10 chansons préférées

Oh…je sais, je sais, celle-là…Okay attends…Euh…Me semble que je l’aimais celle-là ?…Oh boy, qu’est-ce que ça va dire de moi…ah oui, celle-là…Bref, ça doit faire 20 minutes que je regarde ce que j’ai sur itunes. Okay, là, ça fait une heure…

Bon, j’ai 28 chansons que j’aime vraiment beaucoup. Je vais tricher et en metter 10 sur mon autre blog, héhé.

Voyons voir…J’ai pas le choix, ça me prend une liste de chansons anglos et une liste de chansons francos.

Je dois dire que je suis étonnée de voir que la plupart des chansons ont rapport avec mes ex ou avec mon enfance.

  1. If I Were Your Woman / Gladys Knight and the Pips : Quand j’ai découvert cette toune-là, je la chantais plusieurs fois de suite par jour, à tue-tête, bien sûr. C’était pendant ma période de célibat et des chasteté, je pense.
  2. Dreams / Fleetwood Mac : Cette chanson-là a marqué ma vingtaine. Je me rappelle la première fois où je l’ai entendue. C’était dans la chambre d’un de mes colocs. On était une gang à écouter de la musique pendant qu’ils fumaient. M.T. était là et cette chanson-là va toujours me faire penser à lui. Quand je l’écoute, j’ai l’impression qu’il pleut. La chanson a été reprise par The Corrs sur un disque hommage à Fleetwood Mac, Legacy.
  3. Like it or not / Madonna : C’est la chanson de mon indépendance et de mes phases Fuck You. J’adore cette chanson-là parce que ça met des mots sur ce que je pense : Je suis qui je suis, that’s it.
  4. Sarasa / Susheela Raman : C’est la chanson qui a fait que je me suis mise à écouter les disques de Putumayo et la musique internationale.
  5. If You Were a Carpenter / Dolly Parton & Joe Nichols : J’ai plusieurs versions de cette chanson, mais celle-ci est celle que je préfère parce qu’elle est enjouée. Quand j’étais petite, Ma Soeur et moi étions fascinées par Dolly Parton…je vous laisse deviner pourquoi. C’est une version country et ça doit me venir de mon père qui trippe country.
  6. One / Johnny Cash : J’avais demandé à Y. de me faire des CD et j’ai écouté ces cd-là à répétition et je trouvais des messages cachés partout. J’aurais donc aimé que Y. m’ait choisi ces chansons-là pour m’envoyer un message pour vrai…Quand je veux penser à lui, j’écoute ses CD. J’étais surprise de trouver cette chanson-là dans ses compilations…punk. J’avais aimé la version de U2, mais celle de Johnny Cash est émouvante à cause de sa voix. Frissons.
  7. Way Back into Love / Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore : Oui, je suis quétaine. Mais, bon, j’aime les comédies romantiques et j’aime Drew Barrymore et pendant ma période de célibat, le soundtrack de Music and Lyrics m’a donné de l’espoir et de la joie.
  8. Anyone at all / Carol King : Encore une chanson de trame sonore. Je trippe sur Meg Ryan et j’ai écouté You’ve Got Mail mille fois. C’est la chanson de la fin du film et elle me faisait pleurer chaque fois. Je m’en fous de déjà savoir la fin. C’est comme si la fin pouvait changer, on sait jamais. Alors quand la toune jouait et que je voyais arriver Tom Hanks avec son chien…je braillais. Et je pensais à mes ex que j’aurais aimé aimer plus longtemps. Pis ça me donne l’impression d’être dans The Sound of Music. Allez savoir.
  9. It Wouldn’t Have Made Any Difference / Todd Rundgren : Ah cette chanson-là je l’associe aux ruptures, ça me rend triste. Je l’ai découverte dans le film Almost Famous, un de mes films préférés. Et son autre chanson qui me rend triste je l’associe à l’amitié entre hommes et femmes. J’ai découvert Can we still be friends ? par le film Vanilla Sky.
  10. Slingshots / Morley : Celle-là vient de la trame sonore de Felicity, la série télé. J’avais une période de déprime et Felicity m’amenait dans cet état-là, le genre de funk où je descendais quand je pensais à mes ex. C’était dans la vingtaine et j’étais encore plus nostalgique que maintenant.
  1. Toutes les chances / Mara Tremblay : Au travail, j’écoutais souvent Espace Musique et j’ai découvert Mara tremblay comme ça. Eh bien, cette chanson, me fait penser à mon chum. Amourrrr. Je passe mon temps à penser à toi…J’ai toutes les chances d’échapper mon coeur.
  2. Les oreillons / Tricot Machine : C’est une amie qui m’a fait écouter ça pendant qu’on passait du temps à son chalet et il a fallu que je me retienne de pleurer quand j’ai écouté cette chanson-là. Je pensais à C. mais, je ne suis jamais passée proche de lui dire…mais, j’ai pensé à Y., à M., à ma solitude. Ça fait cent fois que je me rends pas à ton oreille…cent fois que j’t’le dis pas…Grosse émotions.
  3. Fais-moi une place / Julien Clerc : J’ai fait mon spectacle de ballet sur cette chanson quand j’avais six ou sept ans. Mais, c’est le Troll qui est venu me chercher dans les trippes avec ça. C’était tellement pathétique et triste que j’ai craqué. Je pense que c’est la seule fois où il a été honnête et vulnérable avec moi.
  4. Je suis venue te dire que je m’en vais / Carmen Consoli : La soeur de H. est revenue d’Italie avec le CD de carmen Consoli dans ses valises. Je comprends rien à l’Italien mais cette chanson en français a frappé juste. Pour la salope en moi qui a cassé avec bien des hommes sans me retourner…hum. A aussi été chantée par Jane Birkin ainsi que  par Jo Lemaire.
  5. Je m’appelle Solitude / Romane Serda : J’étais curieuse d’entendre le CD de la blonde de Renaud et j’ai été enchantée. Et toute pognée. Aime-moi, aime-moi comme si tu m’avais inventée…Je pensais à l’homme que je voulais rencontrer quand j’écoutais ça.
  6. Montréal / Ariane Moffatt : Encore le Troll. J’avais le coeur qui volait dans ma poitrine quand j’écoutais la chanson qui me faisait vivre l’espoir pendant qu’il était en voyage. Elle est restée une chanson que j’aime parce qu’elle est joyeuse. J’ai des visions d’aéroports ensoleillés.
  7. Saskatchewan / Trois Accords : Okay c’est niaiseux les chansons des Trois Accords, mais je ne peux pas résister à celle-ci. Pathétique, évocatrice, triste. Bouhou.
  8. Et si tu n’existais pas / Doba Caracol : La version est encore mieux que celle de Joe Dassin. Une chanson qui me fait penser à J. D. La chanson des peines d’amour, du romantisme.

Je ne sais plus quoi choisir.

Le Voisin d’en bas

She moved in with some roommates in a very big apartment. Proud about being on her own. Thinking about putting things in their places, about getting along with her new rommies.

Then he was there, the Downstairs Neighbour. Smoking pot with one of the roommies. She didn’t care, really, as long as noone bothered her. But he did by sitting in her room on an empty milk crate that she needed to make a bookcase. He was interested in her he said.

He made her nervous but she didn’t know why. She kept herself far from him. She told him that she was with someone. And she was. She thought. They had slept together which meant something to her and he said he would call her back which she believed. Even though she had no news after two weeks, she truly believed they were together.

So she pushed the Downstairs Neighbour away. Then the one she trusted enough to sleep with finally came to the phone one night and told her he was moving in with his ex, no they weren’t coming back together but they would live together. No he and her weren’t together and they would not see each other anymore.

She was devastated. She cried and she was so hurt, her heart felt ripped apart. That weekend she barely ate and barely slept listening to the Cranberries non stop. Once again the Downstairs Neighbour came up to smoke weed and while he was there he drifted in her room. He asked her out again and she said no and no and no inventing excuses until she had no more. She just didn’t care. No one loved her anyway so since he said they wouldn’t go very far she agreed.

Being outside hurt her. How could people still live their lives ? They walked a bit to a bar not far from their triplex. She said she didn’t drink beer or wine or anything with alcohol. In fact, she wasn’t thirsty, she wanted to go back home.

He insisted she drank only a bit of beer. He went to the bar and came back with a beer and a glass into which he had already poured some beer. She wanted to go back home and she hated the taste of beer. She wished he would bring her back. It was dark. She suddenly felt fuzzy.

She doesn’t remember walking or floating or swimming back to her room. But there they were together in her bed while she was thinking that she didn’t want to do this. This isn’t what she wanted, she wanted none of this. She had said no, she wasn’t interested.  Didn’t she ? How had they gotten out of their clothes ?

She was doing things she didn’t even know she could do and she didn’t feel a thing, everything was blurry. He wasn’t kissing her, was telling her what to do and like a puppet afraid of having her cords cut she obeyed.

When it was over he slept while she lay there open-eyed zombie-like. The Cranberries were playing in the background while tears rolled down her cheeks. He must have woken up and left but she wasn’t « there ».

For weeks or months he came back to do what he wanted. At this point she was broken. She didn’t see the point of saying no since he had already gotten his way that first time.

He never kissed her, never said anything flattering, talked about his girlfriend in Quebec and his son that he had by accident. She cried while he slept listening to the same tape over and over wishing she was dead. She was too afraid to say anything and was ashamed.

She wanted to die and got used to crossing the street without looking, watching the subway coming through and almost jumping, or calculating heights and velocity.

One day, she met someone who took interest. And she knew that she wasn’t worthy. Things had to change. She didn’t know how and she was really afraid of being hurt. She asked him to stay awake. If she screamed he would have to come in her room without knocking. If everything was okay she would see him next morning or a couple of days after.

She hoped the Downstairs Neighbour wouldn’t come. He always found a way to come in. If at first he just came in by the front door left unlocked because there was always someone home, since the roommates started locking it (even if it meant less business for her drug dealer roomie) he came in by the indoor stairs that connected the two apartments. One of the roomie had tried locking it but the Downstair Neighbour had threatened to climb her balcony.

He just appeared in her room at night. She would be asleep and he would be there already undressing or sitting on her bed.

But he showed up that night and she found in her new love interest the courage to whisper « no ». When he asked what she had said she just repeated the word. Inside her everything was so tense. Her throat was parched, her palms were sweating, her heart was beating like a drum and was so loud she hardly heard what he was saying.

He was standing there, hesitating, he had already started to undress. He took his things and went and never came bac to her surprise and relief.

Next morning she said thanks to the guy that gave her courage to stand up for herself for the first time in a very long time. When he asked why she was saying thank you she just said that him being there had made a big difference the night before.

She would still very sensitive to noises outside her door for many years and would be very nervous about moving in alone. Letting doors open, especially balcony doors, would get a lot of getting used to and no kissing would become a red flag.

Mai 1995 : Histoire d’amour ordinaire

In everybody’s life there is this moment where we could have said something but didn’t.

I had a whole relationship like this. I don’t even know if it was a relationship because nothing was ever said.

I was 20 when we met. His name is Martin and he was the friend of one my roommates. I had three male roommates : Nicolas, David and Alexandre. Stéphanie also lived with us, she and I had classes together.

I had quite a crush on Martin. He was « different ». He didn’t smoke pot anymore (my roommates all smoked pot; I didn’t) and didn’t drink as much as the others. While I did my homework at the kitchen table he would come to see me and talk or he would tell me about his poetry. I didn’t really like poetry but I was moved by what he wrote and was flattered he would talk to me about it.

We were very different. I was straight. Ordinary clothes, mainly jeans, hair in a ponytail. I didn’t feel worthy of his attention and had pushed aside any idea about us coming together. I didn’t see myself talking to him about it and didn’t think he was interested. He wore his hair very long, wore a kilt with army boots and heavy metal t-shirts. This was very new to me. He played the guitar.

The fact is he was working with Alexandre and was sleeping at the apartment a lot. I was so happy to see him often. When he wasn’t there I missed him, something was missing.

I started seeing someone else since I didn’t think he was interested and I really did think it was silly of me to be infatuated with him. Experience had taught me that having strong emotions for someone wasn’t good, nothing good came out of it.

But we started becoming close and ended sleeping together. I had to end my other relationship which was going nowhere fast. I didn’t really like the guy, I just felt lonely and wanted to empty my mind of Martin.

It was the happiest time of that year and of many years. He made me laugh, I felt close to him. I don’t remember us talking much. I remember nothing of what he said except that he came from l’Annonciation and that his ex’s name was Julia. I remember the feeling of his arms around me and his hair on my skin. I remember a feeling of being in « the zone » with him.

He used to wait for me in my room, in the dark and I would find him alone in the dark sitting on my bed as I came home from work, exhausted. I was always so happy to see him.

We would walk together and sit on a bench on Saint-Hubert street. We would look at each other ready to speak then say nothing. We just couldn’t I guess. I know I couldn’t say « I love you ». I just couldn’t.

My life at that time was so complicated. I was being diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I had ended more than one relationship that year because I had moved to Montreal, I was always very sad. All I wanted was to die or to become a nun. None of those were an option.

I repeated to myself countless times that I wasn’t in love. It was just for fun.

End of term came, he went home to his parent’s place and he said he would call. He didn’t.

He came back after many weeks of absence. I had been hoping but was drowning. We went walking and came back to my place. He went away again and didn’t call even if he said he would.

I was very sad and kept repeating to myself I wasn’t in love. When he came back at the apartment, all the roommates had changed except for Stéphanie and my boyfriend was living with me. I was torn. I did the girl who didn’t care but I wanted to go away with him. He went away and never came back.

He disappeared.

I looked for him everywhere unconsciously. My heart would leap when I would see a long-haired young man in a crowd. I would see him in a bus window, in the subway. I would think of him and see him on the street.

One day, six years later, I told my story for the first time to a sexologist. I cried and I kept telling I wasn’t in love. Really ? she asked. I think you are.

I cried and cried and said that yes I did love him. To say it made me stop mourning for those few months and I stopped looking for Martin.

I don’t have this hole in my chest anymore but when I am on Facebook or on Reunion I still try to find him. I’m kind of happy I don’t. He probably has a wife, kids, the whole deal.

He had the most wonderful smile.

Tu pourrais être aussi aimable qu’un requin, qu’un tigre ou qu’un alligator

Things you should know about me in words so they register better or so you can come back and read them again and  again and again. I kept thinking about our talk and I had trouble thinking and I wonder if I should send you this…

1)    I’m an early bird. I bounce all around and right now, Sunday morning at 9 o’clock I listen to R&B music.
2)    I HATE heavy metal and techno music. I tried and it didn’t work. The closest I come to heavy metal is punk and I just have two burned CD a friend made me. He knew what I would like. It has been 6 or 7 years and I still love those CDs.
3)    I have every kinds of music besides that. Kind of. Practically no CDs, it’s all in my computer.
4)    I come from a fucked up family. I have not been to my hometown since last year for My Sister’s birthday. Seeing her made me itch all over, scrich, scrich. I asked my parents to see me outside the parental house, places without alcohol.
5)    My real father and mother and Sister are alcoholics. So are my uncles, on both sides and so were my grandfathers on both sides. My little sister is not yet and I hope she won’t be, I hope I’m a better influence. I have other fucked up stuff of my own she can take from though.
6)    I never took drugs by choice. I never will, don’t want to.
7)    I lived with a dealer. He was a roommie and he offered but even if I came close I said no.
8)    I had another roommie who always told her druggie stories and hearing any drug story or drinking story makes me very uneasy because I am the one suffering from people getting drunk or high. They do stupid stuff, don’t remember they have a life and people who care about them and squish them like a bug. Like the time my mom told me it was my fault she drank this much when I was there because she wanted to know if I still loved her the morning after. She was way past the drunk stage. If didn’t feel guilty that my parents split up when I was little, and they drank…that did it.
9)    My Sister was also a coke head. No explanations needed here.
10)    I am trying to change my life and have been going to a therapist for the last two years because coming from a family of weird and unstable individuals who can’t take care of themselves and who are violent and mean has affected every aspect of my life. I needed to talk and find solutions.
11)    I only drink when I feel safe.
12)    I don’t feel safe easily.
13)    My apartment is my nest and there is not a lot of people allowed inside. Sometimes it takes years to become my friend and to come to my place.
14)    I have known my share of psychopaths and I am always checking for signs. So if my eyes are focused and my face is set and I’m pretty intense, you can bet I’m in computer mode, analyzing you and checking if you’re safe to be around or if you’re gonna go psycho on me.
15)    I don’t like to be touched. It sends an alarm signal all the way up my spine through my head and skin. I can’t be touched without all my being taking notice and screaming. I may not tell the other about it until the person does it too often. Only boyfriends and female friends can touch me without triggering the alarm. They do but I try to calm the alarm. I guess that having violent parents does that.
16)    It’s just a thing I have about my own security. People don’t seem to get that touching is personal and even if it’s nice to hug and touch, between men and women friends it is ackward to do so and sends messages about romance or sex unless they’re gay.
18)    Yeah, I know my boundaries are HUGE.
19)    I am not attracted easily and don’t fall in love easily. I don’t trust people who find me attractive and likable. It means they are going to do something mean, hurtful. People that love me are usually the ones that hurt me the most. I am not going through this every time I meet someone.
20)    I guess people like me at work because I don’t crowd them and they tell me stuff and I don’t blab. I don’t go back asking if they feel better about their rape, harassment, invasion by parasites, whatever. I never get why people trust me with stories like that because, really, I only talk about what I don’t care about like coming from an alcoholic family. It’s dealt with so it doesn’t mean I trust them. I am not putting myself out there.
21)    Plus, I’m confrontational, pig-headed, I talk too much about taboo subjects, I have no class. I make them think too much. They go back home with way too many questions.
22)    My cat is the man of my life : big, hairy and he takes half the bed.
23)    I am single by choice because I seem to attract men with problems and I want to break the cycle so when I find the right guy I will go for it. Men with problems : smokes or eats pot every day, drinks too much, impotent, only wants sex, only wants sex a certain way, obsessive-compulsive, nesting habit from ebay, works way too much, mean, violent verbally, jealous, sees other women « as friends » (AH), wants an open relationship, manipulative, sexually harassing with women, treats me like dirt and worse, sexually harasses my stuffed bunny by trying to stuff it himself. Oh there is also addiction to TV and computer or motorized vehicle. I really do mean addiction here. Oh there is also the communication thing. There is none.
24)    Those men usually don’t cook, don’t clean, have to be taught about hygiene both body and house and have very few physical activities…what a waste.
25)    Unless I specifically ask for something, I don’t want to receive something when all I said is « I need », « I don’t have the money to buy », « What a cute… ». Saying those things doesn’t mean I want someone to buy them for me. It makes me feel guilty, cheap and like I owe the other for services.
26)    I am fully capable of taking care of myself. I am no plumber and I can’t build wood furniture unless they come in a box from Ikea but I don’t need to be saved. Expecting a guy to save me, or always be there just ends up being deceiving because  no one can be there forever.
27)    I may look small or fragile, whatever what I look like from a guy’s point of view, but I am not. I am not a tank either and that’s why I don’t want to hear horror stories. I lived through enough and I know too much of the world already. I am afraid all the time of coming face to face with people of my past or to have to live through with another chapter of pain, I don’t want to hear your stories of addiction and of glorification of criminal activities. It’s not fair to me.
28)    But I do volunteering with kids where they tell secrets. That way I can offer solutions and be there. No one was there for me, I can be there for them.
29)    In a fight or flight situation I used to have the freeze reaction. Later I had the fight reaction and I was very depressed, burnt out and that’s what got me in therapy. Now, I fly away. If there’s sign of trouble I don’t want to be there.
30)    If you don’t want me to tell the police or anyone, don’t tell me because if they ask questions I can’t lie. It takes me very much energy to say to an ordinary person that I don’t want to talk about it. To the police I won’t lie even if I don’t like them and don’t trust them. I’m gonna tell.
31)    I don’t take baths (I take showers), don’t wear frilly underwear and don’t look like a supermodel. I don’t even come close to girls in your tattoo magazine so it’s no use imagining.
32)    I am NOT gonna have tattoos on me. My real dad and uncles have tattoos and My Sister have some. I am not ! I feel it would be playing oui-ja with my body.
33)   I am no fairy princess, you are no Lancelot. There will be no chivalry.
34)   Pet names, sweeties, deary, honey and other such names are for lovers or parents and their child. I am NOT anyone’s sweetheart. I have always hated being called by other names than my own except by really sweet older women because they were always nicer than my mother.
35)   I’m threatening of smacking you behind the head (like a cat) would but I can’t hurt people without being provoked. And I will not practice with you because I’m scared, it makes me have flashbacks.
36)   You are likable and sweet. Yes, I detected someone like me behind the tough exterior. It could be my overactive imagination, the patterns as usual telling me that something dangerous has to be taken care of like alligators and tigers and sharks. There will be a safe distance between our different  sweetness. Even if there are similarities in our histories.
37) My brain is like a computer that registers information you send it. I registered that you are breaking up with your girlfriend. I am refusing to be the plaster girl. I will not be the flirt that consoles your broken heart. I know it has been decided months ago bla bla. But I know how anger, resentment, sadness comes back up when one is alone in a new apartment. How the solitude gnaws at someone. I do not believe you are over her. So I will not be the scotch tape that repairs the parts of your heart that are falling apart. I will be there to talk and laugh but that’s all there will be.

Once you realize that I’m serious and I will not fall into your arms, that I resist this pattern of mine, you will go away like the others or you will become as dangerous as you can or as mean as you can be.

After all, friendship and love are similar. At first there is the idealization phase where the other is « the same, perfect and can do no wrong ». Why do you think I destroy everything you think is the same ? Why do you think I put those differences between us ? So you don’t go on that cloud and stay here with me, aware of me, of you and really become a friend and not a guy in love.

Self Interview 5, chiffre chanceux

So. What a week heh ?

Gee, you think ?

Don’t be snippy with me young woman.

Sorry. Yes it was quite a week. It made me realize once again how « active » my life has been.

How so ?

Grumble. People have been telling me : »Again ? » As in I am once again in the clutches of a  Villain. But this time, I will escape unharmed.

You are being evasive. Are you trying to escape my questions also ?

Maybe.

Why ?

It is hard to talk about difficult things like villains.

Start…by the beginning.

I don’t want to say everything. People around me  say that  Facebook and blogs and everything on the net is very  much about exhibitionism and voyeurism.

Do you agree ?

Well, yes. And I do participate to a certain degree. I approve of it to a point. I like reading about people and I like writing about me. I am pretty sure there is a portion of fiction or that  facts are missing from profiles and blogs. I do believe in honesty but I also believe in protecting ourselves.

Hum. So what happened this week, do you think it had something to do with your blog ?

I don’t know. Maybe it’s a combination of many things. For years I was keeping myself under radar. I don’t give my phone number easily and my address also. I don’t divulge my identity completely on web sites. But the last months I used my real name so my Godfather would find me easily if he wanted to and I was on a lot of web sites. I have created other email accounts, blogs, profiles in sites similar to facebook. Maybe someone who reads my blog, someone who saw me on facebook just went crazy. Maybe someone I used to know recognized me on a web site. Or maybe it’s my ex-roommate. Or someone else.

Why would it be your Ex-Roommate from Hell ?

Mini-Voldemort has been convicted for harassment Friday and all my passwords were cracked and changed between Friday 5pm and Sunday 7pm. He is awaiting psychiatric evaluation. He was my colleague also and I arranged for girls at work to talk to the boss about harassment at work : did they feel harassed by him or not, how, etc. Things were a bit tense at home and way weird. Oh and he is a computer technician.

Hum. Okay.

Yeah.

How are you feeling ?

So tired. When it happened I just wanted it all to end, just go away. All I was thinking was : »WHY does it always happen to me ?? » Because it does. Now after a couple of days, crying the first night I went to bed, being really stressed the second day and having cold hands and wet feet the other days, I just always check people around me. I’m less « heart-pounding-fist-clenching-palm-sweating-throat-constricting ». Going to the police and outing how scared I was made a difference. Plus I have been focusing on other stuff like volunteering and meeting the lady responsible of the volunteers. I take time to relax with my cat also just like a crazy cat lady. Oh and I have had to write to every web site and convince them to help me to have my accounts back so I could change my passwords and my identities. Very time consuming. So I wrote all my friends and family that I had changed emails. Then I responded their worried emails (those who wrote back).

Oh ! many wrote back ?

No. Of course not. Just an Ex who is becoming a good friend, a friend who is living her own dramas (we share our soap opera lives) and…one facebook friend. I shared the story with colleagues.

Aren’t you worried the maniac is around you ?!

Kind of. But if the Maniac is around me I want him or her to know that the police is involved and that when I found the SOB who has done this I am SO GOING to KICK HIS or HER ASSSSSSS !!!

WOuhOU !!

Indeed.