Author: foxtongue

Space for Rent

Alrighty, I’ve tried to friend everyone interested in the rooms for rent in our house, to keep track of them, (keep track. wow), and in the vague hope they will friend me back, so that updating people will become easier.

Current news, to those interested:

We will not be showing until after our current roomate has moved out and we have painted the space. That will prolly be next week.

Thank you

~jhayne

how is it possible that I never knew about this?

I have been informed about something wonderful. Something stupendous. Dammit! If it’s been only a few weeks earlier I could have seen Rosencratz and Guildenstern Are Dead!

There is a theatre in vancouver that I could LIVE at.

http://www.placebo1183.ca/

We must go. We must go and go and go and go and become so regular that they let us go for free.

from shifuku

LAYER ONE:
— Name: jhayne
— Birthplace: can’t recall
— Current Location: vancouver canada
— Eye Color: bluegray
— Hair Color: plum
— Height: 5’8″
— Righty or Lefty: ambidexterity was beaten out of me by a grade 4 teacher from the 18oo’s

LAYER TWO:
— Your heritage: canadian, (gibson & holmes)
— Your weakness: beauty, slender sweet pale girls with waves of long dark hair
— Your fears: seaweed
— Your perfect pizza: taco pizza, lettuce, tomatoes, mushrooms, cheese and turkey hamburger topped with sour cream
— Goal you’d like to achieve: globetrotting

LAYER THREE:
— Your most overused phrase on AIM: n/a
— Your thoughts first waking up: another useless day. joy.
— Your best physical feature: my ability to sit still for the camera, though I’m sure that doesn’t count – any takers on this question?
— Your bedtime: depends on my love and when dinner is ready

LAYER FOUR:
— Pepsi or Coke: I can think of more pleasant things to inbibe than malted battery acid, such as juice.
— McDonald’s or Burger King: as if I would know? more carrots!
— Single or group dates: people still date? I wonder about that. It seeems so.. antiquidated. Like certain approaches to marriage or parlours.
— Adidas or Nike: agnostic
— Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: note the cokeVSpepsi question
— Chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate
— Cappuccino or coffee: erm… the one with chocolate

LAYER FIVE:
— Smoke: inscence, candles, oil lamps
— Cuss: no thank you
— Sing: not anymore
— Take a shower every day: usually, when m’love gets home from work we shower
— Have a crush(es): only on fictional charactors.
— Do you think you’ve been in love: seems to be the case.
— Want to go to college: not particularly
— Like high school: I suppose theoretically it’s possible, that whole “best days of your lives” thing can’t be ENTIRELY a marketing scheme, but not personally my own choice.
— Want to get married: if someone will pay for me to have a huge sinful wedding gown, then I’d do it. For the dress. Like this one:

Ian Stuart 'valentine'

— Believe in yourself: um. trick question?
— Get motion sickness: only on an empty stomach
— Think you’re attractive: rarely, especially these days, in my after-accident lethargy
— Think you’re a health freak: not militant enough to be labeled freak
— Get along with your parents: mum’s growing into a flake, but a happy one and that’s enough for me. I haven’t a father. He went insane.
— Like thunderstorms: as many as possible. (ghods I miss TO lightning!)
— Play an instrument: the french horn. so obscure, yet a pop icon. how trite of me.

LAYER SIX:
In the past month . . .
— Drank alcohol: no
— Smoked: n/a
— Done a drug: sugar + love + joy = euphoric
— Had sex: y
— Made out: y
— Gone on a date: um… no?
— Gone to the mall?: no
— Eaten an entire box of Oreos: hmmm. do I get milk with that?
— Eaten sushi: *shudders*
— Been on stage: well – on stages, yes – I do work in theatre.
— Been dumped: there was an attempt. as I recall it broke two guitars…
— Gone skating: no
— Made homemade cookies: y
— Gone skinny dipping: not for years
— Dyed your hair: *sniffles* no
— Stolen anything: stole kisses. hah

LAYER SEVEN:
Ever . . .
— Played a game that required removal of clothing: planning on it. Got m’love strip-chocolate for our 2 year anniversary but haven’t had time to try it yet.
— Been trashed or extremely intoxicated: never
— Been caught doing something?: um… what?
— Been called a tease: sure
— Gotten beaten up: well – they tried.
— Shoplifted: yes
— Changed who you were to fit in: no

LAYER EIGHT:
— Age you hope to be married: what an odd question
— Numbers and Names of Children: numbers! ahahaah. Yes, my first little girl will be named 6457.
— Describe your Dream Wedding: after I go play with barbie, right?
— How do you want to die: after seeing enough of the world and achieving enough to be satisfied
— Where you want to go to college: n/a
— What do you want to be when you grow up: my answer to this has always been “taller”, but I’m fairly sure I’ve stopped growing upwards. Now I don’t have an answer.
— Country would you most like to visit: erm.. England?

LAYER NINE:
In a guy/girl . . .
— Best eye color? I fell in love with gold eyes once. Golden eyes and redblack hair.
— Best hair color? for some reason dark hair frames faces better for me. (damn my natural blonde. yech)
— Short or long hair: up to them, isn’t it?
— Height: um.. see above
— Best weight: healthy
— Best articles of clothing: I am not undersatnding these questions.
— Best first date location: ditto
— Best first kiss location: um – wherever it happens, wouldn’t it be?

LAYER TEN:
— Number of drugs taken illegally: I accidently took some of an adults acid when I was a child, and I’ve been around enough potsmokers to have inhaled a fair share, (this is bc, after all), so.. 2
oh – and frankie tried to put something in my drink, but it didn’t work apparently due to my consumption of aroange juice, so… 2 1/2?
— Number of people I could trust with my life: I suppose any of my close friends, though it would strongly depend on what we were doing. I wouldn’t trust, say, Marissa flying the same way I would trust Ray.
— Number of CDs that I own: maybe 20?
— Number of piercings: one in my left ear, hopefully this friday I will add onto that a tiny one on my nosey.
— Number of tattoos: none
— Number of times my name has appeared in the newspaper?: um… lots
— Number of scars on my body: no clue
— Number of things in my past that I regret: not many. a winter.

for rent again

My partner, Bill, and I have the top floor of the house for rent. Bill is a musician and sound designer for television, film, and theatre, so be warned – we have a studio in the basement, complete with drum kit, which can become loud. As the space is the top floor, this has not been a problem, but just thought I should let you know. *grins* Also – his tap dance troup comes over sporadically to practice.

It’s $400/month, plus 1/3 utilities. There are two rooms, both with built in bookshelves, a large yard with giant cherry trees, (and parking pads, if you’ve a vehicle), and lots of storage. It works out that we share kitchen, bathroom, & livingroom, but each have a room to ourselves.

There are shops nearby, mostly chinese food stores, a Value Village, and a mostly organic supermarket 10 min walk away. We are on the Langara bus route and are 20 min max to downtown by transit. We have pets, (cat + chinchilla), but sadly cannot accept any more furry creatures into the home, unless they’re the sort what live in tiny cages.

Um… I can’t think of what else to say, so I guess that’s my blurb. If you have any question PLEASE feel free to ask.

Thanks,

~jhayne

The Psych Saga continues…

Latest update says our roommate isn’t coming out. They’re going to be shipping him straight to another institution, down in the states. Likelyhood says we’ll have to pack his stuff for him and either some of his family will come up from Vancouver, Washington, and pick it up, or we’ll be given monies to ship it down to them.
Going upstairs the other day found a small bag full of marijuana, which we confiscated, (nurses say it could be a trigger), and an air pistol, which we are also holding for in case he comes back. The other found was writing. There’s messed up little quotes all over the walls, including the crazy persons preriquisite end-of-the-world bible quotes. The scribbles on the back of his door are creepy and mostly illegible. I’m going to take pictures, and then I suppose I’ll have to paint.

Psych Ward

I went to visit my roomate in the psych assesment unit last night. It was a bad ending to a long day. A film crew had been set up at my mothers house – some sure-to-be-awful sitcom about a man taking care of his family after death. I liked the streetlamps they put up on the street, and we did get some candy, but still. Effectively locked in a hhouse from 2 in the afternoon till eight:thirty with four hyperactive, badly behaived shriek monkeys is not my idea of being worth twenty dollars and some free candy.

The hospital was empty and creepy. I suppose they always sort of are when there’s no-one in the hallways. Long off-white corridors full of closed doors. Mysterious signs full of abbreviations and odd lettter combinations.

The security gave me directions and escorted me partway there. I’m not sure if he was worried if I would be lost or if I was there to wander. Either option I find amusing, but neither terribly interesting. The nurses at the desk were surprised to see me. I assume visitora are rare at night and never enter with purple tophats.

I was slightly frisked, told to not give anyone my housekeys and led to an alcove with a couch and a TV blaring a war movie. Marshall was sitting absorbed by the men in green jeeps, he started when I spoke.

“Rots your brain you know”

He seemed overwhelmed to see me, but I couldn’t say if he was more stable than he was when he went in. Obsessed with leaving, he was indirect and refused, obliquely, to answer my questions. He could not have spent the past few days in as much ignorance as he professed.

“It was like, until I was strapped down to a bed, I couldn’t hear my voice in my head”

Hand movements accompany everything, and a nurse watches from down the hall. If I’m to find anything out, I’m going to need a medical release, and I have couched my explanation of this to Marshall in the most flattering terms possible. I have lied by omittance, but only just. I need this information, I need to know what’s happening and asking point-blank will get me nowhere.

We walk to the front desk, where his desire to leave flames stronger. Never asking directly, he sidles up to the idea, as if he can trick the nurse into giving him a release. I put on record that we will allow him back into our home and I prompt Marshall to give us confidentiality. To my relief, that is also put in the book.

A man wanders by and brushes his afro, using a wall as if it’s a mirror. Afterwards, as we sit and talk over a game of memory, the same man comes by and tries the same trick on my hat. The fact that Marshall introduces me to his, ‘friend’, does not make me feel any more comfortable. I think that I am lucky that nonchalant is one of my skills.

Today, I called the nurse, and she told me more than anyone else so far. Though they’re giving him Olanzapine, (my detectiving, not hers), they have not diagnosed him with schizophrenia. In fact, they haven’t a diagnosis at all yet. The theory cutrrently running seems to be a mental breakdown relating from malnutrition and stress, though they are uncertain, and still doing tests.

All of this has me worried. His grandmother has phoned, and his aunt. I’m to call them later today, after the doctor has seen him. He is not coming home until I say so. I don’t want this responsibility. I don’t want to be worried about who I live with. This is not my friend, this is not an important person. This is not what I want to be thinking about.