Laura wrote:

Leonard Cohen for my Dearest Alysia
Just thought i'd write this out b/c even i can't seem to find it anywhere on the web...so here it is Babe!

The Cuckold's Song - written by Leonard Cohen in his book The Spice-box of Earth

If this looks like a poem
I might as well warn you at the beginning
that it's not meant to be one.
I don't want to turn anything into poetry.
I know all about her part in it
but I'm not concerned with that right now,
This is between you and me
Personally I don't give a damn who led who on:
in fact I wonder if I give a damn at all.
But a man's got to say something.
Anyhow you fed her 5 MacKewan Ales,
took her to your room, put the right records on,
and in an hour or two it was done.
I know all about passion and honour
but unfortunately this had really nothing to do with either:
oh there was passion I'm only too sure
and even a little honour
but the important thing was to cuckold Leonard Cohen.
Hell, I might just as well address this to the both of you:
I haven't time to write anything else.
I've got to say my prayers.
I've got to wait by the window.
I repeat: the important thing was to cuckold Leonard Cohen.
I like that line because its got my name in it.
What really makes me sick
is that everything goes on as it went before:
I'm still a sort of friend, I'm still a sort of lover.
But not for long:
that's why I'm telling this to the two of you.
The fact is I'm turning to gold, turning to gold.
It's a long process, they say,
it happens in stages.
This is to inform you that I've already turned to clay.

Thanks, Laura. I stopped the sort of friend bit, you'll be interested to know. And yes, I cried against my kitchen wall, but I woke up heady with a decision that had sat to long waiting to be resolved. The decision hangover was awful, but today I arose with a smile, then a grimace. I grimaced because today was the All Canidate's Meeting, which left me feeling a little overwhelmed. I have little confidence in my own abilities, so I'm quite glad I'm teamed up with such smart people, otherwise I'd get ruled that's for sure. Campaigning is gonna be no fun at all, but it must be done.

I put my values aside for Monster Trucks

So sorry about the lack of posts lately, my tasty friends. Busy busy is the bitch who busts her eggs, which may or may not be me.

So, I went to a Monster Truck rally this past weekend with Marie the Marvelous, Magnificent woMun. (I couldn't make it woMan, cause then it would seem like I was calling Marie a Man and if there is one thing Marie is not, it is a man. She's hot in a WOmanly way. (Yay, alliterations. *geek grin*)) I know that Monster Trucks perpetuate unnecessary destruction as well as the consumer culture that yearns for the bigger, badder gas guzzler, but they run over shite and I get to yell a lot. I need this as an outlet for my white-trash side, which has an incestual relationship with my big loud side. Anyway, the show was super fun yay, but on the ride home I shared my ideas on my winter age. I can't remember what my stance was before, but I often feel the need to play Devil's Advocate, so when Marie said the Winter made her feel old, I decided that Winter made me feel young. In Winter, I'm lithe and young, even though I'm no longer young and lithe at all. All the snow covers the death and I feel like I walk over it. In spring, I feel old and disillusioned. Everything that I thought was dead comes alive again, and the air stinks without the crispy, cutting iron of the winter wind. I hate summers. It's a dripping, drooling, scummy season that leaves a film on everything. There is one thing that I like about Spring, and that's a cool spring breeze. A spring breeze hits and I go *sproing*. It's a tingly, sensual feeling I love. Fall is the perfect season. Things are leaving but they aren't gone yet. In fall, I wear big sweaters without a jacket and kicks are still alright. "Cuddling" is encouraged but not mandatory. I can still keep my fan on for the subtle whirr, but I won't freeze.

Yeah.

I wanted to post Leonard Cohen's The Cuckold Song, but I can't find it on the net, nor have I paid my fine at the library, enabling me to remove books. Later, perhaps. If I still feel the same.

Note to self: Next time you decide to take a course overload, do not decide that you're going to run for the Board of Directors, and run Fr!nge music, and manage the Women's Centre Resources, and start a knitting group, and still stay sane. This is a bad idea. Somethings gotta give, and unfortunately the only thing on that list that's expendible to others is the last one.

Bad News Tuesday.