Under normal circumstances, Abu is not a big cuddler. Sure, she likes her tummy rubbed as much as anyone, but for her to snuggle up next to me is unusual. She's a puppy, after all, she's got places to go, ankles to bite. Which makes this morning unusual. I woke up with her laying up against me where I had passed out on the hide-a-bed. What can I say? She knows. She can taste sadness, and she wreaks of comfort.

I guess I'm just at that age. One by one, the enemy is picking off my friends, and now those damn nazi's have sniped the wrong one. One day when I'm old and my skin is hanging from my skeleton and I live in a home that smells of absorbine jr. I'll look in the obituaries and every day I'll I spot someone I knew. I'll know that I'll never see that person again, and I'll be allowed, expected to be sad.

But I'm not 86 (Lord forbid....) I'm 23. And it's only a matter of time until I'm the last one standing, single and proud, but without anyone to hang out with. Unlike being 86, I'm supposed to be happy, and allow me to clarify..... I am happy but shockingly enough, I am capable of feeling more than one emotion at one time. I'm frustrated by the knowledge that expressing my other (secondary) emotions would be incredibly selfish of me.

So I woke up with tears in my eyes, because I've been here before, and I know that this time it will be harder, because I'm happier and sadder, and I have to say goodbye to someone I never could say goodbye to. Now I'm alone in the house. I wish I wasn't, but my roomie's in florida. So I'm venting my conflicting emotions, hoping that by venting, I'll be able to focus on the appropriate emotion, which is overwhelming happiness for my friend's happiness.

Abu's life will revolve around me until the day she dies. How's that for an ego trip? The catch is that in the end, I will have to kill her. Life is never easy I suppose, not for anyone. But there's lots of happiness along the way.

I'm liking Sum 41's "We're all to blame." I love watching punk bands move from crazy stupid to socially conscious. On that note, I'm loving Green Day's new album.

That's it. I'll write more later on the subject of the new year. The usual new year's drivel, I predict.

okay.... tsunami.

I can't read any more.... can't see anymore.... it makes me sick to my stomach to think of all those people.... all the repercussions of this disaster.... it will be many many years before things begin to get better. Some people will never get any closure.... some people will never be found, dead or alive.

Not too long ago, a plane crashed into the twin towers in new york. A couple thousand americans died. It was tragic and enraging, because it was perpetrated by pure human malice. Loved ones died according to the dictates of an insane stranger's hatred.

The mormons chased me down at a bus stop here in regina, while I was at bible school. They asked me how I thought God could let such a terrible thing happen, and it was simple to me. God didn't blow up those towers. Suicide bombers did. They were to blame. And if you wanted to know why suicide bombers did it, I could blame George Bush Sr. and foreign relations policies and sanctions and food for oil. I could even go further back and finger the great patriarch, Abraham, for putting Ishmael and his mother out in the cold.....

The point is, whether my pat answers were correct or justifiable, the bombing of the two towers was a crime against people, by people. People made choices which led to more choices which led to people dying in an unjust fashion.

Today I'm asking why. A giant earthquake triggered a giant wave which wiped tens of thousands of people out of existence. I can't blame Osama bin Laden, or Saddam Hussein, or George Bush, or any other diabolical entity. There is only on individual who has any power over tectonic plates, and I would really like to ask Him why. Why was it necessary for all these people to die? Why so horrific? Why does it need to cause such longstanding suffering for so many survivors?

So many things in my mind can be attributed to the fallen nature of man, but this one escapes my paradigm. I'm pretty sure I'll never have an answer to my questions, but I still have to ask them.

I've always ignored natural disasters, but this one's a doozy. I suppose eventually all those things you ignore over the course of your life will muscle their way into your consciousness. After all, we weren't put here to ignore life, but to experience it. I think you're better off asking all the questions when they come up, otherwise one day you might just have a faith shaking question overload. I've had a few of those. They suck.

So take it from me. It's better to have no answers to questions you've already asked.

I have nothing to complain about. Like the guy at work said, "you know you're in trouble when the saskatchewan guy says 'dude, that's a big wave!!'"

Every now and again I wind up taking this inkblot test because of some link somewhere, and I'm always amazed by how accurate it is, though when I'm filling it out, there are usually a couple different ways I could honestly answer. I'm certain that my answers are always different, according to the stuff I'm going through at the time.

I remember this picture, and my main motivation, but the writeup seems new. Interesting. Here's my writeup. go take the test yourself.

Leila, your subconscious mind is driven most by Curiosity

You are full of questions about life, people, and your own potential. You spend more time than others imagining the possibilities for your life — and you're open to things others are too afraid to consider.

You have an almost physical need to know and do more. It's only through new experiences that you feel a greater understanding of yourself and the world. You also have a rebellious streak that shows up when you feel unable to truly influence the world or circumstances around you. Your appetite for novel experiences also shows an openness others don't have, but wish they did.

Your psyche is very rich; the more you learn about it, the more you will understand who you really are.

I'm back..... home sweet home. Abu was happier than I was to get home. My roomie has left for florida, so we're all alone until the 9th..... and I'm already going a bit batty. Yes, I like my alone time, but when it's over, I need someone to verbally abuse.

It is so good to be able to hang loose in my place. It's nice to be able to find everything where I left it (even if that is in the middle of the floor) and it's nice to have Abu with me, instead of shivering in the basement. Even if she does beg for my brandy beans.

At Christmas lots of focus is placed on family, spending time with family. Family is so much more than the people who raised you, and sometimes (for some of us, oftentimes) spending time with family can be trying. This Christmas was possibly the least difficult Christmas has ever been. Perhaps this is because I managed to miss the gatherings, and only spent time with immediate family. Perhaps it's because I had Grand Theft Auto to blow of steam, and perhaps it was Ani Difranco crooning "Not Angry Anymore" and soothing the part of me that still aches for my original family.

Either way, it was short, and sweet, and now I'm thrilled to be home, less thrilled to be working, and looking forward to seeing my friends again.

Unfortunately, I waited too long to post this, and so I instead of further contemplation, I must instead go to bed. Too bad for you.

Mmmmmm..... my very own bed.....