Oh I so feel like myself again lately. I think I’ve simply experienced this reverse culture-shock problem upon having moved here. But I’m getting back to me. It’s true: you can take the girl out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the girl. I like going out. I like being social. I like being the person I’ve been for awhile now, and I’ve let a lot of people make me feel like I needed to make some revisions based on my location. Fuck that. I’m tired of walking around on eggshells, not being myself (even if I have traits other people don’t like) because they find me to be too bold. This is where my lack of confidence has been stemming from. God, I think without the reinforcing influence of my friends, I’ve returned to my greatest fault: trying to please people too much. I have an unimpressively long history of bending to accommodate the comfort levels of other people.
If you don’t like me, we don’t have to be friends. Why is this such a hard thing for me to accept? I don’t like everybody. Is it reasonable to want everyone to like me?
Adolfo is quitting. He got a better job, I guess. I’m still looking, although now that he’s departing, I may be offered his job. I don’t want to be presumptuous, by any means, but it looks like things at work will be picking up now that summer is ending. Kids are going back to school, so a lot of them are leaving and/or only working part time. I’ve got 5 morning shifts and two solid days off every week. I won’t be starting until 7:30 again, but I’m on until 4, so I’m getting full time hours, solid, perhaps even overtime. I think I’ve recently received a great deal of credit for working so well and staying out of all of the unnecessary, dramatic bullshit that’s been plaguing the restaurant lately. I’ve tried my best to maintain my neutrality and ignorance of those events, even when I was somewhat at the forefront of them. It’s stupidly unprofessional, and I knew if I got sucked into it all, I’d end up quitting. However, this doesn’t necessarily mean that the hunt for the bigger, better job is over. I’ve had a few people at the Casino ask me to apply. I will do, likely as a server in the bistro and a refreshment hostess on the slot machine floor. Ultimately, I’d love to be a prize accountant there.
Nevertheless: Kassi, I missed you.
I’ve been dreaming about HIM again (he which we do not name around here). It’s not that sad, forlorn "why-is-my-life-so-bad", self-pity kind of stuff, and not even some strange alternate universe where everything since the fated day went differently. I dreamt that somehow our paths re-crossed, and the healing hand of time weaved its spell. We moved back into our first place in Vancouver we’d lived in together and started over. The most vivid part was this: I was looking out the window at a plant pot in the Japanese Garden that I must have seen a million times. I stared at it and it looked different. I remember how it looked before all of this happened to me, like my perception of everything in the universe has changed. And my heart was sad. That small thing made things very clear on how I feel about it all. I feel like there is no going back to that person, that I can’t— that she’s dead. That person died in that hospital and I’m the one who walked out. Something I believed in died with her. My faith.
Another thing I was thinking today… Victoria has gone for a week to stay at Chris and John’s. Tori has been very combatative with everyone lately. She doesn’t seem to think that it’s indicative of her age, but she’s always determined to have an opinion or desire that is contrary to everyone else’s, it seems, just to be contrary. She gets mean, interrupts, is one-dimensional and closed minded, defensive, argumentative and rude, when she does so. She’s been doing it to me since I moved here. I know she’s just protecting her position. She’s been one half of a twosome in Mom’s house for a very long time, and it’s hard to become one of three wheels when you’re accustomed to a bigger piece of the pie. I get it. I WAS that sister once. But now she’s pulling the same mean shit on Mom, and it’s setting Mom off like a bomb. She almost threw Victoria out a handful of times, and finally understands my position when Victoria and I have been reduced to stupid fights. Mom needed some space, and so did Tori.
In the meantime, Mom and I have been cultivating our own personal friendship. We were never well-acquainted, even through the years we’ve reunited in past being estranged for so long. We’re making our own one-on-one memories. We sat down this weekend and watched some of a series on Shaw Video On Demand called ReGenesis. It’s got Ellen Page in it. It’s sort-of House and CSI mashed up if it was set in a Bio Chemical Lab that investigates viruses. It’s very cool. Anyhow, there was one episode that touched on the concept of human cloning and ethics. In the story, a man had finded a pharmaceutical company’s endeavor to clone Jesus Christ using a vial of blood found in a shrine somewhere in Europe. There was this huge story arc about it. The man who was doing the press on it was defending it using science. This got me thinking…
This is one of the many reasons I’ve never pandered to a religion. The religious have a tendency to disregard science when it can prove things that are contrary to their beliefs (i.e. The Big Bang Theory and Evolution) but will defend it to the death when it can support and/or prove their beliefs (the existence of Jesus Christ, and his race as a Semite). In The DaVinci Code the Catholic Church fights the notion that Jesus bore a child with Mary Magdylane and their bloodline is still alive today, even though science supports it. In Stigmata, the Catholic Church also argues the validity of the Nag Hamadi (the lost scrolls of Jesus Christ) even though they have been proven genuine by science. However, the Catholic Church was also quite ready to agree with science when it was proven with DNA evidence, that Jesus Christ did, in fact, exist.
This continues, like a trickle-down effect, into simpler matters. People choose a religion as a template, then start picking and choosing which rules they do and don’t want to follow, what parts of their intended worship they plan to ignore or modify to their liking. They essentially take a piece of cheese, and like a rodent, chew holes in it until it’s a hollow, brittle memory of cheese, which they then still try to pass off as the genuine article. Most religions are a gross bastardization of a variation on the genuine article that has been edited and modified thousands of times, and hardly resembles the original article at all. So much for that, huh?
I’m more of a philosopher. At least then I don’t claim to believe in anything solid. My beliefs are what I make of them, and I don’t have to lie in order to choose it, either. I’m a lover, I’m a warrior, I’m an amazon, I’m a child, I’m a believer, I’m a dreamer. I’m a goddamned treasure.