dry, fire-hazardous grass is home to crickets, quails, mice, and bunnies.  I was surprised, and slightly relieved not to have spotted any lagomorphs playfully bounding around the island thus far on our journey, as bunnies are a little bit of a gut wrenching reminder of my recent ex's positive qualities.
      It's too damn bad they have to be so cute.  I got super stoked when a cluster of wild rabbits wanted to cross the road just ahead of my car.

     After watching one after another join their mates across the street, I was left with a distinct stabbing pain in my chest.  After a few mellow dramatic, hammed up sobs followed by maniacal laughter, I received a "what the hell is wrong with you now?" glare from my ever sympathetic mother.  Thankfully that put me back in the driving zone quickly.

     Earlier that day, I went into my favourite New Age store.  It offers scientifically viable services such as: angel readings, chakra readings, aura readings, and aroma therapy!  I like this hippie hut because back in the day when I had access to the equipment, I would buy gemstones for jewellery making.  I like it now because it confirms stereotypes and supplies me with decently priced Nepalese jewellery.
      Since I was a little girl, I have wanted tarot cards.  After a few months scouring the more colourful areas of Vancouver to no avail, I gave up on my dream.  As soon as I walked into the New Age store, I knew.  I asked the same dreamy looking clerk that's always there if she had tarot cards.  She pointed majestically to the far corner of the store.  The last, perfect, classic pack of cards was there on a stand, just for me.  It was fate.

     You see, dear reader, when one looks for their own deck of future divulging tarot cards, it is recommended their deck is picked for them by a person of a mystical persuasion for the bond between the cards and the divinator to be especially strong.  Little does she know that I'm probably going to bust this deck out at parties as a fun trick and make my own deck with personalized cards based on the original set, but that's ok.
     I eagerly read the instruction booklet and began assigning cards for the people in my life who will be common significators.  It was a hard decision between the Queen of Wands, who wears a tunic with lizards on it, or the Queen of Pentacles, whose personality matches mine.  I was originally drawn to the Queen of Pentacles, so she seemed the more fitting choice.  I searched through the deck for myself.  Lo and behold, she kind of looked like me, meaning she has short brown hair and a face.

     Upon closer inspection, I was floored by the cruel irony of the universe present in the lower right-hand corner of the card.

     Now by this point in the day, I had been doing some thinking about symbolism, memories, how sentimental I am and such.  Instead of spiralling into sorrow and wallowing in my own crapulence,  I realized that the lump-in-the-throat feeling may be a good thing.  Remorse that something is over means it wasn't a total waste of time; to me, that is very good thing.  Growing apart, death, and moving on are all a part of life.  I am the kind of girl that normally holds grudges, long, bitter grudges.  Strangely enough, not this time.  Could I be growing up to some degree?  As much as I do not enjoy feeling melancholy, heartache reminds us that the world is so much bigger than ourselves, and that we share our experiences with the people we choose to surround ourselves with.

Quirks

     We are all have our little quirks.  Cough, cough, some people more than others, cough, and I like to think, or hope, that those quirks make us more memorable and lovable to some extent.  Another bonus of going to the cabin for me is that I get to indulge in one of my favourites.  I love returning small dead animals, usually on roads, back to nature.  We all deserve respect in death.  Mice, voles, shrews, birds (depending on how intact they still are and if their species is a common disease carrier) and whatever I can manage to move with sticks I find on the roadside should be treated with care and reverence too.
     A few days ago, my pal and I were walking up to another friend's cabin via a shared driveway with tenants.  We were chatting with our friend's father, who had been sawing wood in the drive, when I noticed something small, light grey, and soft looking in the wood chip strewn dirt. 

     My first reaction was to search for appropriate burial transportation twigs.  Of course my friend knew what to expect, she had bared witness to many of my impromptu celebration of life ceremonies in her time.  My friend's father, on the other hand, was slightly confused at first.  Thankfully, he is a quirky man and did not question the valour of my strange task.

       I had a little trouble picking up the shrew with my chopstick arrangement, I'm used to honouring animals with holes in them or flat spots, so I wanted to keep this little critter intact and unmarred.  I finally got the wee shrew secured between the twigs and took it over to an ivy covered stump.  I consulted the baffled tenant,who had been helping our friend's father and his land lord, and laid the tiny creature to rest beneath the emerald leaves.
     This was when our friend's father decided to introduce me to the tenant.
     "Haaaaaaaaaave you met Cari?" he asked the slighly disgruntled islander.
     I feel no shame from what I do.  Morbid? A little bit.  Gross?  Maybe to some.  I love giving animals peace after losing their lives at the hands of humans.  Be it inadvertently by run-ins with larger carnivorous pets or by car or by poison, I will be there to offer some form of solace.  In the end, we are all alone.  We are all animals.  You don't often see humans rotting by the side of the road now do you?  Why should a mouse?  This is one of my many missions in life.

     Do not get me wrong, I am NOT burying each dead mammal individually.  I fling them into bushes and say a few garbled words.  "Thank you for your time on this earth, peace be with you little creature-y sweet" is along the lines of what I end up rambling.  I probably just like poking dead things with a stick, but I prefer to think I am benevolent. 

Escape

     Hello gentle readers, I made a safe return from my island paradise yesterday.  School settled down, thank the sweet babby jeebus.  I only got one out of four classes I originally intended to take, and no legit art courses are in the future for me, so we get to go on enjoying my archaic techniques and doodles for another semester. 
     It was really nice to get away for a few days.  The weather did not cooperate as much as I had hoped but I still managed to put on a decent tan.  It was a pretty uneventful trip, just the usual fun stuff and traditions; I love how old friends and routines never really change there.  One significant change was that only my mum and I went for this round of cabin times.  We even managed to take so few items, we were able to take our small car, not our huge shark of an SUV thing, pack to the gunnels. 
     The trip over was definitely the most rocky part of our journey.  I worked all day and was scrambling around at the last minute to get the rest of my crud together to go.  In my haste, I forgot all my eye-wear and accessories.  No sunglasses, not too bad; no glasses, very inconvenient; no contact lens solution, not too bad, I can get those anywhere, except for the fact that all stores would be closed by the time we got off the boat and I had no contact lens cases either.  After eight hours in a dusty, air conditioned craft store, my eyes were not behaving themselves.
     For my fellow visually inhibited friends, I'm sure you know the sensation of blinking and having your contacts make an appealing squishy squeak.

      Thankfully, our ferry docked at 8 minutes to 9PM.  We booked it like Thelma and Louise running from an angry mob of police and jilted lovers to the grocery store directly across from the ferry terminal.  By the time we arrived, the employees were shuffling the stragglers out.  Not me.  I ran in there like a mad woman, flailing my arms and shrieking. 

     After accosting a sales associate, I got my prize and spotted a sunglasses display.  Multiple birds killed with one stone?  I think so.
     After I could relax because my eyes were not shrivelling up, I cranked my favourite ocean and majestic nature adventure playlist.  Just as our ferry docked on our special little island, one of my all time favourite whimsical nature magic songs came on: Huge Tree in the Tsukamori Forest by Joe Hisaishi from one of my all time fave movies, My Neighbour Totoro.

      I love how quiet it is at night.  Just the sound of the osculating fan and the ocean is the stuff my dreams are made of. I always feel so much more calm and recharged after spending time near the ocean.  Call me crazy, but the magnetic pull between the moon, the earth, and the tides changes my soul for the better.  I would be the happiest girl in the world if my Barbie Dream House was on the beach, and also had a hot tub, but that is negotiable.

     The $14.99 purple grocery store sunglasses were such a good find.

Relaxtastic

     My location: a small island on the West Coast.  I have never done a post from anywhere but my room, I thought this was the appropriate place to formulate one while I kill time until my Fall course registration.  I waited for an hour in one of the few coffee shops on the island yesterday, one raunch look away from having an aneurysm, because my university's server was down. 
     When I am in panic mode, it is not a pretty sight.  And by not pretty, I mean a storm of deer-in-the-headlights-passive-aggressive-so-angry-I-could-vomit-with-rage-but-I-don't-know-what-to-do-I'm-so-flustered mess. 
     I don't think Universities realize how stressful picking courses can be.  For students, this is our lives.  We want our schooling to be as painless and compact as possible so we can get out into our desired careers.  Or at least figure out what we don't want to do quickly so we can get out of it.
     Sorry for the lack of pictures, I have my drawing pad chalk full of gems, but no scanner!  To lighten the mood, here is the birthday card my brother gave me for my birthday:

     I hope you all can have some fun in the sun this summer too

Nectarious

     This post is of no significant importance.  A new one, that is exciting and embarrassing but time consuming, is under construction though.  I leave for a few days of beachy relaxation and drinking with my mumsy, so I should have the post done upon my return.
     Anyway, I just realized I can wear lipstick now.  I've always wanted to.  Now it can become a reality because I won't be smearing my face on anyone else's for a good long while, so I don't have to worry about looking like a filthy whore.  I'm no Nicki Minaj, no one is going to see me with crazy bright pink lips at work or a family dinner, but I'm open to playful experimentation.
     For now, I have a nice coral to compliment my skin tone, that I can actually wear in daily life.

     It's funny what can give you a sneak attack confidence boost, things with the ability to produce that glint-in-your-eye-knock'em-dead half eyebrow raise,  mega bounce in your step combo. 

     Lipstick is fun.

     Fun Fact: Nectarious is a synonym of luscious, for any of those who didn't thesaurus that shiet right away.  Speaking of looking up strange things, I was changing up my chalkboard doors to my closet.  Instead of searching for some classic poets' beautiful and inspiring musings, what did I search for?  "Kung Fu Panda 2 Inspirational Quotes".   So wise.    

Hell Yeah

     This morning I woke up and went back to sleep for 2 hours.  Not because I was too distraught to face the world, but because my bed was so dang comfy.

    
   I'M BACK BAYBEHHHHH!!!!!

Inner Peace

     We all have our demons, this much is true.  As of late, I realized I have terrible coping skills.  Be it celebration or mourning, I'm probably dranked and shakin' that.  Never underestimate the therapeutic qualities of dancing badly. 
     I recently entered the club scene, even a greasy dungeon can become a Shangri la of inner peace with the right crowd of dancing freaks.  I especially liked meeting Club Ke$ha last night, she was crrraaaaazzzayyyy!  As much as I am sure I would regret seeing myself cut loose on the dance floor with a giant-backcombed-haired, leather vest wearing party girl, it was nice to see someone who was far less of a crazy mess than me.

     There is something to be said for the powers of distraction.

     That's me after very begrudgingly being taken to a club to help out some of my girlies with a fundraiser, also about 6 hours after a painful breakup and a lot of alcohol.  At first the club was one of the last places on earth I wanted to be, but after meeting Club Ke$ha and losing my shit in a good way, for the first time in a long time, on the dance floor to Get Out Of Your Mind and Party Rock Anthem, everything seemed a lot less bleak.
     It was a pleasant contrast to the catatonic gaze that's been plastered on my face for the last few weeks in anticipation of impending doom.

     For once, I took some time and instead of over analyzing my problems and such, I rationalized with myself and let go.  Too bad I couldn't have figured that one out sooner, but the majority of important lessons are not easy or painless to learn.  I was literally floored for about 2 hours, overcome by emotions.

     Sometimes you just can't mull through it all alone.  My dear pal, shifu Reilly, shot air soft pistols with me by a mighty and roaring river while we smoked a cigar.  He was kind enough to listen and offer solace without slapping in some backhanded compliments ("you're only young and beautiful for a very short amount of time and you deserve to be wooed and made to feel like the most special and important person in the world while you are" thanks a bunch for those uplifting words mum).  Releasing the nasty realities that bore away at my soul decluttered my mind enough for me to feel somewhat refreshed.  I can honestly say I have not been that calm as long as I can remember.  As I walked down my driveway, it was apparent that I have my zen back, who knows if I had it before, or when it went away, but I have it now.

     Sniping inanimate objects does feel so damn good.