One For The Books

Hello dear readers,

Happy Saturday to you all! Hopefully, you got out and enjoyed your days – it was a beautiful one here in the 250 – hot and humid and sunny as all hell, just the way I like it!

I had a fucking HELL of a time falling asleep last night. I think I came down off the shock of hearing about my friend’s passing and started feeling it after my (supposedly) bedtime bowl, so after kissing Vega goodnight, I sat on the couch for a few hours, television on but not paying attention, Visa cuddled up on my lap. For the first time in months I just let myself cry and it was a total out of body experience, sitting there still and numb and sad and broken and feeling it. Really feeling it, the weight of it, of past mistakes and transgressions, of mistakes made and friends laid to rest, of enemies and drugs, of Harleys and Hell, beatings both verbal and physical. I have lived a life that has made me cold; however, I think I’m starting to truly thaw in the warmth of the promise of a future I never dreamed would be mine. I cried, and I laughed, and I remembered…and then I let a lot of it go. Don’t get me wrong, it’s never gone, but there comes a time when you really have to accept the past and put it back in its place; that is, as a guiding light to remind you who you are, who you were, and where you want to be.

Anyways, the point of it all is that I’d be a liar if I told you that I’m over my friend’s death, because I’m not. I’m sad, I’m angry, and I’m grieving; however, I’m happy to be alive, to be free, to be happy and healthy and loved. My friend’s death is not in vain – she’ll forever inspire me to enjoy every minute that much more. Life is fleeting, and I feel that we all take that for granted too much and too often. Live, truly live, and be grateful that you’re alive and can do so.

I fell asleep at like 5:30 in the morning, and I had the craziest happiest dreams. When I rolled over this morning and saw the love of my life next to me everything made perfect sense, and I snuggled up next to him after hitting the snooze button with a grin on my lips and an elevated heartrate. I am the luckiest woman alive. Vega STILL gives me butterflies (and I have a feeling that he always will).

We finally got out of bed around 1:00, had a cup of coffee and a few cigarettes, then I showered and got dressed (in some amazingly obnoxious fluorescent pink jeans) and had a rip and a smoke before heading off to the Westrock Tattoo Convention in Saanich. We got there and were both giddy as could be, artist shopping and portfolio ogling. I managed to get my shitty old prison-style tatt fixed up by the wonderful mister Mike from Incendiary Tattoos (they’re in Esquimalt, and if you’re looking for trad, Mike’s your guy) for a nominal fee. Of course, we knew some of the same folks, and had a good laugh while I was getting touched up. Aside: real tattoo machines hurt a fuck ton less than Bic pens with jury-rigged motors do. Anyways. Vega also found an unbelievably talented artist who is in the running for the prestige of tattooing a large portion of my handsome man, and it was overall a great expo full of wonderful art, lots of inspiration, and some serious talent. Big ups.

Madchild also performed this evening, which was a MAJOR highlight of the day for this girl. Special guest Slain from La Coka Nostra tore up the stage as well as Ad Lib; however, Mad killed it. Like, slaughtered it. The crowd was small and mostly tweenies, I got waved up to the front of the stage via security (after a knowing little nod was passed forth from the ill villain) and got a handshake, a wink, and a smile before my favorite track off the album was played. You guys, “It Gets Better” almost brought me to tears this evening – the entirety of this year has been a turning point for me; however, that was a lynchpin kind of moment. It DOES get better, it really does. Plus, it’s kind of fun having enough cred to have security put you front and (slightly off-)center. There are few perks to the lifestyle I used to lead, and I don’t mind a little VIP treatment here and there as  fallout. Hah.

Now, we’re at home and relaxing – Vega is cooking us up some steaks and yam fries (which smell AMAZING, by the by), I kind of want to hit the bong (scratch that, I will be hitting the bong), and though I still feel kind of messy and sad and down, I also feel at peace.

I am truly, deeply, seriously grateful for how my life turned out. And no, I’m not trying to “be a martyr,” as my mom would claim; however, I’m happy that I carry the weight of it all with me everywhere I go. I don’t think I’d get as much unbridled joy and appreciation out of things now if it weren’t for the shit I put myself through back then.

Anywhore. This post is becoming too personal and circular and I think it’s high time (ha!) that I take my introspective bullshit outside and mull it over while I float away on strange clouds.

For now,

Wallace, out.

Much Awaited (and long overdue) Catch-Up On The Mia-verse! (or, “Sorry I’ve Been Terrible At Blogging Lately!”)

Hello dear readers!
Have you missed me yet? I’ve missed y’all! The blog stats are through the goddamn roof this month so far (as of 8:25pm PST, we’re looking at 6,554 unique visitors, 240 comments, and a whole schwack of shares on Reddit, Pinterest and Twitter), and I’d like to take a minute to say a huge THANK YOUto every single one of you who take the time out of your day to read my ramblings. It truly means the world to me, and I’m so excited that if the metrics stay where they lie now, we should hit 10,000 visitors by the first EIB-anniversary! You guys rock my fuckin’ world, seriously.

Seriously, y’all. Thank you so much. ❤

Alrighty, so. Update on my life. So much has happened lately that I barely know where to start! I suppose where I left off would be a good place, no? Freelancing, that’s where I was at. I was ghostwriting a bunch of (rather uninteresting) articles while I was hunting for a job, and that was good practice for a professional writer, let me tell you. It also kept my sanity (somewhat) intact while I underwent the seemingly fruitless and hugely frustrating task of hunting for a job for the first time in a year in a new city. Whoever said that looking for a job is a fulltime job in and of itself was painfully correct. Anywhore, it was a semi-frustrating, semi-badass couple of days writing for 12 hours straight about automotive insurance and pallet racking systems…can’t say that I wrote anything I’m spectacularly proud of; however, I can now officially say that I’ve been paid to write. One step closer to the dream, right? One day. One day I will be an author. At this point, I don’t even care how long it takes; but, that’s a tangent for another day.

This is basically how it feels to have 10,000 words to write within an eight hour window, encapsulated nicely in a hilarious gif for your enjoyment.

Where was I again? my brain is just everywhere today. OH YEAH – job hunting. So, can’t lie, this whole finding employment after not having had to have done so for a year was intimidating, frustrating, and pretty much awful. That said, I did find a job – a mighty sweet job – completely by fluke. I’d stopped into a coffee shop in Chinatown on one of my (many, many, many) “let’s hand out 50 resumes today and see where we get” adventures, and offhandedly left one with the barista after downing my quad short Americano. Lo and behold, the very day I had decided to just give the fuck up, they called me in for an interview! I got the job (woo!), have now passed my probation (WOO!), am learning to use the espresso machine (Woohoo!), and have received my first raise (WOOHOO!). It’s a great little joint in a super eclectic and interesting part of the city, my coworkers are radballs, and I’m officially worth something (monetary, anyways) once again! Such a relief! It’s also 2/3 of the reason why I’ve been failing to update here – it’s been busy. But, I’m working on it, and slowly (but surely) my schedule is once again falling into place. Life is (once again) falling into place. And my habit of using superfluous parentheses is still intact.

Basically how I feel about things right meow.

Also exciting, my passport finally arrived! I am so unbelievably fucking stoked about this I can’t even. Literally everything about the acquisition of said documentation was stressful as all hell – from getting my documents back from my parents, to the fact that I waited until the trip was 8 weeks away, to the seemingly endless waiting game…BUT – it all worked out, I am passport-clad until 2023, and I must say that my photo is rather spectacular (I  look skinny, my hair is rad, and I don’t have my convict face rockin’). I feel so free having this in my hands it is insane! As somebody who used to mean the world to me used to say, “if you do what you’re supposed to be doing, things will fall into place.” She was wrong about a lot of things, but that one was on point. Its these things that make life feel right somehow in a way that very little else can – I mean, the day to day of being with Vega, of being in the 250, that much is easy to see. The bigger things take proof these days for me to accept, and I got a big dose of reassurance that I’m on the right path today. Seriously, I’m just fucking thrilled. And I’m all of an hour from Seattle…I see many a roadtrip in mine and Vega’s futures!

While we’re on the subject of Victoria and all that jazz, I thought I’d take a minute to express my utter glee at being an official resident of the 250. It is spectacular living here, and I draw that distinction because although I made many a trek down here during my club days (that’s a story for another day but whatever), I never got to experience the city for all it’s worth. In the past few weeks, Vega and I have:
-gone for a hike to a gorgeous lake with his coworker on a Friday afternoon (where we said hello to Mary Jane and went for a swim)
-seen a floating symphony orchestra perform during sunset on the harbour, which was a magical and beautiful and wonderfully romantic date night
-discovered the most wonderful path to get to the local grocery store, which takes us through a gorgeous forest (and also, multiple blackberry bushes and plum trees)
-seen a metal show at Lucky’s bar (Torrefy, Vesperia, Crimson Shadows, and Unleash the Archers)
-fallen in love with the vibrant, eccentric, lively, and ever-shifting landscape (both the people and the nature)
Basically, we love it here (I shouldn’t speak for Vega but I’m taking the liberty to do so anyways..haha love yoooou!), and I foresee many a happy day spent here for years to come. There’s something to be said for coastal life!

It certainly is more relaxed a pace than that of Oil Rig Town

Hmm, what else to divulge… OH YEAH. So Vega and I are into our third week of a Whole30, and I’m pleased to announce that I’ve definitely lost a couple inches! I miss beer, but that’s okay – I’ll be able to imbibe a little on the 31st for the UFC fights. I’m thinking that watching the fights at the 4-mile might be a good usage of my time and calories for the day haha 🙂 All the same, it’s been a good few weeks of eating right and moving more. That’s the key folks. A calorie’s a calorie, no matter how small. Healthy mentality + healthy food + move more than you consume = weight dropped. I promise I’m not getting all freaky deaky again; however, I also made a pact with myself to be comfortable in my bathing suit by the time we go vacationing in September. Attainable goal, check. Insert minor freakout induced by pending vacation excitement—>here.

Me right now

 

Also in the “things that Mia is way too excited about” category is this upcoming Saturday. Why, you ask? Welp, it turns out that Mddchild is playing at the Victoria Tattoo Expo (tangent: “Lawnmower Man.” Download it. Right the fuck now. SO GOOD!!). And I’m not working. And I’m going to spend the day ogling tattoos, AND SEEING MY FAVORITE FUCKING CANADIAN ARTIST EVER. I have also become privy to the knowledge that the deposit on my tatt with the artist I want will be max $100.00, so we can all safely assume that come November, my sleeve will be done. We can all also safely assume that I am entirely too excited about the coalescence of these two magical and happy-inducing things. Insert overexcitement—>here.

Basically. My first rap concert ever? Swollen Members, 2001. I think I actually love them more now that I’m older. Always been there for my earholes, they have been!

Besides all of that, I believe that’s a fair 1300-odd word summation of where I’m at and where I’ve been lately. Life’s legitimately good, and that’s still super weird. Slowly though, the fog is lifting–the scars of my past (both mental and physical) are beginning to fade, and things are starting to make sense again. I find myself lost in this strange sense of peace – something that my dear friend MJ described in Endure perfectly – “…peace, like I’d never felt before. I understood what the word meant academically, but I’d never felt it like this.” Truer words, never spoken. I used to find solace in the insanity, and I’m learning with every passing day here on the island with my Vega that it is an entirely possible and attainable thing to find the same solace in sanity. Perhaps this is the cusp of the BHAG finally taking hold over the bullshit. To quote Bukowski, “what matters most is how well you walk through the fire,” and I believe I have made my way through Hell relatively unscathed. If 13 year old me could see how 23 year old me turned out, I think she’d be a little bit more than proud.

 

Gratuitous cute:

D’AWWW!!

For now,

Wallace, out.