understand me.... define me.

in the end, all we want is people to stroke our egos. we like to think we we write these words as a method of healing, but really, all we want is for someone, anyone, to read our words and say, "hey, i like what you wrote", or "you have good taste in music and books".

and it becomes addictive. a few people say some nice things, and we want more. we want more people to like us, and to say and think nice things about us. our fragile egos need stroking, perhaps due to a lack of this in our childhood.

... or maybe it's just me....

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i think we're also looking for things to define us. what does define us? our tastes in music, books, movies, poems; our physical activities, our jobs, our friends. sometimes we need something to define us, and it will hit us when we least expect us. a song on the radio. the wind lightly blowing through a patch of birch trees as if that event happened just for us. maybe that's why we like reading books - to find out that we're not the only ones with these crazy, mixed-up thoughts. there's a degree of validation, i suppose.

surely i am rambling....

why stop now?

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the rheostatics are coming to town this week. i haven't decided if i'm going to go. i just saw them in november. if i go, it will be a last minute decision.

i took part in canada's other national winter sport yesterday. it involves ice, brooms and throwing rocks at houses. one person mentioned that it's the adult equivalent of the childrens game of marbles. it's harder than it looks.

stay tuned.