play with it

4.08.2004

The Doors every time

Lately I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be self-destructive and why I seem to go through these stages of extreme behavior. When I was in highschool, I thought it would stop after school, and then after university I thought that maybe I was finally settling down. Now I find I am going through the same thing. I want to go crazy everyday and live life like Jim Morrison.
There is something so romantic about being self-destructive. Choosing it rather than succumbing to it. I guess that's what Leaving Las Vegas is about... I watched that movie once and even though I own it, I still haven't been in the proper mood to watch that movie a second time.
My absolute favorite movie is The Doors. I have seen that movie more times than I could count. I read every book I could find on Jim or by him. I've also watched almost all their real concert footage and documentaries. For a period of about three years, I couldn't get enough.
Then I let it all go.
It's been a while since I've seen the movie now, and all this talking about it is making me get a craving for it. Almost like having a sweet tooth, I need my fix of psychedelic rock jocks...

But, there really is noone out there living it up like past rock idols used to do it. There is too much clean living going on. Charlie Sheen going straight, Aston Kutcher dating an older woman and making it seem boring, and Beyonce saying her values wouldn't allow her to kiss a woman.
Give me a break. I thought celebrities were getting paid so much because of the risk factor involved in being a boozy, drugged and sexed up star.
I didn't think that they're supposed to be living quietly and squirreling away the money. That's their entertainment fund, to be used on having an extreme amount of fun... to entertain us.
Needs to be more arrest photos and videos of drunken stars lashing out at us general folk.
After all, who will the young people look up to? Who will be their Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin or Jimi Hendrix?
Who I ask?
All the kids have these days is Bobby Brown, Jacko and Martha Stewart.
Not cool.

"I pity the fool..."

My gal Thursday was kissing his gal Friday

It has been a craphole of a week and I can't wait for it to be over. I just want to hide under a rock or sleep for the next 3 days.
I still haven't had my morning cup of coffee and I don't feel properly jolted yet. My typing is very slow..... it is forcing me to use short sentences.
Dogs are nice.
Offices suck.
Trees are great.
Bushes suck (ha,ha)
I hungry.

I feel like I am supposed to be doing more with this sunny, hopeful morning. But then again, it's probably just as good to have a beer, smoke a joint and sit on the balcony. It's better to start early on the sunny days because then you can drink outside and get the proper amount of Vitamin D.
See, then it's healthy.
I have the remedy!
That's my angle baby, I am the remedy doctor. You just tell me what sort of naughty behavior you've been getting into and I tell you how to get some kind of remedy out of it too.

Having no coffee yet has made me delerious.
Me get coffee.

4.05.2004

Way back...

When I was in grade two, I was sent home from school for swearing.
My teacher called my mom and told her that she was really worried "because at recess that day, Amanda had called another student a swear word" (it was actually two). My mom asked what I had said and the teacher told her.
I guess the reason it was such a big deal was that young kids didn't used to swear that much or something. Now, I am guessing it's a different story but back then (around '83) kids didn't swear like truckers.
My mom was actually more amused about my teachers' reaction than my actual swearing. She thought it was really funny that this was something people worried about.
But, when I came home from school I knew that I was probably going to be in trouble. I had already been punished at school - I had to write lines for homework saying that swearing is wrong.
My mom was waiting for me of course, but instead of being angry she was very understanding. She asked me what had happened and why I had called another student a name. I told her that this girl at school was always annoying me - and sometimes on purpose.
I told my mom how that day, the girl had been teasing me and trying to get me angry, so while I was chasing her around the schoolyard trying to get her to shut up, I yelled out "you're a fuckin bitch!"

I remember how good it had felt to let all that frustration out. I had disliked this girl for a long time, but had been keeping it to myself. It felt so good to let everyone know how I really felt about her. I think I probably looked proud as the teacher dragged me into the classroom.

My mom seemed to understand because she just hugged me and told me that next time I should try to hold back and if I have to say something, it shouldn't be a swear word.
But I knew that she didn't really care about swear words. They were just words and she was more concerned about my frustrations with this girl.
She told me not to take to heart what everyone says. She told me I should let this girl be silly and it didn't have to affect me.
I think was one of the first times I knew my parents were different than everyone else's.

I guess their record collection could have tipped me off too - The Go-Go's, Rolling Stones, Stevie Wonder, Adam Ant...

My parents were a LOT younger than my friend's parents.
I am so grateful for that, otherwise I would probably have shitty taste in music and no capacity for swearing like a drunken sailor.
Two of my very best qualities I think.

4.04.2004

The summer of '89

The summer that I was twelve going on thirteen was one of the first wild summers of my life. That was the summer I started smoking (quit when I was 21), it was the summer I first became introduced to binge drinking, and it was the summer that I had my first boyfriend and went past first base (with more than one boy by the time summer was over. That was also the summer I started dying my hair and the first colour I chose was a shocking blue-black. Two months later, I went to a bright red/orange colour.
I haven't had my own colour since that summer. I also shaved off part of my hair that year.

My best friend's dad threw our grade eight class a party in his backyard. I guess he figured it would be safe to let us drink, so he bought us a couple of 26's of various kinds of alcohol. We invited the whole class, plus some of the kids from the grade nine class. The older boys decided they should bartend and for some reason we all agreed. To this day, I am still remembering things about that day/night/morning. I know I had at least three or four drinks within the space of an hour and then the rest is a strange series of events that slowly replays over and over in my mind. I know that at one point we all scattered around the neighborhood and it must have been surreal for all the people who saw all the teenagers drunk and wandering around the streets.
I ran through someone's sprinkler, told an older tough girl she had a weird name (it was Honey) but she didn't beat me up... instead she laughed and said she liked me.

The next weekend me and my friend filled up a plastic 600 ml coke bottle with every kind of alcohol we could find at her house. The drink was a strange brown colour and it tasted like shit, but we drank it and got wasted.
That was the beginning of a career in binge drinking for me and my friends, and by the the time we were in grade twelve, we were pretty much burned out for a while.

Later in that same summer, I had to call my mom to come and get me and a friend after we drank a couple of mickey's with some guys in our class. I threw up in the one guys sink while he and my friend had sex in his parents room. It was her first time and she bled all over the place. She told my mom all about it while my mom carried her home, through the park. Meanwhile, my dad was at home passed out himself and the next day he was none the wiser. Not like it would have mattered.

I called my mom a few times that summer and throughout grade nine. One time I was at one friend's house hanging out, then I went next door to another friend's place who was having a party. I drank about six beer in an hour, went back to my other friend's and puked on his doorstep. My mom had to drag me home that night.

Then when I was 14 turning 15 and in grade ten, I started hanging out with a tougher group of people and we loved getting into trouble. Fights, drinking, sex, skipping school and just about anything else we could think of.
That was the year I first was suspended from school for missing too many classes. I had received many warnings and had even been on a contract deal where I had to get each of my teachers to sign a paper everyday saying I had been in class. That just made school all the more unbearable, so I stopped going and became very good at pinball.
Also that year, my mom got a call from one of my friend's parents saying that we had stolen her van and hadn't been home all night. My mom freaked and my friend yelled at her mom for calling my mom.
We had spent the whole night rallying forces to come and help us beat up these guys we had been chasing in the van all night. They had thrown a slurpee and a cigarette in the van and the upholstery was wrecked, so we had to get them back.
That was a great night. There is nothing like a car chase to spice things up, especially with about five or six big teenage guys ready to fight the people in the car in front of us.
My 15th birthday, my dad gave me a cigarette making machine. I was the envy of all my friends.
Also when we were 15, we started going drinking at golf courses on the outskirts of the city. Lots of beer, lots of drugs, sort of like the party at the end of Dazed and Confused.

All I really remember about the summer I was 15 turning 16 is all the different kinds of alcohol we tried. Huge tumblers filled with butter brickle liquer, lemon gin and rum and coke by the gallons. I remember playing strip poker while drinking huge amounts of vodka, and at one party when I was 16, three of us girls drank a mickey of Polar Ice in 15 minutes and then proceeded to throw up and pass out within an hour.
That was one of many nights where I was lucky and I should have gone to the hospitable.

By the time I turned 17, I was pretty much puked out of every kind of hard alcohol there was. I couldn't smell a rum and coke without dry heaving and there was NO WAY in hell I was ever going to drink any kind of alcoholic butterscotch drink again.

So, on my 18th birthday I had a party in the backyard and we drank beer instead of hard stuff. That was a night where I could have ruined beer for myself, but thankfully I didn't.
I don't remember much except the drinking and then I peed in the backyard because I didn't want to go in the house where my mom would see me.

If I actually had to name everytime I went too far with alcohol this list would be endless. Just getting the highlights is proving to be a nightmare.

In grade twelve when I was 17 turning 18, I almost got kicked out of school for smoking on school property. The principal threatened to call my parents and I asked her who she thought bought my cigarettes. This blew her mind, she backed off and I graduated.

Needless to say, I have never learnt my lesson and there were even more drunken binges later on as well as raves and parties and making out with guys while their wives watched and making out with a girl while our friends watched...
I thought that maybe I had settled down now because there have been a few quieter years, but I can feel the old things starting up again.... I am not the leopard that can change its spots, or drinking habits.