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Hayden |
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Last night was bizarre. Bren, Rob and I went to the Hayden concert (woooooo-hoo!) and that was cool, but the events before and after were a little crazy. First of all, it POURED on us as we tried to find U of T Convocation Hall...and it was chilly and I was completely SOAKING and not the happiest puppy dog in the world. Then we got inside and we were damp for the whole show (lol, and yes, I realize that sounds bad, but you know what I mean). The concert was amazing...the opening act was THE most shy person I've ever seen set foot on a stage, and she was also pregnant which I think ROCKS (and that has nothing to do with my obsession to have a baby lately...god, but that's a whole other story...) Anyways, her music was super pretty...and then Hayden came out and he was just awesome, and really funny and humble and sweet. Half way through the concert, however, I began to feel REALLY ill and I was cranky and disoriented and wanting to go home. I felt soooo yucky, the kind of yucky where you just want to be at home in your bed, holding your tummy in agony (well, you don't WANT to be holding your tummy in agony, but you are...:o) Anyways, after the concert we went outside and it was suddenly SO cold, and our still-wet-clothes were like freezing to our skin. We looked for somewhere to eat, and I was being a grumpy little two-year old...but finally we settled on Pita Pit and I ate something to fill up my upset tummy. Then we TTCed it home...and ran into some real interesting people...including a drunk old British guy with no teeth who was singing in a drunken stupor, AND yodelled for the whole car after stating that he was the world's best yodeller (to a rousing round of applause I might add). Then there was this other crazy guy who started combatting the singing with his political agenda, and the old man was like "Did you say SAUSAGES?? I LOVE sausages!!" and I thought I was gonna die from laughing so hard. Good times.
THEN when we got to Finch station it was a BLIZZARD out...even though it had been 11 degrees during the day. The bus trip home was crazy, and when we got off the bus I almost blew away in the flurry of snow. We ran home and I was all red-cheeked and out of breath, but surprisingly, it was kind of fun.
The night got worse after that though. Rob left and afterwards I was bummed because the weather was bad and I didn't want anyone driving in it, no matter how cautious they were...especially since they could GET hit by a drunk driver or something...poor visibility and slick roads is not cool...especially since I know someone who was killed when hit by a drunk driver not too long ago...
And then yet another "discussion" occured between Bren, Dan and me...did not enjoy myself one bit...was being inarticulate in the worst way...got frustrated with myself...and the "tag team" they seemed to form against me...was feeling so sick I wanted to die...was tired and grumpy and resorting to my two-year old state...and admist flashbacks to my entire teenage years, stormed out of the room and into the bathroom. Locked myself in the bathroom for a good half hour...sat in the ice cold bathtub (with no water in it) and hugged my knees to my chest. Waited for Brennan. He didn't come. Heard him come in to the bedroom and go to bed. Sat there longer. Didn't cry. Just sat and stared at the ugly brown tiles.
Then I curled up in bed. Bren and I finally talked and it sucked. We sort of made up (at 3:30 in the morning) and went to bed. Didn't have the best night sleep. My mom called and woke me up this morning, talked to her for a good long time, then crawled back into bed. It took awhile to fall back to sleep, but when I did, it was warm and mushy and wonderlovely. The next time I woke up I felt good. We made a yummy breakfast of chocolate pancakes, hash browns and scrambled eggs. Sat around and watched bad tv.
I don't want to go into what we talked about last night, but I will say this:
I am an emotional person, and I want people to realize that I actually LIKE being this way. Not everyone wants to be like you. I like acting on what my body/emotions/mind/whatever tells me. Yes, sometimes I feel in hindsight that I may have acted childish and there may have been better ways to handle the experience. But I like fucking up sometimes. I need to. I'm overall an extremely happy person- but I am fully entitled to be mad or sad or think I'm ugly or get jealous or frustrated at the state of humanity. I'm allowed to be dumb.
And you know what? I like myself. A lot. I like how I stick up for what I believe in, even when I cannot find the words to articulate what I feel. I like how sometimes I need to slam doors or cry or sit in the bathtub. It enables me to also feel love and be the happiest person in the world and be open and full and see the amazing beauty in life.
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sleepy
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accomplished