The following is an excerpt from a conversation over messenger with my friend Murray tonight. Happy Easter!

Dr. Rock says: Hey Riel

Hahn solo. says: inksta

Dr. Rock says: don't suppose you're blogging are ya?

Hahn solo. says: right now?

Dr. Rock says: since you're online and all

Hahn solo. says: um..nope...why...were you hoping for a new entry?

Dr. Rock says: well, far be it from me to complain. But I always enjoy a new entry

Hahn solo. says: heh. i liked your newest entry a lot.

Dr. Rock says: thank you

Dr. Rock says: It was rattling around in my head for a while

Hahn solo. says: it's only been since march 30th that i wrote one. how often are you hoping i'll write in it?

Dr. Rock says: I know. And your last post explained that it probably wouldn't be that frequent. Like I said, I'm not going to pester you.

Hahn solo. says: that last one was kind of serious, if i recall. i don't think it's a good idea for me to write in it these days....i seem to be writing a lot of, uh, racially, uh, controversial, material right now...

i have dug deep down to my core and found some things that are not that pretty there.

Dr. Rock says: racially?

Hahn solo. says: well, it all started when i saw this yellow mini cooper the other day and noticed that it was an asian guy driving it.

Dr. Rock says: ah

Hahn solo. says: i'm sure you can extrapolate.

then i got myself into a bit of a hole at a party the other day trying to explain why i thought black guys were better at high fiving than white guys.

Dr. Rock says: hahaha

what's wrong with that?

Hahn solo. says: the hole i dug myself into was wrong.

Dr. Rock says: hm

Hahn solo. says: because it was all white guys, so i think they were a bit sensitive about the slight.

Dr. Rock says: oh jeez. give me a break. it's only funny if it's a gross generalization.

besides, it's true

Hahn solo. says: yeah.

or the truth.

exactly!

it was problematic because my supposition was predicated on the theory that eye contact is the key to a solid, consistent high fiving career.

and i think that eye contact is a sign of confidence.

Dr. Rock says: I see

Hahn solo. says: and i think black men are more confident than white men.

but maybe it's a canadian/american thing.

Dr. Rock says: yeah

Hahn solo. says: or east/west.

Dr. Rock says: I did learn a pretty sweet hi-fiving tip though.

Hahn solo. says: but i think white men's liberal guilt has rendered them a bit stymied.

if you say "look at the guy's elbow"...

Dr. Rock says: On this hi-fiving forum I read sometimes

okay, you've heard it

Hahn solo. says: that's what started our whole high fiving discussion.

Dr. Rock says: hm

Dr. Rock says: they must subscribe to the same "Handz Up" newsletter

Hahn solo. says: high fivin' nerds.

Dr. Rock says: seriously, it's bigger than frisbee in some areas

Hahn solo. says: and the injuries are very severe, i've heard, when you are just a fraction of an inch out of alignment.

Dr. Rock says: That's what makes it so "x-treme"

Hahn solo. says: bah, i say, to xtreme. even gum is xtreme now. there has to be a next level. severe.

severe winter sports.

Dr. Rock says: haha

that's true. I remember when gum was this underground thing

Hahn solo. says: i know.

i hate the new gum.

it was so much better when it first came out.

Dr. Rock says: haha

totally

Hahn solo. says: i don't even chew it anymore. i'm that bored of it.

but i guess that's because i knew about gum before anyone.

i dated the guy who's dad invented gum, so we got to try it before it even came out.

bootleg gum sessions.

Dr. Rock says: haha. "gum sessions"

Dr. Rock says: that's funny

Hahn solo. says: i'm fuckin' on fire lately.

Hahn solo. says: would you mind if i reproduced word for word our conversation as a blog entry?

Dr. Rock says: no, not at all

Hahn solo. says: cause i think it's funny.

this conversation.

Dr. Rock says: i've been laughing

Hahn solo. says: yeah, me too.

or, rather, me, too. to get the punctuation correct.

Dr. Rock says: is this part going in too?

Hahn solo. says: only up to this point, because now you know you're being published everything will change.

Dr. Rock says: yeah, its not pure art anymore

Hahn solo. says: exactly.

it's severe art now.

Dr. Rock says: nice!

Hahn solo. says: thank you.

Hahn solo. says: little bow.

Dr. Rock says: hehe

New things

"Anonymous said...

Hellooooooo! Where are you? Write something already....."

Yes, I am aware of my bloggery neglect. No, I am not sorry. I am inclined to selfishness these days, it has been a freight train of experience since I got home. I do want to tell you, I honestly do, but I also want to keep what may start to sound like whining to a minimum. I am not bored with myself yet, in fact the opposite, I am endlessly fascinated with my own discoveries and insides, but am very aware how quickly it might become dull to those around me. I am in some limbo as I am on waiting lists all over the place for various kinds of psychological evaluation and treatment. I want so badly to be talking to someone, and yet not just anyone. In the meantime I have been talking to anyone, and I just keep thinking "shut up shut up shut up" inside my head. Why can't I just be quiet? So I am trying. And partly I try by not notating each and every waking moment here.

I won't kid you, it has not been an easy time. I love my job. I am crazy for my job. My job is predictable and keeps me steady. Or, rather, is the one steady thing. I like being able to count on it, to have a reason to get up every day. A place to go. I like that I don't have to go there for too long. I am surprised at how little energy I have.

I am moving in with my good friend PJ for a couple of months. He has kindly offered a cozy room in his home to me, so I can look for the right place without panic, and can save a little money, and can have a nice, big tv for the playoffs. Not to mention a bbq, a patio, a freezer full of meat and a real bed up off of the floor. Grown up amenities to remind me I am growing up.

My emotional state is changeable, my sleep is erratic, and there have been walloping, painful, blinding migraines recently. I do what I can to stay out of the darker reaches of my brain, but it gets the better of me some days. I have had some very bad moments, and nearly checked myself back in to the hospital this week. I have been walking as much as I can, and have started jogging a little, which helps. I also have been going to AA meetings. I am pretty sure they are not exactly the right place for me, but in the interim while I have no therapy to attend, they are somewhere comforting where I can feel safe when I don't feel safe inside myself. Which I don't sometimes. I get very scared, and can feel extremely lonely, even in a crowd full of my friends. AA meetings remind me to take care of myself, to do the right things in my life, and to pray. Praying makes me breathe and remember to be grateful, which I am, mostly just to be alive. Because I almost wasn't this winter, and that's the truth.

I have fallen a couple of times, strayed from what are my new, healthy habits, since coming back to the city. It has been a challenge to be out of the cozy nest of watchful family, and to be responsible for my own welfare. Thank God for my job. And my good good friends who are keeping their eyes on me, even though they have their own lives and worries to attend to.

I can tell you this, I do not want to go back to where I was in the winter, but some days I am very frightened that I am headed that way. So I have to pay close, vigilant attention at all times to make sure I am taking care. I have proven to myself that I can easily slip into old habits, and that only constant deep breaths and taking it one day, one hour, one minute at a time is the only way through this patch. I do get to worrying sometimes, I am afraid that this battle will always feel difficult, that I will always be tired, that I will never feel right again, but somewhere in me I have a steady voice, reminding me that if I do the work, and humbly walk forward, I will live lightly again. I hope, I pray, I eat, I work, I laugh, I cry, (I laugh and cry a lot), and I practice patience and kindness with myself.

All of this has affected my relationships with so many people in so many ways. Friendships are changing, as I am changing, and I am so grateful to be so loved, but know I can not spread my attention as thin and wide as I have in the past. I am so limited in what I can do in a day, and I choose very carefully, always putting myself first. I look forward to the time when I do not have to concentrate so hard to take care, when it is the new neural truth, when the pathways have been retrained. I also look very much forward to getting back on stage, but it is still a ways off, even though people have very sweetly been asking for me. It is nice to be wanted, and nicer still to do it all at my own pace.

Every day is a little adventure, and a total gift, and a leap into the unknown. Some days I fall, some days I run, some days I find peace, some days there is so much noise.

And that is what there is.

xo
r.

Naptastic

I am home, I am working, I am feeling good. I am very tired, but in a good way. Less energy than I thought, and working is pretty much all I can manage. But I love my new job, and I'm so happy to have a job, and to have structure. I will tell you more later, I just wanted you to know that I'm well and trying my very best to take care of myself.

I'll also try to put some new photos on the flickr site this weekend, I've got some beauties.

It has been so jam packed since I got home a week (!) ago. Can't believe it's only been a week. My friends are being so very good to me, and I just feel eager to move forward. I'm on time for everything, it's very weird.

Also, I'm looking for a place to live, so if anyone hears of anything, let me know. Ideally I'd like a little place to myself.

xo
r.

Silence is Golden. And Gum is sticky.

I'll begin at the beginning. But first, let me say this. I have just returned from seeing the worst play I have ever seen. EVER. And I have seen some puh-retty bad theatre.

The real beginning. You know my state. I have ups and downs. This past week has been difficult. But I won't get into that now. Just know that seeing a very bad play may not have been, uh, soothing, for me. No, no, it may have spawned a fury. So. I knew it was a bad play. Everyone said it was bad. My mother designed this play and all she could talk about was how bad it was. But she made me see it anyway. Well, let's not dump this on her shoulders. Her set was lovely. And the lighting was very good, and the sound design quite sweet. But the script. (Whoops, I just puked a bit). And the directing. (Brief pause while I gouge out my own eyes). She did not MAKE me see it. But she did want me to see it. Partly to see her set, and partly because she really wanted to hear how I would analyze it. So I agreed to go. Now, I had heard that on opening night the production manager and props guy had walked out after the first ten minutes and gotten very drunk in the lobby and very loudly tore the thing to shreds, in full hearing range of the audience. And tonight when were seeing it at one point all three people I went with were asleep. All three of them.

What I'm trying to get at here is that my expectations were very, very low. Very low. On the way to the theatre I was driving, a half hour drive or so, in the car by myself, lowering my expectations, wishing I smoked cigarettes. Which led to wishing I had any vices right now. How do people maintain goodness? I'm not drinking, smoking, doing drugs, lying, cheating, stealing, fucking...nothing. I came to the conclusion that it's going to have to be tattoos. And I did drive a bit fast on the way to the theatre. But I knew that I could neither get a tattoo nor lay on the gas pedal while watching the show. So I really, really, really wished I smoked by the time intermission rolled around. I asked permission to not stay for the second act, but got the hairy eyeball, so I moved to the back of the theatre so that I didn't have the director and playwright sitting right behind me and I could glower and mutter to my heart's content.

So by the end of the first act I am wishing that every character on the stage would die an excrutiating death. And by the end of the second I am wishing I would. And then. A great cosmic joke. Possible Karma for my lack of diplomacy. I discovered that a very large, very FRESH wad of gum had been under my seat, in just the perfect place to A: get stuck to the back of the left leg of my jeans so that it could B: get stuck to the right front leg when I crossed them and C: could get stuck to my dress when the seat flipped up and I leaned against it. I have gum stuck to everything. Insult+Injury=irrational rage.

Sadly tonight was closing night so that I can not inflict the torture on anyone else I know. "Ew, this reeks, smell it". "This tastes disgusting, try it". "This play sucks, go see it". You know how bad it was? I preferred the smell of my own farts on the way home in the car to the play. And I had had a pork sandwich for dinner.

Thank you, and good night.

Did it!

Huh. I just did something I've been meaning to do for years. Literally. And I haven't done it...why. Because I was scared, I suppose. But, as my good friend Kim pointed out to me, the worst thing they could do to me is shoot me in the face. I thought that probably I would think that being tortured would be worse, because if they shot me in the face I would die and I wouldn't know the difference. But if I didn't die, that would be the worst. However. I just did it, and lo and behold, still have my face, no shooting.

So. What did I do, you may well ask? I applied for the directing program at the National Theatre School. There are a few more steps to the process, and I don't really expect to get it, because they only accept people every two years, and then it's only two people...so...but. The doing of it. It's funny, it's just the initial step, the registration form, which is basically a resume, but I feel kind of giddy.

How giddy? I'm going to go right out and apply for the Voice Intensive at UBC, and a job at the City of Burnaby that I am eminently qualified for.

This new me is kind of fun. I like the new me. That's a pretty big deal, if you want to know the truth.

Now get outta here and go look at my photos on flickr!

xo
r.