Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Holloumu's LiveJournal:

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Sunday, September 4th, 2005
3:18 pm	Moved Oh yeah, I've moved my little blog. Wanna know where? Email me... (Comment on this)
Thursday, June 30th, 2005
11:32 am	Going away I have a friend, who was a boyfriend way long time ago. Like 15 years ago, and even though we have obviously gone our own ways, we still are good friends. He's sort of a "soul" friend, when we need each other, we are there, and the rest of the time we live our own lives independant of each other. I think he'll be there, standing in the background for the rest of my life and his. I'm in his background too. I'm the stabilizing force. His friends have all lead a tough life and many didn't make it this far. I'm the voice of normal, of mainstream, of people not on welfare or 'selling herbal medicines.' Since I started my new job he's been there as a MSN friend, someone neutral to bitch too. But now he's going away, for a long time, till December at least, to Virginia of all places. I took him to the bus stop yesterday with all his luggage to check into a locker, and of course the lockers at the bus station are closed. So everything came to my house, a disaster with my own unpacking. And soon he's coming to pick everything up and I'm kind of blue that he's vanishing again. It's not that I need him in my life right now, he's just that extra hand that pats me on the back and tells me I've done enough. I wonder where his compass is pointing. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, June 29th, 2005
2:30 pm	BC at LAST I'm home. I'm sick. I'm itchy and covered in red itchy welts, welts I say. Stupid mosquitoes... My back's better, so I don't walk like an 80 year old, I just sounds like one. (Comment on this)
Monday, June 20th, 2005
10:15 am	time flies I'm doing this stupid thing for work and I consider how fast time goes. Almost August? It seems like the summer is almost gone.... or I spontaneously decided the month after June is AUGUST not JULY. Sigh. (Comment on this)
Friday, June 17th, 2005
3:38 pm	Interviews How'd it go? Thanks for asking. Well it was ok. It's a bit high for me, very executive, don't think I'm that person. Don't think I'll get it, that's ok. I'm ok with that. I rocked on the writing side, I always rock on anything writing. This morning when I got up and got dressed and got ready I thought "Why don't I just stay at home and stay in bed today." I didn't. I went shopping after the interview and grabbed a horrid lunch (ahh that's why my tummy hurts and the room is spinning) and bought some pillows and other stuff. Do you watch Blackadder? Did you see the episode with "Bob" who was a girl dressed as a boy so she could "join the army?" That cracked me up. I almost grabbed a pair of underwear with this funky Bob emblem on it, I picked another pair. I'm off on another rainy Vancouver day. me (Comment on this)
Thursday, June 16th, 2005
11:13 am	Sexy juice.... Last night was another big media sort do. And even though I was in so much pain (oh god my back hurts) even though the sports guy kind of fixed me, I couldn't walk around for ten minutes without attracting "attention." "Hi, my name's Blah blah blah." I didn't care, I hurt, I wanted dinner. No matter how "uninterested" I was they gave me their cards, asked me for dinner, for drinks, for coffee, for my hand in marriage (kidding about that one, but one was hinting that he was looking for a 'life' partner with puppy dog eyes). And once one left for five minutes, he was replaced. I could hardly keep them straight, and a glass of wine on top of excruciating PAIN didn't help. I have five foreign cards in my purse. And I know I shouldn't complain about it. Men talking to me, bringing me wine, giving me their business cards, giving me that "hey baby" look, isn't really an insult or something to complaining about. So I'm not complaining. Just puzzled. It seems that when I'm most uncomfortable (in this case because of my back) and feel the awfullest, I get the most attention. Usually it happens when I'm PMS-ing and pissed off and haven't taken a shower all day. And it puzzles the hell out of me. Sometimes I feel good. I feel sexy and young and (gasp) even hip. My clothes fit and I'm comfortable. I'm not looking for anyone here, but I feel good about myself. And no one blinks an eye, people are polite sure, but don't give off that "I like you" vibe. And then days like yesterday where I was sore to the point of TEARS and just wanting dinner and to go home, and all these men, and they weren't boys, but MEN with suits and business cards and accoutrements of manlihood, were like "Hi." It doesn't seem to matter what other girls or women are around, or what I'm wearing or my hair cleanliness factor or if I'm wearing an engagement ring or not. Not that I wear it anymore but this is a trend, not a one-night thing. I went to M's house to see if I was particularly attractive or if the audience just wasn't picky. He wasn't home. Perhaps I should go "boyfriend shopping" (not that I'm looking for a boyfriend) wearing a corset. With dirty hair and for good measure I won't shower. It's the secret to sexiness ladies. Frankly, however, I don't think it works for men (or does it??? comments???). I've come up with three (3) theories on this odd phemonenon. One: Pheromones. Without showering I give off more pheromones, the sex hormones, so guys can't help be interested. Two: Conciousness. When I'm pissed off I don't worry about anyone else. I'm in my own world (which shouldn't be sexy). I'm like "Give me wine and seafood now" so people have to work hard to get my attention. Three: Men are weird. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, June 15th, 2005
1:15 pm	Spectators It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors. -- Oscar Wilde. I'm tired of spectatoring and ready to start creating mirrors. In "The Importance of Being Earnest" a useful character is invented called "Bunbury." He is an invalid friend used as an excuse to go off into the country and cause trouble. This "visiting" of a non-existent friend is called Bunbury-ing. I'm busy and getting ready to do my own Bunbury-ing for the end of the month. No one at work has emailed or messengered me for at least a week. It's very odd, this dream of working alone is becoming well, lonely. My second job interview is on Friday. Freelance work is coming in and I am getting ready to tackle it. Of course this preparedness might also be the result of knowing that I'm off and don't need to worry about it for a while. Is that enough of an update Ms. P? me-at-home (Comment on this)
Thursday, June 9th, 2005
10:56 am	phew I'm home. I'm back from my interview and I'm tired and headachy and hungry and I want cookies and coffee. The interview went fine. I don't know how I did or anything, don't even know if I want the job anymore. I was chipper and smiley and happy and everything but right now I just want to crawl back into bed and hide under the covers and read a book. I want to fall asleep and have someone wake me up and have a bowl of hot tomato soup waiting for me, with real crackers, the type with salt on them. That's what I want. (I hate tomatoes, love tomato soup -- go figure) Of course that reminds me I have to return my way overdue books to the library -- who has time to read? (Comment on this)
Wednesday, June 8th, 2005
12:34 pm	Everyone's a winner baby Actually me and two other people are winner at the West End Writer's Club One-Page competition. Hurrah! I got the call yesterday. What does this mean? Well, there are three winners, I don't know which I am and I don't know which of the two stories I entered won, but on June 21 they have a ceremony and readings and comments from the judges. Hurray for me! (Comment on this)
Tuesday, June 7th, 2005
9:43 am	Missing.... So I called Grandma's boyfriend/ex-boyfriend/boyfriend. They fight all the time and then get back together. And then they forget that they fought or forget that they broke up. When we started planning this party Grandma was like, "Well if you want to invite him, fine, but don't you let him give you a hard time." Now Marcel, that's the boyfriend, likes me. I think he likes me because I'm Grandma's favourite and because he can tease her by saying things like, "I think I'm going to marry that girl." Meaning me. He also calls me his "girlfriend," again to tease Grandma. It's actually a bit frightening to have my Grandma's boyfriend, who must be about 80 as well, threaten to marry me! I just realized I was conned into buying Grandma a birthday gift from Marcel as well as one from me! Those old men are sneaky aren't they? Regardless, knowing that he likes me I offered to call, hoping to ease the tension between them. He wouldn't be mean to his "girlfriend" would he? In fact that's exactly what I said, "Hi Marcel, it's your girlfriend from BC calling." He laughed and we talked for a bit. We talked about wheat prices and pickerel fishing and the weather and how the streets of Prince Albert are still dusty from the salting machines. I realize that's what's missing in my life. That's why I keep this stupid LJ even, I miss that "little thing" talking. I miss telling someone what I did last night and talking about the weather and a new restaurant. I have my friends but those discussions always go deeper really. It's never just, "I went to see Layer Cake with xBrian last night." It always gets into how my relationship with xB is progressing, how we are finally mending the rift caused five years ago when I moved to Germany, how we are moving onto a deeper level of friendship, how his work is going, how I am comfortable around him again, how we meet as equals now. But I'd like just to have that superficial conversation sometimes. The "I saw this movie, it was like a cross between Get Shorty and Transpotting, it was totally suspenseful. The type of movie people jump out of closets and kill others when you least suspect it. And then I get home and turn on the light in the hallway and the bulb explodes. I was ready to walk out and go stay at someone else's house, but I went in." Without getting into the discussions on deeper levels. I like my friends mostly for being able to have those deep discussions but... I also miss people around who don't know me so well. I miss people who can look at me and not know I've been crying or alternatively just had a great date. Sometimes those emotions are things I'd like to keep and savour and hold, and not explain. Perhaps that's why I keep talking to strangers on the bus, and at the coffee shop, and in the stores.... Take care all (Comment on this)
Monday, June 6th, 2005
10:52 am	no cookies No cookies in the house. Not even one. No Fudgee-oos, no Oreo-oos, no anything -oo's and not even graham crackers. How will I make it through a week of working at home. Watched the Hitchcock/Cary Grant film North by Northwest last night and had the wildest dreams. I only remember scenes: a box of hand-rolled cigars, not the type that are big at the end but they are perfectly rolled so the end twists and isn't cut off. Obviously a reference to Friday night's cigar lesson from K after watching teens go to their graduation party. Did you go to graduation? I mean the dinner/dance portion. It was so sweet and touching and sad to see these kids taking their first shot at looking and acting grown-up. K remembered his sadness at not being able to take his high-school sweethear to the dance. Her parents didn't approve. I think he is still in love with the idea of her, it makes it hard for him to let others in. Ideas are far easier to love than real flesh-and-blood people who get angry and have nasty habits, ideas for example don't pick their noses. But that's another story. I thought of how grown-up I felt on my grad night and how glad I was to get rid of the skin of a high-school student. I didn't think I'd make it through the night. I thought I would surely die and that it was fated to happen so in a way I was wearing a bit of a funeral gown. In the end, of course, I lived. I asked a boy to dance with me, a first, since I hadn't been to a school dance since grade 10. I didn't even recognize this guy who was terribly reluctant to accept but also cute. I was tired of the boys I knew who would talk to me and watch me, but not dance with me. I didn't realize of course it was "Stairway to Heavan" which is both impossibly long and impossible to dance to with a reluctant partner. A lesson about letting men come to you? Perhaps. After the official party, we didn't drink, we drove around the city in Mark's dad's car, watching the stars on the top of Cypress and the sun rise at Stanley Park. Drinking wasn't even an option, or something we would have considered. At some point I changed my gown for jeans and a t-shirt but kept on the sparkly make up and impossibly groomed hair. We went to Gary Point in Richmond and burned our notes for the exams we had just finished. It felt wonderful and free. I remember being in Pitt Meadows after driving someone home and going into a gas station, "Where am I?" I said with tears falling down my artifically blushed cheeks. The gas station attendant, who must have been about 19 gave me a sweet, funny look and I convinced myself he was flirting with me because he knew now I was grown up. So many of the girls at the graduation on Friday wore the whitest gowns you'd seen, they looked like brides and K and I talked about the stereotype of losing one's viginity on grad night. But I'm not sure I know anyone who did. You could see some of the same groups were there by watching these students. Some were the drama group with wild outfits. Some were the homely girls transformed into swans and the guys either walked in stiff-backed or swaggered in white tuxedos with matching top hats. I would have loved to hear what they said. It was the last time I'll see K, ever or in the near future. It is always sad to say goodbye, but not totally goodbye because we can still e-mail... It was bittersweet. We both were there for a transformational period in each other's life. It was a bit like saying goodbye to a liferaft, you don't need it but it still holds a place in your heart. Rice Krispies are almost as good as cookies, I think I'll reward myself with some right now.... Current Mood: contemplative (Comment on this)
Friday, June 3rd, 2005
1:41 pm	nice people Some days all the friends you've made along the way decide to get in touch and find out how you are doing. Or just about all the friends, including: My fishing buddy, who helped me get my first fly fishing rod (er and my second rod too, sad sad story that). Who's offered me the use of the spare room when I pass through both times later this month. He calls the guest room "my" room, even though he and his wife often have friends stay over. They've even painted a holly border in my honour. Now that's funny. A girl friend from high school who's lovely nice and always fun to talk to. She's a runner but recovering from surgery so we'd be well matched to run together. My old boss who still wants me to write for her. (Read: Wants to help me make car payments). And she was SO nice about my assignments that are (sob) eight weeks late. Sometimes I pretend that "I vant to be alone." But really, it's just pretend. Shhhhhh..... a little secret. So what should you do? Well get in touch with me or get in touch with the friends you've made along the way. And tonight a lovely "see-you-later" dinner with tempermental artist K down at White Rock. He's going to his next "assignment" and won't be back. He promises a divine glass of port. I love port. Tomorrow looks just as promising as today. Current Mood: content (Comment on this)
Thursday, June 2nd, 2005
9:23 am	a calf in the sheets To create a limp Fall asleep Twist sheets around foot, or foot around sheets Pull sheets towards you for a great stretch Continue for hours and wake up in great amounts of pain In sleepy state you won't figure out why calf hurts Release sheet Fall asleep and repeat every two hours or so Wake up with white foot from having the blood squished out of as well as being pulled in the wrong direction. Voila! A limp! Current Mood: sore (Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 31st, 2005
12:14 pm	Peace? Finally realized why I was so upset about Ex, and told him, in my sleepless fit on Sunday. He understood, I got it through to him and he understood why I did what I did and I understood why I was so angry. Finally got confirmation from him that our break-up was mutual, that he had quit dreaming of coming to get me and that, had I chosen, I would have been stuck a German Frau in backwater Friesland forever. Just call me Bettina! It feels so good to know that. Part of me kept thinking that I could wait another week and another month. I felt it, I felt it for months that the idea of him coming wasn't happening. He said that he could have kept coming to Canada to visit me twice a year for the rest of his life. I couldn't have done that. He said he never would have broken up with me. Thank god I had the courage to break up with him. My fury at him and at life, and now I know fury, is subsiding as the tide subsides. I can feel the anger flowing away from me. I told him he gave me peace. He wants to continue to be friends, but I have no idea what to say to him. How odd, we spent five years tied to each other and now he is like a stranger to me. He wants to talk about my love life: that is out of bounds, he has no right to that knowledge. And onto work. The new job offer sounds challenging and exciting, the only "downside" would include lots of travel, once a week to Kamloops generally. Now I'll be one of those business travellers. I'd have to wear grown-up clothes to work, but sometimes it's fun to dress up. If I get it, and there is no guarentee I will, I wonder if I could contract with my company to do the Vancouver site in the evenings? Probably not. I guess I just went through a winter of discontent. I guess it is just starting to be spring though my sunburn indicates summer. How nice to find a new life blooming, a life fertilized from the crap of the past. Current Mood: peaceful (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Monday, May 30th, 2005
1:06 am	One AM Do you know where I am? Yes, sitting in my office. Sigh. Can't sleep. Not fair. Not fair at all. Sleeping habits upside down tonight. Perkier than a really perky thing that drank a whole vat of coffee. Causes? Mmmm: Stress? Over stupid boys (not you of course), job prospects (another job just sort of landed in my lap this evening) Too much exercise? Is this possible? I went to the gym for an hour and then when visiting parents it was divine outside so Mom and I went for a walk and then as soon as I got home Divine M called and said, "Wanna go for a walk and ice cream?" Who can resist a walk and ice cream? I mean you have to have a heart of stone to say no! So a walk and strawberry cheesecake ice cream at Bellagio's on Main (exquisite, no other word to describe it but exquisite). So home and chastely to bed at 10:30 and my eyes just stayed wide awake. OK, so meditate. Sa ta na ma, sa ta na ma. When it sounds like traffic directions, I know I'm going to fast. So I slow down. Nothing. Then I start thinking about things. A bad idea, so I convince myself to stop. But sometimes I'm unstoppable (Eric said I was stubborn on Friday, hmmmph). I think about anger and relationships and testing. I realize that I was testing EX by breaking off our engagement and that didn't work so well, and then maybe I was testing B by pulling back from our relationship a bit. And that didn't work so well either, he ran the other way. And both times I wanted someone to say, "No, I love you and I'm not going to let this go so easily. This means something to me." It's interesting then that I have pulled back and ran practically screaming from M but he stands his ground and says, "No, you're not going to scare me. I'm not going anywhere. If you want me to go, fine, but you have to say it and mean it." I've told him EVERYTHING. He knows my inner flaws probably better than anyone. I mean anyone. That says a lot. I have a lot of inner flaws. I tried to get rid of him, to scare him off, really I did! I can't even white lie to him, you know those little innocent things you cover with like saying you're upset because you had a fight with a friend when you really had a heated debate with an ex. Or that you need to pick up vitamins from the store when you need birth control or laxatives or some embarassing thing. These aren't huge things, hardly worth mentioning, but damn, I say them and five minutes later I'm like, "Yeah, no that was my ex on the phone" or "Actually I need tampons." And he says, "Yeah, I know. That's ok." It's a brave man that says, "Yep, you screw up, but I know there is a good person inside and you're not going to scare me away by tales of the past." There's a LOT he hasn't said, a lot hasn't been said between us. We pretty much go on as when we first met. Ok, but with more kissing and mushy stuff, because that didn't happen at first. I do admire his fortitude. And perhaps that is why I can't sleep tonight, not because of the people who've left, but because of the one who stayed. Now my sleep tea is fully brewed and I'm going to see if the Simpsons is on my basic cable package. The word of the day is Bravura, and if I sleep, which I may not, I hope to wake and live the rest of today with its definition: a display of spirit, daring, or boldness. I think I will interview for that job. Hurrah! Or Bravura! Current Mood: awake (Comment on this)
Friday, May 27th, 2005
9:05 am	world conspiracy Sometimes I feel I'm at the centre of a universe conspiracy to keep me moving and growing and just when I think I've made all the decisions I need to, a new one comes along. So I've got this job which I've had for two months. I enjoy it, it gives me a measure of freedom and free tickets to things that give free tickets. The pay is better than what I made before and all in all, things are going good. Well my old boss called, a boss from when I was a university student struggling to pay for my tuition etc. She always liked me and now works as an HR manager for a big corporation. She has the perfect job for me she says, she says whenever she thinks of this job she sees me doing it. The pay is a huge increase from what I make now -- about double my old job! And the title, the title alone is worth it. This is beyond management, it's higher than that, I'd be working with the top of the top of the corporation. The hours would be good, it'd be something new every day, unlike my current job where the only difference is the defendants on People's Court. But I'd have to straighten my lines, legibilize my scripts, no more sleepy Holly walking home at 8 am and working in PJs. But is it about the money? Is it about the excitement? Am I ready to take on this HUGE responsibility. I hear Mark snicker in my head, "Of course you are," he says. They, the people around me, have far more faith in me than I do. What does Ms. H want? (Comment on this)
Thursday, May 26th, 2005
9:52 am	Questions of Ettiquette OK, so someone says to you, "I have a free pass to a movie, wanna come?" And you do so you say, "Yes." This is not a date, first of all, just two old friends going to a movie. So you get to theatre and it turns out your friend is actually a movie sponsor and shoves a pile of brochures into your hands to hand out to other movie people. You weren't expecting to work and feel slightly ratty in your jeans etc. You are also thinking, I'm employed, I don't need to do this as he small talks with other people, leaving you as cheif brochure girl. But free movie right? Worth complaining about? No. So after the movie friend says, hungry, there's a little cafe down the street. I know the cafe, it's a French place and the food is reasonable. We get there and it's open mic night, but these people can't sing, so they turn the volume up. So we leave for another place on Broadway, another reasonable place. In the end I suggest four places, two closed and the other two snubbed. We end up at this lovely but expensive place, Bin 942. It's good, but at this point I just want a salad and say that. No we order four plates and then two glasses of wine (even though I'm craving a Coke-- me drinking a coke, this night is truly odd) But the wine is ordered, and then another glass and then dessert. The bill comes. Now I'm not broke, but a $10 dinner was really what I wanted and friend is the one who insisted on expensive place, ordered four dishes and three glasses of wine and dessert. The bill is $80. Who should pay? Now I always try to do that balance thing with friends. If I insist on a nice place to someone who really can't afford it, I usually cover their dish or pay more or whatever. When I'm broke, my friends cover for me if they want something more substantial than White Spot of something. And I usually order just a bit, because then I don't have money to throw away. Usually we mutually agree to eat at the lesser expensive place so no one feels they're getting charity. This friend isn't hurting bank account-wise, and I'm feeling he should pay any more than $10. It was his idea, his choice of expensive restaurant, I've even mentioned I don't have money having just bought a new car. So I say, "Look I've got $5." He gives me $50 and tells me to put it on my credit card. So $30 on my Visa (which takes me 10 minutes to find because I haven't used it for so long). Is it my fault for going for dinner? For not insisting he pay, or should I cough up and split the bill thus paying for his three glasses of wine, dessert and huge dinner? I did pay the rest of the bill, but had this slightly sour taste in my mouth. The other thing is when said-friend and I did date 10 years ago we had a fight about me not ever being allowed to pay for anything. He wouldn't let me pay for my own darn coffee or buy a chocolate bar at the grocery store. I sometimes wanted to split the bill and he'd look at me disdainfully. It was the disdain that killed me. Even though my salary was a tiny bit of his, I could still afford the occasional piece of pie or coffee. I guess there's a history here, but it's never been an issue since. If I'm dating, sometimes I pay, sometimes you pay but everything is within reason. If he makes crazy big money, then let him pay most of the time, if we make the same, then we split it or share costs, if I make the money, I'll pay. I've never made crazy big money but.... Suggestions, comments... (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Wednesday, May 25th, 2005
4:12 pm	There's spooky noises coming from the kitchen. Like something is climbing up the drain. Really. I think it's time to go for a run.... (Comment on this)
11:35 am	conference calls Ohhhhh...... I thought that working at home meant an end to boring meetings but I've been on the phone for an hour listening to things I could have read online about benefits packages -- what happens if you get cancer, or your spouse gets cancer or blah blah blah blah blah. At least no one can see me rolling my eyes and looking bored. At least I have a benefits package, we're on page 24 or 29, then a demo, then questions. Current Mood: cranky (Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 24th, 2005
1:33 pm	Tuesdays that are like Mondays It's Tuesday, but it's like a Monday, because it's the first day of the week because of the holiday, but it's a Tuesday because I have dance class tonight but it's Monday because I haven't been home all weekend. Odd when home becomes a place of work I want to do anything but be here. I don't even want to sleep here. The window cleaning guy came and stood on a ladder and cleaned the outside of the windows. He reminded me of the UPS man when I had an "outside" job. I wonder sometimes if I've breathed all the air in the apartment and should keep the windows open. Mom had her surgery and is home and says she's fine. Thank god for free healthcare or between her and grandma -- whew! Reminds me I have to call Grandma's boyfriend. We're inviting him to the big do in June. Secretly, they had a fight and my phone call will get him to call her (in theory) and she'll have someone to boot around with. It's not really a secret, we all know this is the goal of my phone call, but god I have enough problems with my own relationships sometime than to worry about her and Frenchy making up! Or making out -- even worse! Anonymous Funky Cool Journalist where are you! Share your angst-filled stories with me, you're the only one who understands this life. Thursday? After yoga? Chapters that we met at last time? Same time? I'm dying for a Matcha latte, have you had one, they're green which is odd, but taste so yummy. I could drive you home in my NEW CAR! We also need to talk about a writers' night out for work, I'm looking for funding from my boss. There's this cute/funny writer guy, my age, who's also on the team. OK, honestly Ms. P, I don't know if he's cute, but he sounds cute and is certainly amusing. And he's not my age, he's a year older, but still. If you haven't met your dream man in the aisles of Home Depot that is... All I meet in HD is disdainful clerks and families with the children knawing on screws in Aisle 19. As for my car, my little Ana-kin, my little silver rocket. Oh my goodness that sounds like a Star Wars reference, though it isn't, it's just her name. My little car is divine, ran fantabulously 800 km for a TANK of gas. The trunk is a tad small, no hiding boxes or Christmas presents. I still haven't seen Star Wars, part II or III and actually, come to think of it, I never saw part VI either. Back to work! (Comment on this)