kid cudi | |Eloquence is Bliss|

Hello, readers!

It’s 10:24pm, and I have officially been awake for 1 hour and 45 minutes. Vega and I both apparently needed a “mini-hibernation,” so we both succumbed to a thirteen and a half hour snooze and woke up this evening feeling refreshed and more than well rested. All things considered, it really isn’t that big of a deal–we’re going to be attacking the Kijiji-realm and posting the last few odds and ends we haven’t listed yet, Vega’s got some work to do, I have an early morning run planned, and we’ll be visiting my old workplace tomorrow afternoon to figure out our U-Haul rental for the move. In the words of Sheen, “winning.”

The only downside to the long ass sleep was the onset of some pretty nasty nightmares. I really, really hope that my psyche figures its shit out soon here. There really are only so many nights of this that I can take. On the plus side, I managed to sleep through these ones – on the negative, I remember them pretty vividly. I’m trying not to put too much stock into them, which is made infinitely easier by the fact that when I wake up shaken, the first thing I see when I roll over is the face of my lovely man (and I always get the best snuggles from him, so that makes things easier too). Not much I can do about them scary dreams other than let them work their way through my brain. Hopefully I’ll be saying sayonara to them forever when we make it to the coast – I feel like a lot of this is coming from just being in Calgary. There’s plenty of old ghosts in this city, and I can’t wait to leave them all behind.

Anywhore. Besides being excited about the move, I’m excited about the new training plan I’ve put together for myself for June and the first 2 weeks of July. The distances aren’t anything impressive, but I want to work on my form and increase my pace, so I’ve decided to start small and work my way back up. Id been planning on starting it this week; however, with Endure and Brother’s grad, I’ve made the executive decision to push it back a week and spend this week working on hills and intervals. Regardless, the plan looks like this:

WEEK 1: JUNE 3-JUNE 9
Monday, June 3: maintenance run (3.5 miles/5.63 kilometres)
Wednesday, June 5: fartlek run (3 miles/4.83 kilometres)
Friday, June 7: long run (4 miles/6.44 kilometres)
Total Weekly Distance: 10.5 miles/16.9 kilometres

WEEK 2: JUNE 10-JUNE 16 Monday, June 10: maintenance run (4 miles/6.44 kilometres)
Wednesday, June 12: fartlek run (3.25 miles/5.23 kilometres)
Friday, June 14: long run (5 miles/8.05 kilometres)
Total Weekly Distance: 12.25 miles/19.71 kilometres

WEEK 3: JUNE 17-JUNE 23
Monday, June 17: maintenance run (4 miles/6.44 kilometres)
Wednesday, June 19: fartlek run (3 miles/4.83 kilometres)
Friday, June 21: long run (4 miles/6.44 kilometres)
Total Weekly Distance: 11 miles/17.7 kilometres

WEEK 4: JUNE 24-JUNE 30
Monday, June 24: maintenance run (5 miles/8.05 kilometres)
Wednesday, June 26: cadence drills (3.5 miles/5.63 kilometres)
Friday, June 28: long run (6 miles/9.66 kilometres)
Total Weekly Distance: 14.5 miles/23.34 kilometres

WEEK 5: JULY 1 – JULY 7
Monday, July 1: maintenance run (5.5 miles/8.85 kilometres)
Wednesday, July 3: interval work (3 miles/4.83 kilometres)
Friday, July 5: long run (4 miles/6.44 kilometres)
Total Weekly Distance: 12.5 miles/20.12 kilometres

WEEK 6: JULY 8-JULY 14
Monday, July 8: maintenance run (6 miles/9.66 kilometres)
Wednesday, July 10: tempo run (3.5 miles/5.63 kilometres)
Friday, July 12: long run (7 miles/11.27 kilometres)
Total Weekly Distance: 16.5 miles/26.65 kilometres

6 WEEK TOTALS:
Miles Run: 77.25
Kilometres Run: 124.32

Considering that come week 5, I’ll be running next to the water in beautiful Victoria, I anticipate myself having a hard time sticking to the plan, especially on 3 mile days. That said, there is a method to my madness, and I’m hoping to see an increase in my comfortable mile pace by the end of this summer kickstarter plan.

Anybody want to join me? Hell, if I can get a group together, I might even be able to get a contest going and send out prizes to those readers who keep up and get ‘er done with me by July 12th! Any takers? If you’re interested, drop me a line (my email is in the “Contact” dropdown menu) with the subject “RUN FORREST RUN!” Prizes TBA. Feeling like a badass, guaranteed.

You know you wannnnnnaaaaa!

Since we’re on the topic of running, I wanted to take a few minutes and address a question posed to me by one of my dearest friends, (we’ll call her Cinderella for blogosphere purposes) regarding what music I listen to when I run. I’m going to list 3 of my favorite playlists here, then start a dropdown menu for quick reference purposes. I have literally hundreds of assorted playlists for different moods and different types of runs, but here’s a few to get you started, Cinderella 🙂

The “Zone Out on a Bad Day” Playlist:
(note: this one gets used a lot on maintenance run days, turn on, tune out, enjoy the Zen-like bliss I get when I hit my stride)

The “I Have No Idea What I Want To Listen To” Playlist
(note: this one is my fallback on hill run days – the combination of dubstep, rap and alternative music keeps things upbeat and makes me feel like a badass)

The “Rock It Out” Playlist
(note: this one is my favorite for long runs – good balance of high energy tracks to get me moving, slower alternative rock for the slower miles, and a few angrier tunes for when the going gets tough)

On that note, I’m off to go and get my Kijiji on. I have another post in the works, you can expect that a little later on. Until then,

Wallace, out.

“Gotta get it through my big head/
I was so close to being dead/
Yeah life live it and nobody self-trips/
Man I’m just walking without being led/
See the world is so crazy and filled with such risk/
And I just know I gotta pass them/
The beginnings are followed by an end/
In the in-between time I’m not running or hiding/
See things do come around/
And make sense eventually/
Things do come around/
But some things trouble me/
The people I’ve met and the places I’ve been/
Are all what make me the man I so proudly am/
But I want to know one thing/
When did I become a ghost?/
I’m most confused about the world I live in/
To think that I’m lonely well I probably am/
One thing that still gets me/
When did I become a ghost/
Tried to fight it/
But soon I gave in/
Down the road with no lights on/
When you can’t describe it/
And you don’t move like them/
You become their worst nightmare/
You remember the things that your parents have said and/
Rather find out the hard way/
You should tell a friend to tell a friend to tell a friend/
I keep with my stroll I’m not running or hiding/”
(“Ghost” – Kid Cudi)
________________________________________

First of all, if you aren’t familiar with Kid Cudi, I Highly recommend that you do some YouTubing ASAFP. Scott Mescudi, you ROCK, and seriously have a song for every single damn mood I ever find myself in. Definitely indulged in more than a few Cudder anthems this evening (if you aren’t familiar, I also highly recommend “The Prayer,” “Erase Me,” and “Heart of a Lion”). </fangirl>

Anyways. It’s been a quiet day, from the outside looking in. Woke up at 11:30 am and stayed in bed until 3:00 pm reading (today’s choice, “The Book of Longing” – Leonard Cohen). It’s COLD here, so it was the perfect kind of day to stay snug and warm with some beautiful words from one of my favorite poets. When my caffeine headache overpowered my comfy state, I bundled up in my favorite hoodie and my slippers and came downstairs (oh my DOMS it took a while, yesterday’s workout officially kicked my ass) to make a strong pot of coffee and to spend some time with the roomies. Accomplished both missions, had some well-needed laughs with my two favorite family members, and reveled in a half-pot o’Joe and a few cigarettes. At 4:30pm, I finally felt ready to go chase my Om and fully give myself over to a very much needed Yoga day. Made it down to the Pit, and worked my way through Surya Namaskara until my muscles finally loosened up and warmed, then through some deeper postures, then enjoyed some meditation (did this to some beautiful Tallis, Bach, and Chopin today; when you have roommates, I highly recommend finding stillness through classical music. Always, always heightens my experience when absaolute silence is out of the question). Came upstairs, bundled the fuck up, then headed to Shoppers with Sarge to pick up some online shopping goodies that made it my way in record time (thank you, Canada Post). Made it home, showered, made some noms…On the whole, outside looking in, totally boring Mia-style day. And I thoroughly enjoyed it being exactly that.

Internally; however, it has been a somewhat crazy kind of day. I caught myself legitimately scared a few times today, a week ago I was in recovery-mode after my first legitimate flashback (see “Flashbacks On Friday Make Me Want To Hit Fast Forward” for details on that adventure) and I can’t lie–following my friend’s passing and a very up-and-down week on the emotion front, I was somewhat anticipating a repeat. I am elated that this was not the case; however, I’d be flat-out lying if I told y’all that there isn’t a hell of a fucking lot on my mind this evening (technically very early morning, but hell, I haven’t slept yet).

I wish I didn’t have a past sometimes; that I could hit “erase” on the past 22 years up until I moved to Oromocto and started dating Vega and making sense of my existence. On the flip side of that coin, I can’t help but feel a little bit more than grateful for all the bullshit I’ve been through up to this point because it’s made me exactly who I am right now, and I’m starting to really like this woman I’ve become. Go make yourselves a cuppa. I have some brain stew to ladle out this evening. And Vega, my love, I’m apologizing in advance. I have to get some things off of my chest and I have a feeling they won’t be easy for you to read about.

During my meditation this afternoon, I found it exceedingly difficult to drop the unsettled feeling, the aforementioned fear over another PTSD style breakdown (actually, I’m wondering if I’m not legitimately suffering from some mild PTSD after what Sunshine put me through..more on that in a bit), and it took me what felt like an eternity to finally reach a point of mental stillness. When I brought myself out of the meditative bliss I’d managed to find, I could not shake a seriously weird vibe; I wasn’t sad or mad or anything, really. I just, all of a sudden had the past five years on my mind–but, for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel overwhelmed or scared to be thinking about it all. I just felt still. Peaceful. I think I may actually be to the point of getting over some of it, and that in and of itself is overwhelming.

The first thing I found myself thinking about was the whole fallout situation with my parents. I’ve definitely been through the various unpleasantries of grief over it; and for the first time, I believe I’m nearing acceptance. I accept that they’ll never be the part of my life that I wish they would have been, I accept that they have done and said things I wish they wouldn’t have (don’t get me wrong, I have said and done some unfair things too; however, it was always out of being provoked, and I have since apologized for the transgressions I have committed), and I accept that I’ll never be any less than the black sheep in their eyes. But you know what? I’m ok with it. I’m ok with it all. I’m past putting anymore of myself, my time, my effort, my love, my everything–into two people who genuinely want nothing of who I truly am besides a scapegoat and a whipping post. That isn’t to say that I won’t always love them, because I do and I will. They’re responsible for bringing me into this world, for instilling some good values into me and for making me a bibliophile who loves to travel. Above and beyond that, they’re nobodies to me. Sorry mom and dad. You don’t even have the capacity to hurt my feelings anymore. I’m simply done.

From there, I found myself musing about the relationship I had with the KFP. Him and I were like Sid and Nancy; two broken souls who were probably worse off together than we ever would have been apart. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all for the worst (at least, not for me), even the lifestyle he introduced me to and the club ties he’s responsible for me now having are things I’m truly not in the least ungrateful for. When he met me, I saw a much diminished person in myself. I thought that I was weak and not in the least a force to be reckoned with, and through moving up in the ranks of both the club and life, I did learn a huge amount of strength (physical (boxing, jiu-jitsu, general ass-kickery) and mental), and I gained a huge amount of self-respect in seeing how well-respected I ended up both in the club (I’m a smart girl, and smart is key in that lifestyle. The dumb ones? They end up in Bowden.), and in the tiny city I lived in before I moved back to Calgary (both for the wrong reasons (everybody in the scene was my customer. Not even close to kidding.) and the right ones (I worked at a HUGE out of school program, and knew basically every parent in the city with a school aged child. Loved that job, and I met some amazing people working it; also, working in the bar scene down there meant that I knew the whole university crowd and all of the bar-hopping crazies)). He and I were just doomed from the start, and I suppose that I get somewhat sad realizing that I was simply too naive to realize it at the time. I ruined my credit for him, ended up with some now-shady parts to add to my tale, and tried way too many illicit substances when we were partying hard. But again; where I had become used to being in the throes of grief, I’ve now found acceptance. I am no longer ashamed or sad or mad about that part of my life. I’m grateful. I’m happy that I left when I did and learned what I did and moved the fuck on. As far as I know, he’s still rolling in the deep end and I wish him well; however, will never, ever make a visit to tell him any of this (behind glass, is likely how it would go anyways..and I don’t do jail visits anymore).

Natch, Sunshine invaded my thoughts next. I wish I could say that I’ve reached acceptance here. Honestly? I’m ANGRY. I’m furious at the bastard. He was supposed to be somebody so fucking different from who the hell he turned out to be; and what hurts the most, is the fact that I lost not only an old flame (ha! not really funny though, at least when you know the whole story there. He made me phobic about being burned…) but an old friend in Sunshine. I’d known him since high school. When we started dating, he was (in my eyes) a total turnaround from the KFP. He was my age (not close to a decade older), not a club member (just had a soft spot for rap music and a tendency towards “wigger”), and still lived at home with his Ma (whom I used to adore). Things were alright with him, never great. I tried really hard to make them great. I really did. Eventually, I saw that it was all wasted effort. I gave up. He probably didn’t even notice (and if he did, he hid it exceptionally well). The one thing that was a constant was his need to “one-up” me in the hard-persona department. I don’t need to ACT hard; unfortunately, I just kinda am. It’s what happens to a person when they do what I have done. His jealousy over my truth and his daydream eventually led him to do some truly horrific things to me, and it culminates with me sitting here, literally scarred for life. I am hurt emotionally over this still, and I’m pretty sure I’ll have nightmares fof the rest of my life. No, Sunshine. You are not a gangster. But you legitimately terrify me more than any of the OGs I do personally know. And I HATE you for it; you worthless, alcoholic, piece of shit Mama’s boy. Fuck you, fuck Woof (actually, I have no interest in fucking either of you, so go ahead and fuck each other), and FUCK the scars I now carry. I ended up stronger because of you, and from what I hear, you’re still unemployed, and you’re the running joke in your circle of friends. I don’t miss you. Not. One. Bit.

Finally, I find myself sitting here, 5:00 am, wide the fuck awake with my mind wrapped around the memory of my friend who most recently passed (not even a week’s gone by…it feels like I seen him yesterday when the reality is, I last saw him on the worst night of my life, and he exited this life with me still owing him a beer. I will regret not going out for a pint with him before I left the 403 for the rest of my days), and how glad I am that my life FINALLY has definition. If I hadn’t changed everything, I’d still be undefined, up for anything and standing for nothing.

Since moving to the 506, everything is finally making more sense than I ever tought my life could. Sarge truly did give me a chance at a fresh start, and I’m so unbelievably proud of myself of having grabbed my (proverbial!!) cajones and jumping on the chance. A month has gone by, and my life makes sense. It has meaning and purpose. Since Vega and I fell in love, I’ve stopped feeling like my life would never amount to more than an uphill battle. He actually sees in me what I see in myself, and it’s about time that I allow myself to realize that I am who I see in myself; that the woman he loves does exist and is learning to shine through the layers of past facades that I am pulling away.

We actually had a conversation earlier this evening about how both of us feel like we’re “done” with that part of our respective lives. As bibliophiles, I think the best way for me to explain it (and this isn’t on Vega’s behalf; he is more than intelligent and capable of phrasing this himself, however I believe the sentiment is mutual) is that I feel like I was a background character in the prior novel of my life; that moving to Oromocto and life up until 7:05 pm this upcoming Friday is the preface to Volume II, and that I’ve taken the role as main character in this book. And I’m getting tired of biding my time, I want him here now. My whole life has been leading up to this very stage in time, where I can finally grab him and run with the overwhelming positivity and ceaseless adventures that await us on the horizon. I am literally brimming with excitement, and I am beyond thrilled to have found my counterpart in life. He is home, to me. And I can’t even begin to tell you how lucky I feel to be excited about my future (despite the weekend and 4.75 days I have to get through DYING OF ANTICIPATION still) for the first time…well, ever. I am excited about it ALL; from the simple pleasures of holding his hand, of cooking delicious meals for us to enjoy together, falling asleep with my head on his chest and waking up in his arms, to the crazy adventures I know we’ll end up on, to seeing where the future will have us land (and, of course, the amazing sex that I know lies ahead…). Forever seems like it won’t be long enough. But at this point, I am just ready for it to begin.

It has been an unbelievably crazy journey so far, this life. I don’t know why I’m in such a pensive, introspective mood this evening, but I’m seriously glad I decided to sit down and write it out. I try to talk about it, but I always seem to lose people. It frustrates me; how I never seem to be able to get through verbally telling my story, when I am fascinated by the tales others have to tell. I think that’s in large part why I’m so shocked at the success my wee blog has had thus far–perhaps, I just suck at talking. Perhaps, it’s moreso that it’s just easier to swallow my story as just that–a story, and removing the girl that some of my readers do personally know, replacing her with a pseudonym, makes it easier to fathom.

Whatever it is, I’m beyond comfortable looking back and finally telling my side of the story. It’s icing on my cake (that I can’t eat…must find paleo-friendly cake making recipe) that in finding this outlet, I’m also finding success in a life-long goal–which is, becoming a published author, making a sustainable living writing. There is no feeling better than knowing that this silly little blog of mine is garnering attention, and I appreciate every single one of you, dearest readers, for being a part of this (what I hope will be a long and beautiful) beginning to my dream career. When I sit down to write these days, the words flow more freely in knowing that I am talking not only to my damn self, but to each and every one of you.

I am still fucking WIRED. It’s way too early to continue on with this rambly (probably super ridiculous, but it’s my blog and I’ll ramble if I want to!) post; however, there is an unbelievably handsome man who is distracting me from 4 provinces away, and I have a date with my bed and some “Parks & Recreation” on Netflix (fucking superb show, highly recommended), so I’m cutting this one off here, pets.

Once again, thanks for reading. And I promise, as always, that there will be more when there is more to be said.

For now,

Wallace, out.

|Eloquence is Bliss|

…You don't know the facts, until you've seen the fiction.

Tag Archives: kid cudi

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“See/ Things do come around/ And make sense/ Eventually…” (Or, “Thoughts on a snowy night over double bergamot earl grey”)