a little morning poe for miss odd

Hear the sledges with the bells-Silver bells!

What a world of merriment their melody foretells!

How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,

In the icy air of night!

While the stars that oversprinkle

All the heavens, seem to twinkle

With a crystalline delight;

Keeping time, time, time,

In a sort of Runic rhyme,

To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells

From the bells, bells, bells, bells,

Bells, bells, bells-

From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

Hear the tolling of the bells-Iron Bells!

What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!

In the silence of the night,

How we shiver with affright

At the melancholy menace of their tone!

For every sound that floats

From the rust within their throats

Is a groan.

And the people–ah, the people-

They that dwell up in the steeple,

All Alone

And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,

In that muffled monotone,

Feel a glory in so rolling

On the human heart a stone-

They are neither man nor woman-

They are neither brute nor human-

They are Ghouls:

And their king it is who tolls;

And he rolls, rolls, rolls,

Rolls a paean from the bells!

And his merry bosom swells

With the paean of the bells!

And he dances, and he yells;

Keeping time, time, time,

In a sort of Runic rhyme,

To the paean of the bells-

Of the bells:

Keeping time, time, time,

In a sort of Runic rhyme,

To the throbbing of the bells-

Of the bells, bells, bells-

To the sobbing of the bells;

Keeping time, time, time,

As he knells, knells, knells,

In a happy Runic rhyme,

To the rolling of the bells-

Of the bells, bells, bells:

To the tolling of the bells,

Of the bells, bells, bells, bells-

Bells, bells, bells-

To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

-edgar allan poe

i close my eyes,and this image floats beside me:

a sweaty-toothed madman

with a stare that pounds my brain.

his hands reach out and choke me

and all the time he's mumbling,

mumbling:

'truth.

like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold.

you push it, stretch it,but it'll never be enough.

you kick at it, beat it,it'll never cover any of us

from the moment we enter crying

to the moment we leave dying

it'll only cover your face

as you wail and cry and scream.'

five sunday night thoughts

-i went bowling last monday (see photos below). i haven't done that in years. in fact, i would dare to say i haven't been bowling since i was a kid and the lanes had those rubbery blow up things in the gutters. no matter how bad a bowler i was, i always managed to bowl a wicked game. this place, however, did not have those rubbery things. next time i plan on breaking 80.

-smiles is getting a dog on tuesday. i am so excited. it is secretly going to be my dog and it will speak french and will have a second english name no one but the dog and i know about. it is white and can fit in the palm of your hand.

-last tuesday night around three in the morning i got home and went out onto my balcony basking in the full moonlight. as i sat in silence, feet propped up against the edge of my balcony something caught my eye from above. i live on the top floor of my building and not even three feet from me a big electric white bird with a wingspan of at least six feet went woosh woosh wooshing into the moonlight. i closed my eyes and was about to call smiles out to see, but as soon as i blinked it disappeared. i could spend the rest of my life searching for that bird...(which is quite possibly the dragon from the never ending story...)

-every friday i go out to r's house and drink whisky and coke while we chat / ponder / think / burn shit / cry. every week i am amazed at my ability to catch bugs in my lipgloss and remove them without my hands, usually sparing their lives.

-today while enjoying a bagel i saw santa clause drive by in a tuk tuk. not a word of a lie. (and he was with a thai woman.)

a private poi show of brilliant proportions

up in flames we go 

loi kratong...letting go of it all 

"con falang...ting tong mak." 

"welcome to thailand. please set your watch ahead 12 hours and turn your music calendar back 13 years. enjoy your stay, try the locals..." 

disco bowling. not to be confused with disco blowing. 

"i'm waiting for you to crack..."

weren't we all.

something hasn't been quite right for the past week. i am not sure entirely what it is, but i know a large part had to do with the fact that oliver had decided to completely ignore the fact that i sent him my heart, open and warm.

that is, until today.

i knew today was going to be the day, i could feel it. and crack? well crack i did. today is the day i am able to come in late to work, 8:30 instead of 7:30. i woke up around 7:00, had coffee on my balcony, listened to the rooster below who had been keeping me up most of the night. (if i had a hammer!) after watching a bit of oprah, who makes me feel like no matter how bad i have it, someone always has it worse. i took a leisurely shower and made my way to work with issues of the day facing me. feeling tired of working with the same people...hoping i can make my lessons for the day as awesome as they seemed on paper (fridays are special for my kids) and trying to sort out responsibilities, like schedules, and above all, financial troubles.

i got in to work, put my bag down, tossed my sunglasses on a pile of papers i need to file so they wouldn't blow away and went to load up the computer. the other teachers were in but doing their own thing. 'hello's' have become a thing of the past.

as i waited for the computer to load i crossed my legs and stared out into the courtyard through the window behind the screen. i glanced over at the computer's thermometer. thirty-six degrees already. fuck me.

after waiting for a while i logged into my email. one message. from oliver. i knew it was going to be here today. i knew it for certain. tears welled in my eyes as i waited for his words to load. i knew i wasn't going to like what i was about to read. my intuitions have been correct most of my life.

Dear Heather,

I really want to avoid hurting you in any way, but I must try to be direct.

(blah blah blah...)*

We had, for a time, a beautiful relationship together. But that relationship is now finished. I don't want to try again to be lovers.

(blah blah blah...) *

It was a very important relationship. I will never forget it and I will never forget you.


I will never forget what we had. I wish you health and happiness.

oliver.

*(blah blah blah...) does not mean "useless words i don't care about." it rather means "hurtful words i don't want to read again."

well. crack i most certainly did. looking out into the courtyard, tears streamed down my face, quickly being dried by the fan. my hair was tickling the inside of my ear. i would push it away but it would tickle again. it wouldn't stop. and his words were still there.

oliver

i can't say it doesn't hurt. normally i would wait and think about this and then write to you, but i feel like writing you a knee-jerk reaction
.
all i can say, in the nicest sweetest way possible, with all of my heart and all of my love, is fuck you.

you are too damn rational peter, and love is irrational. i think in your head you have this ideal of how you and i are supposed to interact, and if i move beyond that, then you push me away.

of course you are going through some shit right now. one thing i have learned is that there is never a time when people aren't "going through some shit." everyone has shit, and that is why they have friends and lovers to take away the pain of everyday life.

perhaps fuck you is too strong. maybe not.

i respect what you say. but i dont understand it.

today is loi kratong in thailand. people make a small raft out of banana leaves and put candles and incense in it and sent it into the ocean with things they need to let go of. i will be going to my friend's house on the beach tonight where i was when i first decided to write you this email. and you, oliver, will be on my kratong. i wish you didn't have to be. i wish i could build a kratong and sail it to you. but that isn't in the stars for us. so we step back, take a deep breath, shake hands, and walk away.

cracked. cracked right down the middle.

i feel better now. hours have passed and i am sitting in the same chair with even more hair tickling my ear and the back of my neck. the children are outside playing, getting ready to go home. in the background there is a boy playing the drums. "doom doom doom dooooom. doom doom doom doooooom." over and over. an irregular heartbeat, for irregular hearts.

it's just too swirley!!!!!!!!!

i would really really love to be able to read thai. i think that if i was able to read it, then perhaps i could speak a little better. i have always been a very visual person.

the thing is. the fucking language has so many damn swirls. circle this way, circle that way, little rat thing above the thing that looks like an "A" and some lines when you feel like it. and that one letter...the one that looks like an equals sign, but yes...WITH SWIRLS. i don't understand.

ฟะพาสวฟวฟวแรนไนไนพีพีฆฺฏฉ์ฆ็ศษษ์ฉฺฆฌฎฑํณฯรนยบ

that's all i have to say about that.

(i am now going home to sleep. blogger has now annoyed me to no end. thanks for the place to write, but today, nothing is working. bah. สาวก่ฟหาสด่วฟหสด่วสฟหก่าดวาสฟหก่ดวาสฟหก่ดรนียพรนีไรนพี่วรนไพสวาไมใพทไพทิมไปแวส่อนแร่)

cet a été sept jours

aujourd'hui est un jour triste. maintenant je comprends que n'importe combien on veut l'aimer, et avoir le sait qu'on l'aime, on ne peut pas changer ce qu'est arrivé dans le passé.

cet a été sept jours lorsque j'ai envoyé ce message à oliver.

et maintenant je sais qu'il ne peut pas accepter mes mots.

et je comprends.

mais cela ne signifie pas qu'il ne blesse pas.

si vous lisez ceci sait s'il vous plaît que je vous aime. vous êtes stupéfiant. vous êtes tout que je jamais pourrais vouloir. vous êtes plus que je mérite. je suis désolé, mais je comprends.

my happy place 

how old are you now?

november 19th, 1947. a beautiful amazing man was born.

today he will be spending the day in the mountains in vermont with his family (minus two), drinking wine, eating good yummy food and blowing out 57 candles on his birthday cake. well actually i hope not, that is a fucking lot of candles.

i remember when my dad turned forty. i made a "4" and a "0" out of play-dough on our dining room table when we were still living in canada. they were green and the smell of the clay and the feeling between my fingers made me warm. i worked all afternoon (me being five years old and all...) and i was so proud. they were beautiful. when he came home from work i told him to close his eyes and i brought him by the hand to the table and unveiled my masterpiece. i still remember the look on his face. he gave me a hug, but i knew something wasn't appropriate. that was the day i learned that with my father, we don't talk about age. age and money, completely taboo.

every year since then i have tried to forget how old my father is. he is almost sixty! i can remember when twenty-two was super old. i wish i could freeze him in this age, with grey hairs wisping around his face and soft wrinkles around his eyes.

to the most amazing father and best of friends a girl could ask for, happy birthday, however old you may be...

an explanation of my general comprehension of the evening 

pre-performance 

a vision in pink 

fer fooks saik

about once every three months since i have been here i have had a day that makes me want to pack it all in and say "fook it." a day when there are so many obstacles and everything seems to be a battle. (please note that i do blame thailand in an unfair way. i am aware of this.)

for example:

-teachers need to do photocopying. i go to the same place every freaking week. the boys in there always help me, and they know me by name. yesterday i walked in, to a STRICTLY photocopy shop, what do they say? "what do you want?" all sitting down, grins on their faces, stupidity in their eyes. fer fooks saik, i want some copies!!!!

-7-11 has a big big market here. they have many products you can get in the west, this seems to be their basis. making the whole 'kwik-e mart' become a reality. but for some damn reason, the newest and nicest 7-11 has products that only have thai script. jesus. every other little mom and pop store has things written in english, but 7-11 can't manage to sell some conditioner with a little something written in english (note, this is probably the most ignorant comment i will ever make. or not. but this was after i spent half an hour in there, opening every freaking container to see if i could tell if it was conditioner or not.)

-tampons. fer fooks saik. i am not sure how a society can survive without tampons. same 7-11. i know they are not as common here, and many places don't have them. i didn't even expect to find them there. however, when i simply asked a woman working there, in thai, i said i didn't know what they were called in thai, and so she proceeds hunch her back and show me where it would do, using thrusting motions...infront of a line of people. then shouting "mai mii!" (don't have.) almost tops my condom story from montreal

-motorbikes. i drove to samkong last night, usually about a 10 minute ride from my place. i was supposed to meet a friend, and i was already 30 minutes late. because i was late he thought it would really help if he called me every three minutes to see where i was. and then proceed to tell me that is it very busy on the road and to be careful. of course. people weaving in and out of traffic, going from 0-60-0 in three seconds. five kids on a motorbike fooking eerooound........fer fooks saik. motorbikes on sidewalks, motorbikes stopping to take phone calls. motorbikes going 60 the wrong way down the street in oncoming traffic. motorbikes driven by people who shouldn't have motorbikes, and cards driven by people who should.

-hsbc. to make a long and fooking painful story short, i had money in my american account i was counting on using, yesterday. i went to use my card, because my thai account doesn't work between the hours of 12am and 2am, hoo the fook knows why...and when i went there in a hurry? oh look, my card expired 10/04. sweet. no money, no card...a nearly empty thai account. my bank knows i am living here, the manager is a good friend of my parents. so...wouldn't i receive a replacement card, or hear something about it? fer fooks saik.

-lastly, who the fook thinks it is okay to start work at 730 am? every day? i dont start teaching until 920, but every day my alarm goes off at 6am, then again at 6:30, and then again at 6:45, 6:50, 6:55, 7:00, and sometime around 7:05 i let out a bloodcurdling scream and slither into the shower. 7:30 is not a welcome hour. there are so many other hours in the day...why start at this one? i would happily finish at 5:00 if it meant i didn't have to start until 8:30.

oye vey.

silver lining: i went to a traditional thai dance performance last night on an island right next to phuket, i was backstage as smiles was performing. it was so damn beautiful. things like this can make you change your view on all the "blah" shit. it was amazing. completely amazing.

(from the exorcist) 

in dire need of an exorcism

i took the day off work yesterday as i woke up feeling like i had swallowed a small child. as it turns out, perhaps i could have done.

and perhaps i should still be in bed.

i pride myself on the fact that i am always in control of my temper...and i feel that i am more than capable of managing a classroom without physical discipline.

however, about ten minutes ago i was in my second class of the day and after taking various bits of string, toothpicks, hair elastics, socks, small bugs and pieces the floor out of the hands of keakouey...a square-headed little boy with beautiful mocha skin...in a temporary moment of posession by evil, i took a box about the size of a deck of cards, empty, and threw it at (what i thought) was his shoulder, adding a little flick of a spin my father taught me when learning how to throw a frisbee. (very long sentence. who cares?) as it spun through the air the seconds slowed down and i could see him look up as the other students were shocked in amazement that i lost my cool...and he looked at me, and then *WONK* right smack in the middle of his forehead. now, if this wasn't bad enough, in thai culture to touch someone in the head is disrespectful. but to hit them with a flying object...well. not good, it all i can say. for the first time i waied my student without being waied first, and told him i was sorry.

what the hell is wrong with me?

jesus howard christ. sometimes i wonder if i am slowly losing hold of all of my morals and trading them in for the ones they accept here.

fuck me.

seafood on the beach at sunset 

*breathe out*

"(...)i dont know what else to say. my heart is open, and my eyes are wet. my throat is closing in and my chin is twitching. my past is waving, and my now is all wobbly.

i love you."

mission accomplished.

carpe diem. sieze the day. gather ye rosebuds while ye may...

a couple of nights ago i went out to a friend's house on the water and listened to the waves crash into the shore. as we sat and stared at the passing neighbors, geckos giggling and dancing in the light, my thoughts drifted to something that finally needs to be addressed.

after posting my letter from oliver last week it occured to me how little i have spoken of him to my friends. he was such a huge part of my life when i first arived in thailand. i remember being at the airport in bangkok upon my arrival and having little time to use the internet, and managing to send my parents a "hello, i am alive..." email, and making time to write him a flowery "you are so beautiful, i want to share everything i see with you..." email.

he helped me through the first transition. he showed me what it was like to have someone fall in love with you. he showed me what it was like to fall in love with someone so much that it makes you twist in your sheets at night and hear his voice in everyone you see. he woke me up from some kind of sensual dormancy i had been missing. he spoke to me in words i yearned for. i ached for him.

the thing is, when asked by my friend 'how can you let it go so easily?' i didn't know how to answer. i don't know how i let it go. i simply walked away, knowing i was hurting him. at a time when he was mot vulnerable, i somehoe found the space in the realm of all things "acceptable" to leave him alone. seaching at cafes for me, leaving me messages telling me i could 'at least fucking tell him,' that i was going to leave.

i am ashamed. i am sorry. i dont think i even have an idea of how sorry i am. i wish he could understand how sorry i am.

and so, here i sit, itchy fingertips, sweaty knees, a slightly sunburned scalp, and dry mouth about to log into my email to write to him.

"just do it." she said to me. just go. just go find him. and believe me, i wish i could. if i was financially able to leave right now, no luggage, pasport and a beathmint, i would go. i would find him. i would walk beside him and grab his hand from behind. i would cover his eyes and whisper in his ears. i would kneel on the ground and tell him how sorry i am.

how can i let it go that easily? how can i? well, i can't. and today is the day i do something about it. who knows what will happen.

the only thing i know for certain, is that i love him. and he is quite possibly the only person i have really truly loved in this most bizarre of ways. and so i can't walk away, and i am not going to.

"breathe in, breathe out. breathe in, breathe out.

tied to a wheel, our fingers got to feel

bleeding through a tourniquet smile

i spin on a whim, aslide to the right

i felt you like electric light

for our love

for our fear

for our rise against the years and years and years"

-bush (machinehead)

so here goes. it is time to write. it is time to open up. it is time to tell him. it is time to tell him everything. i never knew my toes twitched when i am nervous. perhaps i have never been this nervous before.

to sir, with love.

will power = 0

day one:
"can i come over?"
"no." *grin*

day two:
"can i come over?"
"no." *bigger grin."

day three:
"can i come over?"
"no."
"well, yah."

-------

day seventeen:

"are you busy? can i come see you?"
"i was sleeping. no. well, alright. see you soon."

sensory overload

a 30 second spanish guitar track has been playing over and over and over and over and over for at least 106 minutes.

"glug glug glug" goes the blood-bath computer game.

can you turn it up some more? i can still hear the voices in my head.

am i the only one here with ears?

computer towers should never have flashing lights. i am distracted. DISTRACTED I SAY!
please stop reading what i am writing. or try to be candid. yes, you. get back to the porn you were so obsessed with before you looked my way. wait...porn. you could be on to something.

did a rat die in here?

"click click click"

zoom zoom zoom....our ideas all fly into space.

"there she goes just a walking down the street singing 'doo a ditty ditty..." i have found my happy place.

i am hungry.

my eyes are burning.

i am losing my mind.

i am going home.

you dont want to be in open water with this looming overhead 

phuket by night 

working. 

my boss, "working." (you see how we do things.) our training session took place about three feet behind me. 

getaway to coal island. teacher training the way it should be. 

ice cream time at summer camp. welcome back to thailand! 

old friends 

je me souviens 

home 

though now a little dated, a sexy photo of a beautiful friend i saw while in vermont, on our little voyage to montreal 

ten lessons of the week

the following is a list of things that i have learned this week:

1. lesson learned: any restaurant that makes you pay for a glass you break (and apologize for) is not worth frequenting. no matter how shitty and overpriced the coffee.

2. lesson learned: hickeys over the age of 13 make you look like a cheap cheap whore.

3. lesson learned: if a skirt is to be worn on a motorbike it must have some stretch to it. if not, when filled with haste, it is bound to rip.

4. lesson learned: if you are tired, even if you set three alarms, you are going to be at least 42 minutes late for work. twice.

5. lesson learned: your friends can be the most inspiring people you will ever meet.

6. lesson learned: when you are stretching your body and soul it is okay to cry.

7. lesson learned: my mother will always be my hero. a short letter from her makes my heart swell. the knowledge that she admires me is my blanket.

8. lesson learned: your siblings do not have to be your best friends. blood brings you together...but friendship can take a lifetime.

9. lesson learned: children are so intuitive. they can sense when you need a hug, tell you that you are beautiful, and search for the words to make you feel special.

10. lesson learned: wearing fantastic underwear can change your whole outlook.

beautiful people.

i have just had word that there were some 'not so nice' comments on my blog, re my letter home. a little shocked, but perhaps with a slight idea who might have written it.

of course my blog is not only there to have happy 'i love you' comments. but there is no point in what she said.

why is it that people feel the need to cut others down to make themselves feel better? we are all human. we all have hearts in our chest. we all have some sort of inner depth. but there seems to be an increasingly large number of people in my life who get off on making others feel shitty about themselves.

i know i should feel mad. i am just sad. there are people like that i wish i could talk to and ask them what makes them think the world is against them.

but this person's only defense is defense itself.

i am sorry for you that you think people are so ugly. people can be so beautiful if you would just open your damn eyes.


"Come and hear the funeral marchin'
Maybe this is your suicide
Maybe this is more pure
Pure and simple
Maybe this is all I have for
Home, home, home

Why have all your beautiful people,
Brushed you on down, down
Brushed you on down

I saw the shame inside your addiction.
Hatin' to see what was passed on by
I saw the shame and wondered why
I should live and die.

Why have all your beautiful people,
Brushed you on down, down
Brushed you on down"

-Rusted Root (Beautiful People)

all my troubles seemed so far away...

the following is an email i received today from a past lover...whom i have not talked to in a long time. i am so sorry to have hurt him. so sorry to be without him. so happy to read his words.

he is perhaps one of the mose beautiful people i have come in contact with in my 22 years.



Dear Heather,

Thank you for your email. I see that you're now back in Thailand. It must have seemed like a "flying visit" to America! And it must have been strange to get on and off a plane and experience such a difference in temperature. I even noticed quite a difference between Spain and Scotland!

I feel physically pretty much ok when I'm not actually doing anything, just lounging around, reading and "taking it easy". So it's nice to have a rest. The problem is that I was only working for two months, and I'd already had a rest for twelve months before that!

I recently re-read all of our correspondance - I hope you don't mind that I've kept all of your emails. There was a lot of good stuff there. I also hope you don't mind that I think to myself of you having been, in a way, my "girlfriend", and of me having been your "boyfriend". 2004 will always be for me "Heather's year".

I would like to be able to write to you more regularly, if only I could find the right "tone". I do miss writing to you and hearing from you. But it is kind of difficult to know what to write about. Even in this email I have excised a large part of what I had written at first, because it seemed that I was either moaning and whingeing or that I was seeking to explain myself all over again!

I really have very little personal news. My father, although not in perfect health, is certainly better than he was this time last year. At one stage last year it seemed that he wasn't going to survive.... My mother is much the same as she always seems to be and will hopefully go on for years. I have been reading a lot as usual.

I hope you are doing ok, and being careful on your motorbike!

With love and best wishes,
Oliver

kerouac for the soul

"the only people for me are the mad ones. the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirious of everything at the same time. the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn,

burn,

burn,

like the fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight *pop* and everybody goes, "aww!"

(from on the road)

agressive thoughts about my computer at work (and other thoughts to occupy my time to avoid hurting others)

"come on baby, don't be like that..."

1 mississippi, 2 mississippi, 3 mississippi, 4 mississippi, 5 mississippi, 6 mississippi...OH LOOK! YOU FUCKING FROZE!

good thing i have nothing better to do...

*ages one year*

*paints nails to watch them dry*

how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? but really, what is stopping the poor fellow? anyone can chuck wood if they put their minds to it...

STAND
EYE = I UNDERSTAND

October 28th - 9 months = i was conceived at the end of january. hooray for cold canadian winters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the end.

l'armes

i am deeply sad for the current state of affairs in the united states of america. there is nothing i can do but think about the pending downfall of the people and their freedom.

how this happened is beyond any sort of comprehension i could even pretend to have.

america having been my home for the most crucial times of my life and the home of the people i love most, my family, i am sad. i am sad for america.

how could you do this to yourselves?

canada is accepting applications. i suggest looking into this possibility for the next four years.

if i prayed, i would pray for all of you

bisous
heather

isn't it ironic

dont you think? a little too ironic...yah, i really do think.

just as i had sworn off of them forever one comes and shows me that there is no need to lose faith, as there is the possibility for real love out there.

smiles.


oooooooooooooooooooh smiles.

smiles and i have had a playful relationship that consisted of me telling him how rotten thai men are, and him telling me that they are not all bad for about four months now. through intoxicated 3 in the morning conversations he has heard my story, beginning to end about both joe and tommy. he has seen me with both of them. hell, as i paraded them into ss, he held the door, making way for my maddness.

but somehow, this little crush has developed, and has been completely innocent. well, had been. who knows what will happen.

he is going to chumpon today, where his family is from for a longtail boat competition. he will come back tomorrow. he and i both are going on two and a half hours sleep.

everyone wants to say that 'this one is different. i, somehow, am different. and for fear of sounding redundant, i won't say this, not yet. but know i am thinking it every step of the way.

*hmmmm*