It could still surprise ya...

By Friday I was worn out. A week of not sleeping had left me feeling thin, and all I could think of when I got out of bed Friday morning was how in eight hours I could return to it. Boy was I wrong.

Arriving home, my desire to nap was waning, replaced by an even stronger desire to go out. Which is troublesome in these parts, when people make plans and many don't share my love of beer and associated good times. But I tried. And I failed.

So up to the video store, I rented 'crappy' movies and flirted with the cute sales-guy, figuring that if that was all the action I was getting, I should probably capitalize on it while I could.

The night may have been a non-starter at that point, but I had given up hope in Vancouver managing to be a late-starter. Turns out, the city can still surprise me. Diegs turned up after work, we picked up his friend, and after several shots we traipsed downtown to the Cambie. The line flew by, we drank far too much and stumbled awkwardly home.

3am found us back at mine, my brother passed out on the front steps and myself being the most sober of the group. Which is a pretty scary thought. After putting him to bed I put myself to bed. The night officially ended the next day when he walked into my bedroom at 9am to find me not alone. Which actually might be the beginning (finally) of a nice summer fling thing. Who knows, he is definately the nicest boy I have met in a long time.

Slow day at the orifice

Okay so every time I think of the word office, I kind of replace it in my head with the word orifice. Its just funnier that way, in fact, it makes everything funnier. So, its a slow day today at the orifice. So slow. The whole week has been slow but this is, like, obscenely slow. Slow to the point that I don't feel I'll be reprimanded for typing this right now. I suspect that my coworkers (neither of whose screens are in plain view) are doing similar things with their time. The difference being that my screen is in sight... and honestly, what else would I be typing right now? I've already spent the morning writing emails.

I feel somewhat guilty... being here and not working per se, but I am also fairly broke. I don't know where my money goes... rather... I do know and prefer not to think about it. I have been really good lately though, not having spent much while away in Cuba and keeping this week's budget to about $20 thus far. I'm hoping that the weekend will prove to be as low-cost.

Still haven't managed to deal with either of my aborted flings... frankly I'd rather just ignore them until they deal with themselves. Easier that way really.

I can't think of anything else to rabbit on about, even though ending this post will return me to my stint at the photocopier or to staring blankly at nothing trying to look busy. Yeah.

Its back, with a vengeance...

Oh yeah, its back. I thought I was doing okay, that everything was going well and that I was managing somehow to keep myself from losing my 'new self' and regressing to the way things used to be. Boy was I wrong.

Suddenly it fell upon me, the sensation of being slowly squeezed in a vice. Feeling like I can't breathe, can't have some space to myself, can't get out of being constantly prejudged, expected and scorned. The sense of not being liked, constantly being looked upon in a negative light. It is so tiring. Already I am counting days, weeks, hours almost until I can have a break. And the guilt! The constant sense of guilt and self-loathing. No wonder I was a headcase when I was younger! But even knowing now what is going on doesn't give me the power to stop it, I still cannot control these changes.

And all belief that I could somehow manage to go back later on, that this wasn't the last time, that belief is gone. The brightness of who I used to be is fading frighteningly fast. I need to call JJK, call Numoy, call Julia and Curly to remind me... but none of them are at my fingertips, they are countries, continents, worlds away. They are gone for all intents and purposes, are no longer in my life.

So what can I do? Now that I am older and pray to god wiser? I count to ten and exhale and hope that I don't break, that I can maintain this for a little while longer, and still hang onto myself.

Back to all grinds

Its not that I have a problem with the time. I wouldn't really be doing anything productive anyways, and while the location of the time within the middle of my day is somewhat depressing, that's not the worst either. What I do miss is having some silence, some time where there isn't anyone here but me, and I call the shots. I cook when I want, nobody is trying to figure out what is going on, I can sit up here until I feel like coming down, and when I get sick of being there I can go somewhere else. I need the space to breathe.

So I am going to disappear through dinner and reappear when it is late enough that people will take to their respective beds, and I can sit on my balcony with the bugs, read my book, cook tasty food and maybe get high and eat chocolate while watching Dawson's Creek. Yeah.

I feel like such a horrid, ungrateful bitch though, because of course they just want to help. But even that feels so invasive, and I don't know why. I'm also really stressed about my body and the way I look right now, which is stupid and frustrating because I really shouldn't care. I had a rotten day and I am feeling stressed in general. Mondays suck. Hopefully some exercise will help improve my mood.

Electric

So I am tired, and it is late. I don't have time to post the tale, nor do I wish to do so at this juncture, with so little reflection and so little energy. I want to talk about Cuba, but right now I will just talk about how I am feeling.

Forewarning, this is cheesy. Any among you who can't handle love-at-first-sight romantic-style cheese should bail now. Don't say I didn't warn you. At the time, it felt very sincere and potently real. I lived through a movie, and have come out the other side. It was incredible, perhaps the singlemost dirty-romantic night of my life.

We had noticed each other right away, almost as soon as I arrived. Our eyes met. We were both with family. Strange, he wasn't necessarily the best looking guy around, but something about him drew me. It took me two days (and god, now how sorry I am that it took so long) for either of us to get up the courage to seek out the other, although I will say, to my credit, I looked for him constantly.

Last night at dinner I had given up on him. I walked out of the restaurant and came face to face, our eyes locked for several seconds. He smiled. "Hi, how are you?" Funny. I am sometimes eloquent to the point of incessant, but somehow, anytime we spoke that night I found myself walking away with things unsaid. I could talk to him, sure, but I never said the things I wanted to say, the things that should have been said.

Again, walking to get a drink before the show, we somehow crossed paths again. And again, my words were lost between us. I got his name. Muttered something unintelligible about being there with my mother. He nodded, "I've noticed." Asked if I would be around later and I said I would find him.

Later that night, too late now, oh god why did I spend an hour at the bar feeling too shy?! Later that night I sat down with him, and the world disappeared. We talked for hours. The chemistry was electric. I wanted to know him, to understand. I have always believed in lust at first sight, sure we had that too, but this urge to know, to speak, to hear who he was and why... that was new, inexplicable and overwhelming. He was the same way, asking me things I had never been asked, pushing to get a sense of who I was before it was too late. We rambled into the morning, walking towards the beach. He was fluent in three languages, I speak two, and somehow English was shared.

He looked so familiar to me, but I couldn't place why. I think that is one of my personal signs of a huge crush and potential lover, an awareness of their face beyond reason. For hours we had been holding hands, the need for physical contact was incredible, and when we finally kissed it was all proverbial fireworks and weak knees. Down onto the sand, and we shed our clothes and waded out past the sandbar, standing up to our waists in the sea. The moon was full, the scene so perfect I look back and laugh. Calm water, bright moonlight, the stars. The white sand stretched out behind us and nothing around for miles, faint lights behind the trees were the only sign that we were not alone in the world. It felt as if we were.

We both talked, muttering incoherent nothings to each other that felt so sincere and endlessly true. After a short eternity we were back on the beach, lying next to each other with our legs entwined, the sign of his faith felt cold on my chest. A carved stone cross. I couldn't let him go.

Just twelve hours later I was gone, he was gone. My email address pressed into his hand, a strong feeling as we kissed goodbye that our time wasn't up yet. I know, despite the odds, that I will see him again. Don't ask me how, I just do. I am so certain. When I left my best friends in the world in Montreal, friends I will see in just over a month, I didn't feel this sure. He and I are not over, our lives will remain somehow connected.

The details are meaningless. The point is how it all felt. Bizarre, so amazing, things that I thought I would never feel so quickly or intensely. I would have run away with him. I know that is insane, that none of this makes sense and maybe none of it should. Lust at first sight? Definitely. Love at first sight? I don't believe in it, or rather, I didn't. But perhaps that is the closest I will ever come.

And now? Right now I realize something, that this has finally brought me around past wanting to be with someone for the sake of it, past half-assed relationships and waiting for feelings to appear. I am not too old for sparks nor am I too experienced and jaded for romance and fireworks. Most importantly, I am not too far gone to believe that I won't fall in love. Now I think I have to end my somewhat uninspiring summer fling(s), because they cannot compare to what I shared with him in a night. And if its not electric it can't be worth it.

Right now I miss him.

My Spanish is better than I thought...

...but not as good as they seem to think it should be. A few words in Spanish and they fly, as if I am fluent, into rapid-fire Cuban. Its incredible. I speak a mixture of French and English, but nobody understands. Yesterday had a conversation in three languages. All I wish is to learn them, I hear these words and almost discern their meaning.

I haven't the time to describe this city, Havana, so old with so much to say. Change pours out of these streets, and the people move to a different call than the one we seem to hear.

I must go, a bus is waiting. Needless to say, this has been incredible so far.

Thursday is when the weekend starts, right?

You could have fooled me, Vancouvies don't necessarily start things the way some might. Right now? Maybe they are all still at the beach, living up the last of the day.

And albeit the fact that three hours later I was tucked safe and sound in bed, I had a good time. That's odd, I don't recall meeting strangers at the bar. How cryptic am I today?

And tonight? Tonight I am nervous, tonight I have a date. Today I got a phone call that made me feel guilty and sad. Later I walked down the street thinking about my ghosts. Do they ever really leave? I remember last September, feeling another ghost. He is gone now, flown far away and so far out of my life that no effort on my part could ever bring him back. His light is on. This ghost is not so easy to shake. His eyes haunt me, he smiles and I wonder if I'll ever have that smile again. I don't pine for him, there is no emotion in this the way there was before. Now it is just sadness, a mild pang of regret for what could have been. A wish for a second try.

But enough looking to the past, today I should look forward.

Not in a box

I have heard today that I finally have housing for next year. I am, in honour, going to finally open a new site for my blog of next year, which will be (hopefully) a little more user friendly.

I will not be living in a box, but in a house/apartment, and that makes me very happy.

Today was beautiful out, and I am feeling light.

Recap(aroo)

So, time for a brief recap of the evening. It was an impromptu date, totally unplanned and very unexpected. I believe it can be categorized as serendipity, which is a lovely word. On the topic, if you haven't seen the movie of the same name, do so now.

Bless Louie, and bless the french, I had a good time and now? Well, now I will see what comes about. I am more interested than I was/am with my proverbial "scratch", which was temporarily effective, but no JJ. Lets face it, I need more than a half-drunk (to whole drunk) Scratch.

So that's that I suppose. I have a date Friday and we'll just play things by ear.

Strange and Random

All I needed was a beer. I got more. And now to decisions, and so I will have to go to bed. Work tomorrow will hopefully not leave me so drained, as I have a date with cheap beer and cheaper atmosphere tomorrow night. Sante!

Smoked Stupid

So it has been a few days, I know, but very little has happened. Thursday night was a good time, but I feel like my companion did not enjoy herself as I did. Perhaps I should just stop worrying about other people having fun when we are out, but it is not the same unless we all have a blast. Dragged home and was stuck hanging out and getting high with my brother and his friend. Got to bed at four.

Friday was a wash, I don't even remember what I did with myself, although I think some if it may have been productive. Decided to take the weekend off from drinking, as Thursday did much more of a number on my body than it should have, which made me decide that all my drinking had maybe caught up with me. Rented movies and smoked a joint, watched Rock Star and 13 Going On 30.

Saturday we had a little wake'n'bake, watched south park all afternoon. That night, watched Save The Last Dance on TV and lots of episodes of Dawson's Creek on my computer. I am lame. Officially cracked when I ventured out at 11:00 at night to buy five cent candies. Sweet sour goodness.

The lack of content of this post is indicative of the fact that I have smoked myself stupid this weekend. Spent today in lovely company, catching up with one of my best and oldest friends. Now, now it is almost eleven, which means I am half an hour behind schedule, having decided to take myself to bed at 10:30 in an attempt to get a decent sleep before work tomorrow. That's right, I am finally getting some work. To be honest, I'd rather just sleep.

So much left to say

Last night we talked for hours, despite the fact that we had already talked for hours. Instead of getting better it just gets harder. I hear his voice and my chest tightens. His words on the screen, the excitement, the longing. What did we have? He is more reluctant than me, and we both know it is fruitless pain. He says he thinks the world of me, that I left such an impression on him, and all I can think is that I want more time. I wanted more time.

And who knows whether it would have been right if I had stayed. Surely, surely if things are meant to be then they will be. But I miss him, and I can feel him within me, and I can't believe how such a short time has turned into this. I scare myself.

I wonder if I should book a flight to go, if that would make things worse or better. But I know I want to see Curly, and Helen, and Jess and maybe others who might be back in town. So shouldn't I go? Shouldn't that make it worth it? For my birthday? Would I just be upset, broken again by having to leave? I want to go back so badly, but perhaps it is best to leave this in the past where it belongs. So maybe I will wait another few days, a week. This decision will be made eventually. I could go to Quebec for a few days, visit my friends there. Maybe stop over in Winnipeg... cross-country tour before I leave for a year. Do I want to turn twenty-two there? Do I want to see him ever again?

Take that Futureshop!

Today I successfully worked the system and got some goods from the man. Here's the story as transcribed to JJK over MSN, because I am too lazy to retype it correctly.

18 months ago I bought my mp3 player, it crapped out really fast and had to be replaced, so with the replacement I decided to buy a 2 year warranty. I have always been convinced that these warranties are bullshit... still am despite this little story. Proceeded to misplace the warranty receipt (or so I thought) and so when my player started causing the blue screen of death on my pc I thought all was lost... THEN I came home and found my warranty receipt in my room. Sweet. So today I called them up and asked the guy if I could come in and get a new one, he said sure, and to ask for him specifically (manager of the section). So I did, and he basically told me that he'd give me a new player for the same value ($200). So I pulled out a new samsung one for $229, and went to do the change.

The girl at the counter tells me that the warranty only covers the current value of my old player... meanwhile, he has dissapeared to do an interview. I feign ignorance and tell her I didn't realize that, and that he told me I could get the full value (which he did). So she calls someone else, who comes up, and I feign ignorance to him and smile. He tells me he will "make me happy". $30 dollars later I walk out of there with a new player that is half the size, has 8 times the storage and won't cause blue screen of death. My sense that I had just stolen an mp3 player was so strong that it was hard not to run out of the store.

Its pretty, and somewhat diminshes my iPod urges, since for the next year and then some I will be attached to my computer all the time, and this one is big enough to keep 200 or so songs at my fingertips.

On another note, I have just had an 'ex' epiphany, not just with one ex but with two! Amazing. How that's possible I don't know, one very good and one very upsetting.

Summer Cleaning

I seem to be in the midst of a big cathartic clean. What that means exactly is yet to be determined, but all I know is I have that feeling I used to get back when I leaned obsessive-compulsive (much moreso than I do now) and couldn't stop cleaning my room late at night once I started. There is just too much to be done this time, so I get at it in fits and bursts.

Tonight its been my room (a little) and my computer. Changing machines is always a process, and this one is thankfully almost at a close. I have yet to tackle email, but thanks to gmail's brilliance I am not so pressed this time. I will import my addresses to its system and won't even bother configuring Outlook. Anyways. While going through a stack of unlabeled CDs (not to self: label all future CDs to prevent having to go through stacks of them) I came upon a ton of photos on CD that I thought I had lost forever. Photos from last summer, I remembered the Castle and had a good nostalgic sigh, resolving to clean up my albums and go through them again.

Next came organizing my photos, and I started to compile those I had taken last year and thrown onto my drive in unlabeled but for dates. I wanted to create a master folder of Montreal shots, because I'd taken advantage of my digicam and had tons of 'walking' sets that I had taken on my regular traipses throughout the city. I found myself feeling choked up. Now I never thought I was over Montreal, of course not, but I thought I had gotten to a point where I could/would deal with it in a mature fashion. Apparently not. Apparently I am still in denial, still want to be back there and still can't let go of my life there. I just don't think about it here, and so I don't get upset.

Last night he sent me his first original song, and I cried. I had to pick up the phone to have someone near me. His words cut through me, even though I know he did not write them with me in mind. Perhaps that is the hardest thing about listening to them, I know all too well who they are for, and wish so much that they were mine. That he was mine. Like the city itself, he is still inside of me. The two ideas are so entwined that I can't escape either one.

Turns out, I need to clean a lot more than my room.

Its like a philosophical question

Only not.

After the events of last night I got to thinking. What if my internal conviction that sex should always be connected somehow to my feelings for someone was false. What if I have been screwing myself over in believing this, always getting involved with someone emotionally and not being able to separate that from the physical act itself. Why can't I just go out and have a good time? Suppose that the reason I am unable to have casual, non-committed sex has nothing to do with physical/mental realities, but instead is caused by a misguided and illogical (yet necessarily complex) set of triggers in my head that have been set up by myself and my societal surroundings. Fascinating. Is the only reason that women can't do what many men seem to pull off with ease just a result of our conditioning? Or is there really a deep connection between physical and emotional intimacy that cannot be avoided? I once believed that there was always something there in my heart and head to match my libidinous desires, but maybe I am wrong? To pull an idea from SatC, can I really have sex like a man? Interesting. I don't feel like a guinea pig, but maybe I am conducting this little experiment with myself. The more I think about this, the more I decide it is a good idea.

Back up the boat. Last night I declined the opportunity to have semi-casual sex. I say semi, because I think it would have continued on a regular basis (given, I am not discounting the potential recurrence of said offer) while not becoming a relationship per se.

Okay, so lets suppose that I can pull this off. And why not? I don't really think I like him all that much, but he kisses like he knows what he is doing. What is wrong with that? Here I am having a dilemma about whether to sleep with someone I might not like all that much, and how that is wrong... but what if the very mentality that creates these questions in my head is wrong? What if the problem lies not in the act itself, but in my crowded mind? Amazing. I will have to give this more thought.