Friday 30 April 2010

Notes from nomads.

Good morning.

The only headlines you need to know this morning are that Rob Zombie is on his way here and that Gabriel Aubrey is single again.

There are not enough hours in the day for this princess, let me tell you.

More later, I have things to do but hey, thanks for the coffee!

Edited to add: I think Twitter will be where it's at for the next five days or so, we're moving into the house and everything should be hooked up and rolling by mid next week. Follow me and you can follow along.

It's worth it for this: http://splashpage.mtv.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/thor1.jpg

Damn. I love a man in armor.

You're welcome. Wish me luck.

Thursday 29 April 2010

Living reflection from a dream.

This afternoon I have resorted to snorting coffee off the table in rows and pinching myself until I yelp involuntarily just to stay awake. Not sure if it's the anxiety that makes me want to curl up and sleep or the exhaustion of this adventure. Either way when I do finally lie down beside Ben late at night my eyes blow open like the doors on the fire station after five alarms and I remain like that, watching the city, for hours until eventually they close. Usually against the sun because it's very bright first thing in the morning.

Tonight is our last night in the city-proper and maybe that will help. Maybe it's the loveliness of the view. Maybe it's the noise. Maybe traffic. Construction. Density. Hell, maybe it's the fumes from the seven dozen different Starbucks and Blenz stores that dot the downtown like raindrops.

I should maybe switch to tea but Jake tried that already and all I did was sip it like a proper lady and every single time I would ask him if it was supposed to taste all canny and weird and hot-watery like this and he would sigh and offer me milk and sugar and I'd wrinkle up my nose until it was halfway up my face and point out that the last thing a hardcore princess needs is sugar. Or milk for that matter.

Pffft.

I have pulled our things together and what a nightmare. Fourteen pieces of luggage because there are seven of us. Some are small pieces like backpacks and some are very large and heavy rolling hockey bags and I'm a little concerned now that it won't fit in my car but really we'll figure it out. Not like it all needs to fit in the trunk of a taxi to go to the airport in a hurry. I foresee an hour or two tomorrow in which we simply heave and squish the bags into different combinations to see what works. I foresee a very uncomfortable ride out into the mountains.

I'm rather glad I didn't embark on the crazy shopping trips I was offered. And I'm glad I deferred when we stopped at IKEA (three times) because really we travel incredibly light for a month on the road stretched across three seasons and four provinces, pets included.

So kiss my ass because everyone else offered this adventure basically said no, because it seems impossible so it must be.

It isn't.

You just need to be adventurous and step outside of your comfort zone and trust me, if I can do that, anyone can. In fact, I grew tired and wandered away from my old comfort zone in error and never found the darned thing again but Ben here, well, he promised he would just build me a new one.

And I'm holding him to that.

I'm also holding him to the promises that yes, all this shit will fit in the car and that someday I definitely will sleep. And maybe even breathe. Which means it must be a custom-fit comfort zone complete with nerve gas piped in.

I hope it has a coffee maker.

And a bed.

And a bowl of tangerines.

Wednesday 28 April 2010

Overwhelmed as one would be, placed in my position.

My birthday present this year.

TOOL.

In concert.

This July.

Live. So that Bridget can hear them with her own broken ears.

Oh my GOD.

And I thought waking up to the news that they've possibly found Noah's Ark was pretty amazing.

Tuesday 27 April 2010

"Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before." ~Mae West

Driven by the strangle of vain
Showing no mercy, I'll do it again
Open up your eyes
You keep on crying, baby I'll bleed you dry
Skies are beneath me
I see a storm bubbling up from the sea

And it's coming closer
And it's coming closer

You shock my bones,
Leaving me stranded all in love on my own
What do you think of me?
Where am I now, baby where do I sleep?
Feels so good when I'm home
2000 years of chasing taking its toll
I'm not really listening. I'm playing music in my head while I try to quiet the waves of frustration and fear rolling through my brain. It's not working, nothing is working and I'm forced to drop back into the present, into my chair in the flames in front of Caleb while he paces back and forth in front of me, annoyed that I interrupted his plans with family business.

Have you asked him how he feels?

He's feeding me your answers. Too much time with you. I don't like it.

John is well compensated for his loyalty.

That's how you buy company, isn't it, Cale?

You tell me, princess. Tell them how much you cost me.

Going after the rest of my friends isn't above you, is it?

He's very valuable to me. I enjoy having someone I can trust around.

Do you have to make this so complicated?


Yes, I do, Bridget. Things have changed. I have to position myself so that things like Jacob are never allowed to happen again.

Excuse me?

Jacob prevented me from spending any time with you or with the children. That can't be allowed to be repeated.

You killed him.

I beg your pardon.

You did something or said something to Jake. I don't know. You did something to him and then he was gone. What did you do to him?

Bridget, I think you need some rest.

Give me my friends back.

(Hysterical edge on that one. Whoops. Calm down. Breathe. Fail. Stand up. Be ready to run.)

You wanted a way to keep from having to watch them leave all the time and we found a way to accomplish that. And now you want something else. I can almost see why Lochlan is perpetually frustrated by you. You're never happy with anything even after we bend over backwards to try to please you.

I like the way you lump yourself in with them.

Why wouldn't I?

Because I'm the one always bending to please you and it's never good enough and you always want more.

Perhaps it's a family trait.

I'm not your family.

I wish you wouldn't say things like that.

You promised you would leave them alone in exchange for me.

And I DON'T HAVE YOU, DO I?

He bellowed it at me, right in my face and I shrank back and stumbled over the edge of the chair and sat down with a thump. Almost on the floor but not quite.

You have too much. Too much say. Too much power. Too much control.

And it's the only thing that keeps you in line.

It's a steel fairy tale, motherfucker. It isn't real and I hate you.

Oh. I love it when you mix trash with treasure.

Call Mike back. Then you can be creepy times two. John isn't going to be your puppet any more than Ben or PJ.

Then tell me something, Bridget.

What?

Who will you give up? Because I find this very interesting.

It isn't. I just protect my friends.

There's a very fine line here, princess and I think we both know you're playing a game without knowing all of the rules.

I'm done here, Cale. Goodnight.

He grabbed my arm as I stood up to pass him, squeezing it hard.

Sit down, Bridget.

I shook my arm but he didn't let go. He turned to stone and I cried out.

Let go. Fuck!

Everything continues as it has. No changes.

He pulled me in until we were eye to eye and I could let the rest of his face melt away, focusing on his eyes, pulling the shades up one after another until they were the medium shade of blue, somewhere in between Caleb and Jacob's blue eyes. Regular blue like Cole's with the long black eyelashes. Kind eyes suddenly, softened by proximity, blurred with fatigue, flashing resentment and undisguised want.

Bridget, are you listening?

Yes.
(No, fucker, I'm not. DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE.)

You can surround yourself with as many friends and as much money as you can possibly find and I will still control you. Do you get that? Ben can't save you and neither can Batman. Do you understand me?

Yes. (At a loss here suddenly as the fear comes back and I start fumbling around in the dark, feeling for something in particular.)

Now we're done, Br-

I abruptly found the volume knob in my head and turned it up loud. I didn't want to hear anymore.

Monday 26 April 2010

Heading to a family meeting. Just one thing.

When are you gonna come down
When are you going to land
I should have stayed on the farm
I should have listened to my old man

You know you can't hold me forever
I didn't sign up with you
I'm not a present for your friends to open
This boy's too young to be singing the blues
I hope the tooth fairy finds Henry tonight. He's not in his own bed. We're in transition you see, so we took the extra step of leaving the tooth in a mug on the counter with a note just in case she's not on her game. I think she will be though. She's pretty good about these things.

Ben and I are playing Youtube trivia (Elton John included) and I'm biting my tongue not to point out that Jackson Browne's Running on Empty is a little too close in style to Say you Love Me by Fleetwood Mac.

I don't know how. It just does. They're both good though. 8-track goodness indeed. The tooth fairy will probably skip us on account of how far down we can drag the coolness quotient in the room.

We'll work on it. I swear. Later. Meeting time.

Sunday 25 April 2010

Torment, heretofore.

Ani ohev otakh.
Productive weekend. Managed to secure invites to three separate parties this afternoon and tonight I drove us back downtown from the new house, an hour outside the city, vaguely grey-knuckled and tense, seeing nothing but the lane in front of me because that's how I drive. Ask me to look at something and I'll veer right out of my lane and into a forbidden one. I requested the radio be on and was denied. Poor Ben rarely gets a chance to witness my driving skills or see the extent to which I blast music while I try and remember where it was that I was supposed to be going before I forgot.

I'm going to be a scathing riot in my Alzheimer years. Coupled with the narcolepsy I can see why I'm so popular now. (While she's coherent.) Eventually I'll fall asleep somewhere inconvenient and they'll just leave me there, propped against a large flowerpot and when I wake up I'll have forgotten where I belong and simply wander away into the ether. I'm not sure if that prospect is a comfort or a curse but it seems to be the only clear eventuality in a life where nothing can ever be nailed down, pinkie-sworn or planned too far in advance.

I'm running on noxious fumes at this point. Carbon monoxide and poisonous dreams lead to a hazy kind of tolerance and capability, floating just above the level of breathable panic, classed as on-alert without having to take ones feet off the chair to go investigate. Ready for anything, prepared for nothing, assume the worst, be grateful for the best and not budge an inch. The first things to go are grace, generosity and patience and they left in a hurry, forgetting important things like nice pens and monogrammed umbrellas.

The city is honking and blowing up like gangbusters here. Our team won! It's wonderful. It's warm, we're in shirts and sweaters. This morning I took the early chore of puppy walk and we ventured down to the water once again to smell the sea weed and greet the herons who are not afraid of me or the dog anymore. We have become fixtures, like statues, frozen, asleep, forgotten, forgetful.

Peaceful.

The confidence boost of a working machine loaded with fresh words, some pretty new things to replace old tired dresses that the boys are weary of seeing me in and some plans for a little fun ahead plus the achievement of driving far and driving early, home into the twilight sun, from the mountains into the glass and concrete jungle when I had planned to possibly navigate a drive around my new neighborhood around two weeks from now possibly a few blocks if I had a decent map, have given me a little tiny measure of oxygen to breathe to keep me going through the next tough part.

Closing costs. More lawyers. More appointments. More walks to the water and drives to the mansion. More kisses from Ben and cookies stolen by Henry. More pictures drawn by and taken of Ruth. More hockey. More sunshine. More waiting as we hope for a moving truck on time and a key for the mailbox. Which isn't anywhere near the house on the hill, perched above the water. Unreachable, untouchable, cold. More isolated than I expected, more comfort than I assumed.

More Bridget. Renewable resource. Thought I was done for at last, turns out I am not. Not quite anyway.

Saturday 24 April 2010

Hello Steve.

Hi! Hi! Hi! Bridget's very excited tonight. Why?

Macbook Pro.

Goodbye windows (Jesus, just get the fuck out, I'm so done with you), goodbye cheap disposable laptops. As soon as I can figure out how to stop hitting caps lock and how to make the system font a little bigger for my tired eyes I'll be all set. Kind of like a new three-thousand-dollar typewriter ribbon makes everything clear as day.

Ben keeps talking about time machines and command keyboard shortcuts. I'm all just like "But how LOUD does it get?"

Because really, that's why I bought my car. Because there are sub woofers UNDER the front seats so you can feel the music. And now I have it in my fingertips.

And actually I didn't spend any money and this isn't a new Macbook. Ben got a new one and I was gifted his old one and that was really convenient, I think. I was just pretty much done with my old machine and he wanted the guts from the new rollout and a little more screen real estate. He's a big guy. He needs space.

I just needed something that works without a timer ticking in the background, rushing me over words, falling, stumbling, stuttering to the point where it was becoming a chore instead of a pleasure, knowing if I was very lucky I might get ten months out of my purchase.

And woah.

Ben just fixed something. He said he would never do it (I was supposed to fix my own problems and he would just be here but you know what? I spent the entire winter fixing everything and I am done) and so he did it. Thank you honey. And thank you too, Steve for saving me from Bill and his stupid Windows 7 upgrade. I think that pretty much finished me off.
I'm coming up only to hold you under
I'm coming up only to show you wrong
And to know you is hard; we wonder
To know you all wrong; we warn.

Really too late to call,
So we wait for morning to wake you
That's all we got
And to know me as hardly golden
Is to know me all wrong, they warn.

At every occasion, I'll be ready for the funeral

Friday 23 April 2010

Madness mollified.

Last last night Ben dug out the hard drive that I protected with my life on the trip here. It contains the music. All of it. What could ever be more important that that?

I fired it up this afternoon.

And I've been relaxed ever since. It soothes. It fixes everything. It makes my brain orderly and quiet. And now the words are bursting at the seams, I am wiggling in my chair and everything feels a thousand pounds lighter.

Don't diagnose me, I'm just saying.

I AM NOT THE DIFFICULT ONE.

Snort.

(Now is not the time to point out that I have my Blackberry loaded up and headphones at the ready. It isn't the same. Not by a long shot.)

Ears burning/no flames.

She paints her eyes as black as night, now
Pulls those shades down tight
Yeah, she gives a smile when the pain comes,
The pain's gonna make everything alright

Says she talks to angels,
They call her out by her name
She talks to angels,
Says they call her out by her name

She keeps a lock of hair in her pocket
She wears a cross around her neck
Yes, the hair is from a little boy
And the cross is someone she has not met, not yet
Familiar places and feelings. Rough warmth. He slid his slowly lips down along my earlobe, tracing my skin, pulling my hair away and continuing until he ended the kiss in the hollow of my throat. His hands went around my hips, making a path of bruises he could follow home. He sighed and we fell into easy actions. I ran my hands over his skin. I always feel as if I can touch his emotions through his skin. He is all fire and passion, determination and quiet rage.

I fell asleep sometime between five and seven, tangled in sheets of pure silver, eyes closing in spite of the sun rising in front of me over the water.

I woke up to an empty room. I got up and wrapped the sheet around me and ventured into the hall and further, making a circuit of the entire loft and there was no one there. I frowned and went back to bed.

No, really. I did.

I'll wait. Someone will come back. They always come back. Bridget needs coffee. Bridget needs reassurance. Bridget needs something to wear.

I checked my phone for messages and the usual morning greetings from PJ and Lochlan were there. Fifteen texts from Caleb that I'll never read. I put the phone back down and I must have drifted off again because there was a gentle knock at the door and I answered abruptly, startled. Ben doesn't knock. What the fuck.

Who's there?

The door opened and Batman just walks right into my life after another long absence.

Hello Bridget, I brought you some coffee.

I thought you were a dream!

No, not a dream, maybe just a quick vision though. I have a plane to catch.

I'm glad you came though.

Me too.

I took the coffee he held out and suffered a rare moment of self-consciousness suddenly, tucking the sheet more snugly around my torso, lifting my chin in some outward effort to remain dignified in spite of the fact that I still had no clothes.

He laughed and held out a shopping bag.

PJ sent these along for you.

I took the bag and looked inside. Jeans. Plaid shirt. Hairbrush. Ballet flats. God bless PJ for having the brains I don't.

Another knock brought Ben back into the room with a wrapped warm croissant. Because Bridget needs coffee and also sugar for her thin blood. I took it and ate it in four bites. I'm still licking my fingers when Batman smiles and says it's time for him to go. Probably because Bridget has no shame. Same thing that would have brought him here in the first place.

What in the hell were you thinking about just now?

How beautiful you are, and how lucky this assclown is.

Mmm. He brings me breakfast. He gets all my love.

Something in his eyes changed and he repeated himself.

I brought you coffee.


The visit was over. Stinging. Wish he would stay too.

Thank you. For everything.

You have my new number?

Do I? Is it in my phone?

Yes.

Then yes, I have it.

He laughed again, formally this time and I got a kiss on the ear and a flash of memory again and then he and Ben left, ostensibly to talk about hockey and music and money on the way to the airport. I took another sip of coffee and then picked up my phone. He actually put it in my contacts under Batman. With a happy face.

I laughed. I'll only see him if something goes wrong again and even then, I am never the one who calls him. He calls me and all I have to do is not answer the correct way and he is on a plane or fixing things remotely. It's a power I have never abused on purpose and the boys have never questioned even once.

Ever.

That kind of power puts Satan to shame. And he knows it. You should see the messages from HIM in my phone. He wanted investors, I brought him the only investor he'll ever require. Speaking of electronics bursting into flames. Blackberry on ice today, just in case so no emails. I'm not even going to grace you with my attention today so keep your indignation to yourself.