Me

Every time I get on a bus or walk leisurely, I'm reminded that I am extremely privileged, blessed, elite. I have a very capable body: it functions perfectly. I have no deformities, I was born a very healthy baby, I have a fantastic and agile mind; I am a very good size, perhaps a bit short, but, being female, I'll still grow, slightly and slowly, but surely, for even a few more years.

I am able to train myself; to develop myself. I learn, I adapt, I grow.

I am a very blessed human being. I am entering perhaps the prime of my life. Age 22 is the average time when the part of our human brain that deals with the long-term perspective enters maturity. Supposedly, most women don't reach their full sexual (orgasmic) potential until 35. That's going to be something.

Leah has started her menopause, and she told me she felt "wise", that the lack of estrogen made her feel wise and perhaps more able to understand the world without this hormonal bias. That's probably what I'm feeling right now--I'm finishing bleeding for the month. There's a lot of anecdotal reports of increased creativity during a woman's period. Is it the estrogen? The lack thereof? I'm not sure.


I have a wonderful body, a beautiful mind, a determined spirit. I am so blessed. Now what will I do with these?

--Charlie

"Charlie"

Charlie

I think I want to have people call me "Charlie" from now on. Not as a legal name-change, but more of a nick-name -dealie. Way back when, I had people call me "Char" (unfortunately, this was immediately prior to / during the Pokemon craze at my school, and taunts like, "Char-char-charmander! Oh no! Charmander evolves to Charmeleon!!" so I tried to shed it quickly).

I dunno, something just feels very appealing about being a "Charlie". And it would be pronounced either with the emphasis on both syllables, or only the last syllable--"CHAR-LEE" or "char-LEE", not "CHAR-lee".

I would spell it "Charlee" if only it didn't look so "pretty pretty princess!" Also if it were not related to the pr0n star writer.

At work, some of my co-workers are adopting it, too. I also want to use it as a pseudonym, since nobody understands the name "Karissa", but "Charlie" is familiar and stable. Except that some will get confused with the masculine "Charlie". But they can screw themselves. If they can't get over it, they won't want to deal with it, and that makes life easier for me!

I guess, the other thing:

Vietcong: a guerrilla member of the Vietnamese Communist movement [link].

This would often be abbreviated "V C", but in the IPA, thus: "Victor Charlie", and became "Charlie" for short [link].

So I might get some people going, "Charlie, huh? You're not a charlie, are you?" And I'll say, "No, I'm Canadian."

I'm not sure how others will receive this. Then again, it's a nickname, right, so only my new or closer friends will know about it.


Image

In my mind, "Charlie" is this wonderful, eccentric but articulate, "Bohemian", partying girl (who's sometimes a boy) who is just as comfortable in a tight, cleavy tank-top as a tux or flannel and overalls.

At heart, she just wants to be happy and be herself; whether the road is simple or complicated.

And I'm not sure if Charlie is actually who I want to be, or if she's another character I want to live alongside my life.

Aside:

I've always had the ability to project my experiences through another character/personality/viewpoint. Sometimes it's in the form of different "voices" giving me different feedback/advice on events, and sometimes it's a full-blown conversation with them. Sometimes it's like that personality got into my driver's seat and is the person driving this body.

It's ranged from cautionary words to "WHERE THE FUCK DID THAT COME FROM?!" actions. And I like to think one of them is a mysterious psychic who takes images, feelings and events in general, from the future, and puts them into my dreams.

Sometimes they become characters in stories I write; sometimes I think they're much too special to share with anyone else. Sometimes I'll be coming up with new characters and they evolve from there.

I've sort-of accepted it now. *shrug* But I have to remind myself sometimes that not everyone...believes things like this are normal. They're kind of like guardian angels / demons / characters in general.

So, who knows who Charlie is!

But I'll try being a Charlie for a while. We'll see what happens.

--Charlie?

New Year

Extract from private journals, 26-Dec-07 03:06

I feel ... inspired. I think, from now on, I'll make my "bed" properly: roll up the sleeping and mattress; fold up the blankets neatly; pile away everything ... Do more push-ups. Definitely do more push-ups. And running. ... Maybe a gym pass to that place in [neighbourhood] wouldn't be so bad... It's nearby, and it can't be so expensive...

"New Year Resolutions"? (plans/goals)

- lose tummy fat
- pass next fitness test easily
- take driving lessons from Mark (informal)
- get a social life (start one)
- possibly get a sweetheart who'll stick around through Summer
- redecorate downstairs room
- BMQ

I went to a New Year's Eve "party" tonight. We didn't do a countdown, though; we were too busy playing Settlers.

This was at the Math school's principal's house. He's an engineer. I think everyone there was an engineer, or in swing dance (that's inclusive-or). Woo! Man, do I need to meet more people like that! One of them, let's call him Wayne, was especially fantastic; he reminded me of the Dean of Music (few years back): powerful, playful and brilliant all at once!

Sadly, I realized, I was the youngest person there by five years. Everyone else had graduated and was going into careers--steady, getting ready to settle down.

People are beautiful--absolutely beautiful. I'm re-realizing this.


Excerpt from private journals, 27-Dec-07 23:22 bus

On the way to the bus stop, I saw a lady walking. She wore a skirt and no stockings. High-heeled boots. I couldn't tell if she was young or old. I walked about twice as fast as her and was beside her shortly. She turned around; a little scared or surprised, and then quickly asked which way to [street]. I told her it was up ahead. Here. She said she was scared by downtown--heard too many "horror stories". I said it would help to cover up. She said she wasn't cold. I said it's more than warmth. I could not tell if she was 12 or 40. Old (physically) features, but a youth... Well, pre-teen-ness to her. She spoke as though she'd made up her mind about downtown.

...

On the bus, there was a black man at the very back. He asked someone for a pen. His voice was intimidatingly big; loud. Accented. Deep. I liked it. He asked the other man where he came from; said something that sounded like, "We're the same brother," or "We have the same brother". Asked if he had "keeds, cheeldren, faminy". I missed the rest. As he left, he said, "Take care."

That last sketch isn't explained very well.

The man said the words "kids, children, family" with his accent (Jamaican, perhaps?) so that they sounded more like "keeds, cheeldren, faminy", but the words came deeply from him: meaningful and potent. He and the other man were engaged in quiet conversation up until the first man left. The way he said, "Take care"--it was with love, as though the man had no shortage of it; a free and abundant well. I loved it.


"New Year's Resolutions"

Physical:

- Get fit.
- Stay fit.
- Lose tummy chub.

Social:
- Get back in touch with friends--get a social life.
- Make new friends and buddies--get a social life.
- Maintain social life.
- (Optional) Find a sweetheart who will stick around through Summer for once!

Career Path:

University:

- Go back to University.
- Learn French.
- Take Calculus; if possible, take Honours Calculus!
- Take English / "written requirement".
- (Long-term) Work toward a degree in Mathematics.
Army:

- Take Basic Military Qualification in May-June.
- Frickin' learn yer frickin' drill!
Income:

- Earn a wage increase (market research) this time.

Tada!

... More to follow later.

--Charissa

When I grow up

"Mum, do you know what I want to be when I grow up? I want to be someone who can talk to anyone. I want to be able to understand what anyone says, and I want for anyone to be able to understand what I say. Because, some part of me realizes that until something I experience is real to someone else, it's incomplete. Even I am 'someone else' every passing month, week, day; and I forget; and when I forget something, maybe it didn't happen. But if someone else knows it, or if I can make a perfect record, something more than simply experience has been accomplished."

At least, that's what I wish I'd said.

Last night, I took a bus home from work. I kinda had this feeling that I should leave work on time tonight--sometimes, I stay logged in for an extra few minutes, especially on Sundays, because I could get paid overtime if I wanted. But, last night, I just felt like I'd benefit more from something if I left work on time.

On the bus home, an elderly Oriental man took a seat in front of me.

Maybe I should explain...


Why Buses are Important to me

I meet a lot of people through the buses.

I'm not quite sure why it happens that way, but I just do. Once I jumped over a bank of snow to get to the bus stop, and a young man laughed, so we started talking. Turns out, he's a friend of the principal of the Maths school where I work.

People like to talk to me for some reason. Mostly, these are older folks, and it's eye-opening to hear what they think of the world. I never knew there were so many pessimists!

Several times, I've talked to folks, and they've told me stories of how there are such injustices in the world, and they're the only ones fighting back! There was a lady whose mother was robbed while they were downtown, so the lady clobbered the thief so badly that the next time he saw them, he crossed the street to avoid them. There was a man who entered a restaurant and saw a young lady leave her bag on the table and a ruffian pick up the bag and make as though to leave with it. The man picked the thief up by the collar and made such a commotion that the thief could never show his face at the restaurant again. There was a woman who saw a lady in a wheelchair was wanting to board the bus. There was a young boy sitting on a fold-away bus seat, and the woman told the boy, rather severely, that he'd have to move.

These struck me as painfully loveless solutions to painfully loveless problems. And it was on the bus that I decided that if I want to change this, I'd have to be the opposite. If someone steals from me, maybe that means I'll catch him and give him money instead of a beating.

...Anyway.


Talking to People

On the bus home, an elderly Oriental man took a seat in front of me. Near the end of the bus ride, he began coughing violently; so I tapped him on the shoulder and passed him a pack of cough drops. He thanked me over his shoulder; and we talked a little.

His English was poor, but he spoke Cantonese. Actually, his English was better than my Cantonese (which actually might not be saying much). I never asked his name--mostly because he never asked mine, and it really isn't important--but I'll call him Jim for the purposes of this blog entry.

Jim's from Vietnam. He told me he has a younger sister living in the States, and other siblings back in Vietnam. He works for a company that makes chairs; and on Sundays, he goes to a casino by himself. He has two sons; and he's a grandfather at 62 years.

And I wouldn't say I have amazing communication skills, but I'm even a little impressed we managed to exchange that much information. At one point, we switched to Cantonese, and I had to explain in my undoubtedly Canadian-accented Cantonese, "Sik tang siu-siu, sik gong siu dee," which means I can listen/understand a little, but I can speak less. I live at home with my parents and am the youngest of my siblings. My "dai-goa" lives in Germany, and my "yee-goa" lives on a different street.

It felt unreal to talk to Jim. We were talking across a fairly steep language barrier, two countries, two generations and 43 years. I could see bits of his world, but not understand their depth; and I'm sure it was the same for him.

So, when I got home that night, I told my mum how awesome it was. I'm not sure she quite understood it all, but that's okay, because I can keep explaining things to her and she'll keep trying to understand; and she'll try to explain things to me, and I'll think I understand them (though I probably don't), and it's okay, because she's still my mum and I'm still her daughter. I find that so incredibly comforting.

And when I grow up, I want to be someone who can communicate with anyone, no matter the kind of separation between us.

--Charissa