there are places I remember in my life...

Well, let the poets cry themselves to sleep.
And all their tearful words will turn back into steam.
But me I'm a single cell, on a serpent's tongue.
There's a muddy field where a garden was,
And I'm glad you got away 
But I'm still stuck out here
My clothes are soaking wet
From your brother's tears

if the world should fall apart, hold on to what you know...

All the stars are out tonight it feels as though I might
Make some sense out of this madness, will it turn out right?

I finished reading The Joy Luck Club, which I had to read for my Culture and Society English exam on Thursday. I didn't expect to like it - the reason I don't take more English classes is that I have a hard time enjoying books I have to read, especially when I usually tend to leave them to the last possible minute (I'd like to say due to the time demands of journalism during the year - but the truth is that I would probably procrastinate anyway).

But I did.

It made me think. About women and their mothers. It's hard for me to see my parents as people of their own right, with a past and a future and even a present that isn't all about me. This selfish idea, I have realized, is a priceless gift my parents gave me - to make me feel like I was their whole life.

Daughters and their mothers, particularly, are difficult. The book was about how we all go through life thinking our mothers are ruining our lives, or are the bane of our otherwise ordinary lives... but we don't realize how much we are a part of them, and they of us. That the things we see in them that we may not like are likely projections of what we see in ourselves that we don't like. And every mother tries to fix her own mistakes for her daughter. It was very interesting.

It made me think about my parents. Another question in the book, repeatedly, is "What's inside of me?" and one woman tells her daughter about what parts of each of her parents she has. And I was trying to think of what parts of me my parents have given me.

I am the daughter of a woman who was one of the first in her family to graduate from university. A woman who became a nurse because she wanted to care for people. A woman who cares far too much about everyone and everything - a gift and a curse which she passed on to me. But a blessing, in a mother, because I grew up always knowing that I was loved - that I mattered more than anything. I am so proud of my mother and her choices in life. She has worked hard her entire life. She has risen through the ranks of the hospital, and is now the nurse educator of medicine. She is the most honest person I have ever met. Given a food budget of $60 a day on her work trip last week, she told them she didn't need it. That she only used $40 a day. Because she felt like she'd be cheating them out of $100. My mother is someone who won't spend a cent on herself, but will turn around and give me $100 to buy new jeans, just because I want them. My mother gets excited over paying $1.25 for a giant bag of M&Ms.

I am also the daughter of a man who fought his whole life for every scrap of what he achieved. My sister and I jokingly call it the Montgomery Luck - almost nothing falls into our laps and we learn to fight hard for what we want. But I'd like to call it the Montgomery Perseverance. My father, who didn't even technically graduate from high school, remains one of the smartest people I have ever met. He is completely competant in everything he does. He has this hilarious blunt manner in which he can tell someone they're being an idiot and get away with it. My father has worked so hard his whole life. And never harder than this year, to keep himself and everything together when his life's work - his store - fell apart. I'm so proud of him for being strong and being determined. And for the success of 25 years. And not despite the failure at the end, but because of it. Because I know he's going to come out the other side.

Both of my parents had difficult pasts. Honestly, I don't even know half of it. But they managed to get through it all and raise my sister and I pretty descently, as far as I can tell.

From my parents I got my sense of pride and respect. They raised me to be myself - and to be firm in what I know, to acknowledge what I don't know. To never let anyone control my life but me. I got my ability to care with everything in me, even if sometimes it proves to be too much. I got my love of knowledge and learning. I got my stubborness. My "scrapiness", as my sister would say, and my perseverance. I got fire, the fight to protect everything I love like a tigress. I got my giggle and quick blush from my mother. I got my eyes and how they see the world from my father.

So I guess that's what's in me.

black bird fly into the light of the dark black night...

I just went for a run (I decided I'm not a morning person and just should stop trying to force myself to be).

It felt really good. I ran until my lungs hurt and my head pounded and my legs felt like jelly (which sadly is not very far.. haha). And it was so... good. To be free. To be fast. To be... alone in the night with just my music (and my cellphone.. even Barrhaven isn't completely safe late at night).

To feel alive.

you were only waiting for this moment to be free...

polygamy is entertaining

Apparently it's snowing in Alberta.

But it is so gorgeous out here that I just want to... fly.

How is anyone supposed to think about exams when they belong outdoors?

the difference...

The first quote on my iGoogle today is my favourite quote ever. I think that's a good sign.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Another favourite, while I'm at it:

Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take but by the moments that take your breath away.

For someone who considers herself fairly well read, possibly unique and definitely intelligent, I realize that they are fairly basic, widely known quotes. But they are just so good.

a text.

Me: "In the mirror sometimes I look beautiful, other times I look like me."
Fae: "When you see the beauty, that's when you see the truth. And when you can't, use my eyes instead."

<3

why can't I begin again?

One exam down, two to go. I think I kicked Greek and Roman Lit ass, personally. Hopefully I did, since it was worth 50% of my mark.

I also randomly got a phone call today from the Toronto Star. I had applied to be one of their photographers back in November. Which I didn't get. But now they want me to interview for a job as one of the Photo Editors. Basically, he explained, exactly like my job at the Charlatan but on a larger scale.

The problem? I already have a summer job that I'm really excited about. In Ottawa. That pays $14/hour. That means financial security for next year. Toronto Star would pay $9.50/hour ish. And I would have to move to Toronto for the summer, which would mean spending nearly everything I made. Which would definitely change my plans. But... but... it's the TORONTO STAR! I mean... it would basically guarantee me any photo job I wanted when I graduated.

So it's this huge dilemna. Of course, I have to interview for the job first. So I guess I'll go to Toronto sometime this month for the interview. And then see what happens? It would be such a hard choice to make.

Sometimes life really surprises you, eh?

I thought when Fae and I took this challenge, to think positively about our lives and see the effects.. I thought for sure it wouldn't make a difference. And definitely wouldn't work. But now I'm not so sure. I mean, it's hard every day. But... somehow I feel like a puzzle who's pieces are starting to fit together again. I'm hopeful for everything coming up.

I hope I'm not cursing myself and speaking too soon. But I feel this is good. For both of us.

And it was raining cats and dogs outside of her window
And she knew they'd be destined to become sacred road kill on the way
And she was listening to the sound of heaven shaking
Thinking about puddles.. puddles and mistakes...

take these broken wings and learn to fly...

here comes the sun, little darling. here comes the sun. and I say, 'It's all right. It's all right."

daydreams

The inside jacket of one of my books:

"Heather C. Montgomery is a Canadian currently living in London. She has a Bachelor of Journalism in Journalism and Greek and Roman Studies from Carleton University in Ottawa, Ontario. For her "real" job, she directs documentaries for the BBC. She lives in a two bedroom flat with her best friend, renowned American artist Sarah Parker and travels the world on weekends. Previous works include Governor General literary award winning Metamorphoses and international best seller The Grocery Line: Collected Poems and Adventures of a Canadian in London. She is currently working on an untitled historical fiction novel about Cleopatra Selene."

I really should be studying....

for the thrill of it, for everything that mattered...

Well, predictably I did not wake up and go running this morning. But I DID get a job. Which is nice. Starting Apr. 30 I'm the Lead Heritage Leader at Pinhey's Point historic site. Yay for money and cushy city jobs!

I also got some more freelance assignments for Carleton Now. A few more photographs and a story. I know, I said I would never write articles in my spare time because I hate it.. but they're paying me $0.30 a word. And it's pretty easy fluff articles anyway! I don't need to FIND sources, they're handed to me on a silver platter.

So it looks like, if I remain patient, money matters may finally resolve themselves.

I am NOT doing so well, however, on studying for my Greek and Roman Literary Genre exam on Friday. Must read some plays tonight. And remind myself that I have a text book and two pretty boring primary sources to read for my Greek History exam next week.

I went to see my sister's latest show today. Her Master's directing workshop class was performing scenes they had all directed/acted in. The text they had was two scenes from Ariadne, and they were each to present it differently, but all using a lot of movement. I found it really interesting. There was probably a lot that I didn't understand in terms of the movement and the acting, but it had me thinking about the themes in the Ariadne myth. Most important, memory and the labyrinth. Is the labyrinth a construct of memory? Is Ariadne the labyrinth? Is Ariadne a God-like figure, using her "thread" to orchestrate Theseus and the Minotaur like puppets? Is Theseus the typical hero, or is Ariadne? Theseus would have never defeated the Minotaur if not for Ariadne. Is the labyrinth a real place or a symbol for consciousness? Is the labyrinth really the maze of each person's mind, created and sustained by memory and vision? And if it is, is the Minotaur then conscience and Theseus the triumph of will?

It's interesting, anyway. I took a lot from it, and enjoyed talking to Laura and her friend Sarah about it afterwards. It gave me ideas about how I would write the myth myself. About the non-literal interpretations of myth in general. If my goal is to write my book in a sort of post-modern, disjointed way... then I need to think of these myths in a much less literal way. In terms of sound and space and movement, maybe, like they did today.

I also love the symbol of the labyrinth. I remember doing Labyrinth walking last year, and I think I would really like to try it again. It's a great way to meditate and see your life in terms of a path. I'm also thinking again that I might get a labyrinth tattoo. There's so much meaning behind it, not only in terms of the myth and history, but in terms of life's journey.

Good day, today, I think. The weather is definitely helping my mood. I want to be outside forever.

one for thousands of words

I'm going to try and do at least one different/interesting thing each day. Despite exams. Tomorrow I think I might wake up in the morning and see if I can run. I don't normally run. We'll see if it works out. I'll make a playlist.

I have a lot of changes to make, this is just the beginning. I'm trying to remember this is a beginning, when I just feel stuck.

vacancy signs

I just had a long, incredibly sad conversation with my dad about his relationship with my mother and his store. I want to scream. Or cry. Or both?

This day is proving to be very difficult.

nothing there all along

Kaitlyn and I had a very interesting conversation over coffee on Friday night. We started talking about those days where you just feel really self conscious and it ruins your whole day. Both of us are smart, logical people. We were saying how we could always see exactly why we're acting the way we are, or why something bothers us more than it should. But that in the end it doesn't matter much - our feelings always trump this logic.

It was nice to know that someone else felt this way. Because I definitely could tell you exactly why I do everything I do, why I react in certain ways to certain situations. But knowing or understanding doesn't change the emotional reaction.

I'm a war of head versus heart, it's always this way. My head is weak, my heart always speaks before I know what it will say....