... were the first thoughts that popped to mind when I crawled out of bed on Monday.

September... sheesh. Where does the time go? I even started a blog on Monday, but didn't have time to finish it. These are busy days around the Mellowdee & J household.

My parents were due to arrive at 3:00 this afternoon, but naturally they missed their flight. Construction kept them in a stop and go motion for about 40 minutes longer than expected.

However, construction aside, I can't say that I'm surprised. I know my folks all to well, and this is kinda par for the course with them. (The last time I came to visit, they were over two hours late picking me up from the airport -- which is a about a two hour drive from where they live. I thought there had been an accident! Instead, they finally arrived, without an apology or excuse.)

Their flight today is both their first flight ever. Mom is 53 and dad is 57. I have to say that it's quite a brave feat for both of them, especially mom who is terrified of heights. I reminded them several times to leave extra early this morning, just to make sure they get there with plenty of time. So, despite the construction, if they *completely* missed their plane, then I know for sure that they must've left really late. Sigh. Parents... they never listen. ;)

Fortunately, Westjet was very accommodating and put them on a later flight, (they're lucky they didn't fly Air Cananda.) So now they are due to arrive around 9:50 this evening. My mother just called me from a payphone to let me know they were about to board the plane. I didn't really hear what else she had to say as the automated Bell Operator interrupted her after about 30 seconds to say that she must deposit another seventy cents to speak for another minute. We said our quick goodbyes, and I wished them a safe flight.

So... with my parents arriving much later than expected, now I have a whole afternoon to do with as I please... more or less. I still have to vacuum and hide my journals.

I love my mother, but I don't trust her unsupervised in my apartment for three weeks. One too many times as a teenager I had to practically wrestle her to get my journal back... Yes, that's just one of the many heart-warming moments from my family's checkered past.

I remember it all too well. I'd catch her reading my journal from her bedroom doorway. I'd watch for a minute or so before I let the accusations fly, "What are you doing? Is that my journal?"

Her guilty conscience was like a spring, flinging her ten feet into the air the moment she heard my voice. She'd quickly put my journal behind her back and blatantly deny ever reading it, "I'm reviewing next week's Sunday School lessons. Now go away!"

But as foolish as her own silly actions were, she certainly didn't raise no fool. I caught her reading my journal with my own eyes, so why on earth would I ever fall for her lies?

I'd demand she give it back, as she would back away with her hands remaining behind her. She'd yell at me, "There's nothing in my hands! Get out of here! It's none of your damn business what I'm reading!" Hmm... more like it was none of hers.

I wasn't a bad teenager. I was always home before curfew or always called if I'd be late -- unlike my sister who had run away a few times. While I experimented, I wasn't heavy into drugs -- unlike my sister who was constantly stoned on meth or LSD. I had good grades with honours -- unlike my sister who the principal actually encouraged to drop out. (Can't say I approve of that... it's pretty harsh to tell a parent that their child is "hopeless". Fortunately Sis did finish high school on time via basic correspondence classes and doing co-op at a local factory.)

So... anyhow, with all these problems with my sister, what was mom hoping to find by prying into my life? Secrets about how much I hated living there? The scoop on what I was getting into when I wasn't at home? Now that I think of it, I suppose it's true... I had a lot of secrets. While Sis let her rebellion all hang out, and I was always quiet, reserved and unassuming. I didn't want my parents to know what I was up to. I wanted to define myself separate from them. I wanted my own life. In many ways, I think that part of me still lives today. Why else did I move out as a teenager? (Well, I have a few other answers for that one.... but not today.) Why else do I live thousands of miles away? (Again, there are a few answers to that question, but distance and space certainly does have its place in the equation.)

So in an effort to maintain my private teenaged life, when mom would deny reading my journals, I'd finally find myself with no choice but to lunge forward, ripping my diary from her snoopy clutches, as pages would tear in her desperate attempt to hang on. Who knew my seemingly boring life was so damn exciting that it would provoke my mother to go to such pathetic extremes? Gawd, it pissed me off to no end.

What made it worse is that she would gossip about what she'd find in my journal in the MOST inappropriate places. (Not that there's ever an appropriate time or place - but around the dinner table at family get-togethers? I mean really... she was only making herself look bad by leaving me with no choice but to confront her about where she got all her juicy (and embellished) stories.) Ah momma... Look how far we've come since then... and yet, have we really? I have no doubt she'd do the very same today if I let her.

And so long story not-so-short, over 10 years later, I still feel compelled to hide my journals before my folks arrive this evening. I'm opening my home to my parents. For the next three weeks, what's ours is theirs.... but I can't help it... the trust is gone, and I have to keep some things sacred.

The truth is, I'm sure my journals are probably even less interesting now as they were back then. Poetry, dream recordings, tarot readings, observations, aspirations, inspirations... Even though I feel the need to hide them, there's honestly nothing too exciting to be found. Seriously.

And so just for kicks, and because I have a little time to kill right now, I'm gonna randomly open some of my journals and share whatever I find:

October 22, 2004 - Dream Recording
Number 2 of 6 dreams

I was in my hometown at a restaurant/bar near Kinsmen Pool. I ordered a lemonade and tonic drink with something red in it. I spoke to the girls at the next table who were talking about what a shame it was that R-something had closed. It was a small diner with great food and famous fries, owned by two old hippies. They never told anyone they were closing, but warned people that this would be the last time anyone would get to eat their crispy fries. They were bought out and forced to close their business which would be turned into a parking lot.

Fascinating, huh?! I swear I must've heard "Paved Paradise" on the radio before bed or something. And apparently to me, paradise equals crispy french fries. Ha.

July 21, 2001 - Experience

A couple months ago I left my body. As I peacefully fell asleep, I felt myself spinning and heard a static sound. I saw my body a few inches below me. I sat up and could hear M's voice. It sounded like him speaking with a guy and a girl. I could see a shadow of M before me. Wanting to wake up, since I had been visiting back home and hadn't seen him in a few days, I tried shaking my hair, snapping my fingers, and shuffling my legs. I then remembered to visualize a silver cord leading back to my body. I woke up with a shock; however, M was not home.

Later on I discovered that the conversation which I had heard was in fact M speaking to two other people at work.

I had a similar experience that occured as I went to bed later that night, only it was much more brief. I momentarily floated above my bed in my room, and then returned to my body.

Gosh, I almost forgot all about that. I can't still remember the sensation of the shock I felt when I woke up... it was almost like an electical volt had jolted me.

July 27, 2004 (I think it was written in '04... I didn't put the year down, and this particular book is all out of order. I'd just write on whatever page I felt like...)

Behind footprints of humility
And a palm full of filthy fortune
A starving sandwich bag purse
Held by an empty stomach
Naseaus, insulted
Daggars of disgust
Promising a cold prophesy
For a single sailboat and a queen
Impulse ignites fire
Making for sweet dreams
Token benediction
Health, wealth and happiness
It didn't protect me
But it might protect you

Okay, that one will need a little decipering... I think I was just trying to be creative in how I wrote it, but I'll deconstruct it below.

Behind footprints of humility - I was standing in line at Safeway, and the guy in line in front of me was homeless.
And a palm full of filthy fortune - His dirty fingers were counting out some small change.
A starving sandwich bag purse - He was pulling his change from a little sandwich bag.
Held by an empty stomach - Obviously "empty stomach" is in reference to the homeless man.
Naseaus, insulted - The teenaged cashier held out her hand as he counted his change into it. She looked like she was going to puke because she had to deal with him.
Daggars of disgust - She was shooting him dirty looks.
Promising a cold prophesy - He was trying to buy a log, because it was winter and it was friggin' cold out, but he didn't have enough money for the log, and so she wasn't going to let him have it.
For a single sailboat and a queen - He was only short a dime. (On a Canadian dime there is a sailboat on one side and the queen on the other.)
Impulse ignites fire - I couldn't believe what I was seeing! She was actually going to refuse him the log because he was a dime short!! Unbelievable! I didn't think twice. I just grabbed a dime from my purse and gave it to her, so he could have his log.
Making for sweet dreams - Sweet dreams by a fire, as opposed to freezing.
Token benediction - He held up his last penny (his token), and blessed me.
Health, wealth and happiness - He told me that the penny was a Native American good luck charm and that if I kept it with me, it would bring health, wealth and happiness.
It didn't protect me - I couldn't help but think later on that the penny really didn't bring much luck to him.
But it might protect you - But hopefully it would bring luck to me.

Anyhow, even though my journals contain all kinds of random nonsense such as that, I still think I'm going to hide them.

Speaking of journals, this blog is very much like a journal, so I suppose while my parents are here the next few days, I won't be on here much. And then, before you know it, next Monday J n' I leave for Vienna. (And from Vienna to Salzburg, to Venice, to Verona, to Interlaken, to Paris to Amsterdam.) Hmm... I guess I really won't be around for a while.

So in case I can't manage to cram in any blogging time before next Monday, I guess I should wish you all a great September, and I'll see you in early October!

Take care... and now I gotta go find a good place to hide my journals. ;)