Strangely Socialised

I really like having my weekends to myself. I think, by nature, I’m a pretty solitary creature. After a week of having to deal with coworkers every day, I kinda like to be on my own for a while. Especially after a week like this one, where I’m a little torn up about something and would like some time to destress.

But no, my cousin’s wedding shower is on Sunday. I only got the invite about a week ago, and thought it was going to be next month or something. Guess I didn’t look close enough; good thing my mom reminded me. So on Sunday afternoon I get to trek out to the other side of the city, to Transcona, by bus, to attend. Which also means that tomorrow I need to hie me out to the store to pick up her gift. I need to go out to Polo Park anyway to pay my deductible at the dentist, so I might as well hit the Canadian Tire there. Until today, I didn’t know that Canadian Tire even had a gift registry. Go figure.

It’s really hard to maintain a friendship when you’re nothing alike, when you only have one thing in common that binds you together. It’s not impossible, but I think it makes for something pretty superficial. Especially when one of the people in the friendship doesn’t cope well with people holding different opinions than her. And has stress management issues. Clearly, I’m facing this situation right now, and I’m not sure what to do about it. I don’t really want to lose the friendship, especially with our group of mutual friends, but it might be the only option. This doesn’t make me particularly happy.

Well, I guess eventually it’ll sort itself out. I’ve done what I can, and i just have to let things lie right now. If she comes to me, then maybe we can work something out. If she doesn’t, then maybe she really isn’t the kind of person I want to be long-term friends with.

I cracked one of the other poetry books I bought this week. Solo Crossing by Meg Campbell. I’m not really as much into this one as I was the last; the imagery doesn’t speak to me as much. I’m really big on both moments that pack a bunch, and moments that speak to my own experience, and this collection really doesn’t seem to have either. Which by no means indicates that it’s bad, it’s just really not for me. However, while flipping through I did find one passage that I particularly liked.

Poems sleep naked between pages of a book
until our eyes rest there.
Reading them, they quickly dress.
but cannot speak except through us.

from Poems Sleep

I also like the titles of many of the poems, very literal but still evocative. Like On Breaking My Pubic Bone and Ribs When My Bike Skidded on Gravel, which amuses me even though it probably shouldn’t.

The episode of Ally McBeal where Billy dies is on. I never watched the show the first time round. In fact, before it premiered, based on the promos, I was betting that it would tank. I’m usually pretty good at calling these things, but I totally missed it on that one. I’ve caught it a few times in reruns though. I do remember when this first aired, because people at work were talking about it. I was upstairs at Intrinsix, talking to Jill, and she was talking about the episode. The same way I remember when a couple of classic Seinfeld episodes aired when I was in high school, even though I hated the show. Memory’s funny sometimes. Also, it’s way too easy to make me cry.

I have one of my new books of poetry/prose out, Snatch by Judy MacInnes Jr. I’m really, really loving this book. Exerpt:

America’s Funniest Home Videos
The toddler is caught.
A bean bag chair sliced open;
guts on the playroom floor.

Her mother, frantic.
The camcorder is dead.

Silly Boo, she snaps, Stay put
til I get the other battery.

Boo waits in an inch of beans,
orange Exacto knife cradled
in her tiny fist.

If it comes down to a choice between spending my last five dollars on discount books, or on lunch, the books will win nine times out of ten. And the tenth time would only be because I hadn’t eaten in a couple days. Books are absolutely my budget downfall; I already have an apartment full of them. Though I’m conscientious enough to only buy them when they’re marked down, way down, unless it’s something that I’ve planned on getting.

There’s a book sale at the mall right now, one of many during the year when the bookstore tries to get rid of old stock and overstock. I would never buy a book of poetry at full price by someone I didn’t know, because I likely wouldn’t enjoy it enough and I just don’t have that kind of money to throw around. If I did, if I wasn’t living hand to mouth, the situation would probably be quite different. However, if it looks interesting and it’s out there at two for a dollar, yeah, I’ll give it a chance. Why not?

So I have about a dozen new books at home right now to look through, mostly poetry though a couple are short fiction and one is just for laughs. That should tide me over for a few night at least. I’ve already come across a couple I’d like to quote, would be quoting if I were at home right now and not at my desk at work. I don’t read poetry as a habit anymore, but there are some amazingly vivid images in what I’ve read.