my life

andiamo

The following entry is the introduction to RW in italia: my new blog home for the next 2 months. Please add it to your bookmarks :)

I finally felt like my preparations were under control. Months of work, weeks of planning, and a good number of days searching, buying, packing, forgetting, and remembering, led to this day. Not the day of departure, but the day of relaxation. The day of enjoying Vancouver one last time before I leave for 2 entire months. Summer, late to arrive, was in full swing, and the sun was setting. In good company, I walked the sea wall, watching crowds of fellow beachgoers lounge and laugh and watch the beach performers. The water perfectly reflected the glowing clouds above, edges brushed a vibrant pink, setting them apart from the saturated blue sky and lush green trees. I couldn’t remember the last time the world was so colourful, and I could barely make time to blink.

]]> Before I knew it, I was back home, packing my bag. Adding this, subtracting that, making sure I had all I needed, and nothing I didn’t. More friends, more goodbyes, one final sunset, and one more late night. It’s after 2AM, and I’m to wake in 6 hours to prep for departure at 1600hrs. I’m excited, I’m nervous, I’m anxious, I’m overwhelmed, and I’m underwhelmed, I’m tired, and I’m ecstatic. 24 years of experience. 4 months of research. 1 week of final planning. 1 flight, with 1 transfer, and 1 meal. 1 amazing adventure, with 14 great friends, and 1 awesome prof, in 4 incredible cities.

Here goes nothing.
.. and by nothing I mean everything.

Farewell Vancouver; Italia here I come!

strawberry oeufs

When I walk, I often walk very quietly. It's not fully on purpose - likely the result of my slim stature, proper foot placements before taking the next step, and quiet clothing. However at times I find this can create potentially uncomfortable situations for people. For example, I have found that quite regularly, when walking in public, I'll intentionally drag a few steps when I'm getting close to overtaking someone on the sidewalk. I also walk very fast. If they attempt to walk faster to escape the odd shadow behind them (ie. me) that just doesn't work cause I'll simply increase the stride... and add a few more foot slurs until they hear me and move to the side. Is this odd? Mom says I need a bell (ie. a cat, or i suppose cow) so I don't startle her at home. Am I the only one who thinks this much about the sounds of walking?

]]> In other news, I'm having a very difficult time concentrating on the studio project for tomorrow. At least I'm not the only one - my team and most members in the other two teams are having the same difficulties. It's some combination of still being worn out from all the work in the spring semester, and a sort of mental confusion in attempting to put oneself back into the 'at school get to work' mindset. Most are planning on an all-nighter, and likely thursday night as well, before the friday presentation class. I'll be going home thanks.. though looking at the productivity of the past 5 hours... being quite insignificant.... it's unlikely we'll be finished anywhere near my midnight deadline.

****

On top of that, I've been enjoying a bit of a web-interest revival over the past week, prompted by uploading some hawaii photos from last autumn to my flickr account. From there, I suddenly found myself interested in the flickr API and other options, taking me to updates on mybloglog, playing with new javascript/css features on a site for the pop, and today fully delving into twitter, pownce, and a few other fancy dancy web2.0 services. It all has me excited to start a new blog in preparation for the summer, but unfortunately right now is when I do not have the time to do that.

So keep in touch. Hopefully next week will give me a bit of time to make something supacool.

guardian angel

I stepped out of the elevator and through the door into P4. Ahead, the Escape, loaded with belongings that had sustained me over the past 3 months. Behind, the life I quickly grew to love. Though my heart fully disagreed, money and time required that it come to an end. My original plan was to load the car and enjoy a quiet dinner alone, to be followed by a walk to English Bay to soak up my final downtown sunset. Luckily the clouds didn't seem to agree, and a dinner invitation was given by roomie and his boy. At the time, I knew this to be a better plan, so we hit one of the local Yaletown eateries and enjoyed each other's company and conversation. By 9pm it was obvious the sun decided to silently make its exit below the horizon.

]]> Once I made it to the car, I wasn't ready to leave. Not yet. Key in the ignition, sun roof open, I winded my way up through the depths of the parkade and onto the street above. I called up the nMan suggested gelato, picked him up, and found a spot to park up the hill from Denman. The girl at Mondo seemed happy for the business, and suggested a tasty raspberry cheesecake. We then headed to the beach I missed out on earlier in the day, to sit and savour the moment. The sky, half painted black by clouds from the west, glowed the shade of dark ocean turquoise I have always loved. It is that time of day, no longer evening, not yet night, and something past twilight. The city lights, contrasted to the deepness of the colour in the sky, with dark shadows of trees and unlit condos, and reflections of all on the water's surface.... I'll remember it. I'll remember it as I walk along the Tiber and the Arno. I'll think of it when the overwhelming pace and complexity of Milano makes me yearn for tranquility. I'll miss it, gazing out my suburban bedroom window at the fence 6 feet away, and the wall of the neighbouring house beyond that. I'll relive it when I move back in a future that has yet to be decided.

****

Wandering the streets of the city snapping photos.
Walking the sea wall with gruppo5, then half of downtown and the burrard st bridge; all 16km of it.
Blading the sea wall and false creek, and then doing it again. 13km each.
Cherishing a final coffee at the park at 9am under the glowing spring sun.
Watching the sun set in a glorious show of colours, reflecting off the glass towers all around.
Singing and playing my best in a competition of Rockband and American Idol (and reaching a tie at 100% on expert) with a handful of great friends.
and Smiling every chance I could.

****

Red Jumpsuit Apparatus - Your Guardian Angel

italia

Yeah. I've been absent for almost a month! It was quite a month. Too busy for me, but the semester has since ended, and winter has returned. Really, we've had snow more than a few times in April, and the average highs is still around 10 degrees celsius. Last year we had summer-like weather beginning in March. This year, the east side of the country is finally enjoying our summer weather while we're stuck with their winter. Odd.

]]> I've also come up with an idea. I like taking photos. And I like learning. So I decided, why not combine the two? As many of you know, this summer I'm going on a 2 month field study to a few cities in Italy. It's quite an expense, and quite significantly more than I can afford. (student loans anyone?!).

To offset the expenses, I've decided to pre-sell photographs. Once I return I'll go through them and make my photoshop edits, print them out, pack them up, and mail them out. You can request a subject and I'll do my best to fulfill the request, or you can give me the freedom to pick one for you. You can pay as much or as little as you want (as long as its above the printing and shipping costs), or you can just donate without expecting a photo in return. If this interests any of you, click the link below and check it out. And thank you in advance :)

I promise to make a real update again soon (along with a new layout when the inspiration hits me)

headwaters

I wasn't sure what to say. Earlier on I had smiled and nodded, thinking it was an exaggeration to make a point. But when it was presented with, "Can you keep a secret?" a faint, but distinguishable feeling of guilt rose up in me. "I'm going to leave him," she continued. My cousin, going on 38, was preparing to escape the situation she had lived in for 18 years. It had reached the point where none of their 3 children, from 9 to 16 years, would speak to their father, or be comfortable in his presence. Her mind, and her body, deserved a healthier environment. And domestic abuse immediately became personal.

]]> She had made attempts to find him help, and to work it out, but his addiction was an impassable barrier. Her boss knows, and she has friends helping her find a new home, she recently acquired a job in the mall below my campus, and she still has a speck of hope in her eye. Boss appeared, I stole a hug, and waved goodbye as she hurried off to start her shift. Never has, 'we should meet for coffee,' affected me so.

****

The next morning I woke with the sun.. a pleasant surprise from the forecasted rain/clouds. I eventually rolled out of bed, showered, prepared my bag, and ran down to the street. Soon enough, the sound of an approaching engine revealed my friends car, and I hopped into the passenger seat. We drove into the rising sun, visors down to protect our sight. Snow coated the mountains on the North Shore - our final destination. We stopped by 29th Ave Station and picked up 2 other classmates before heading for the highway. The four of us, adventurers preparing for the upcoming field school, decided to test out our bodies in anticipation for the days of walking we'll experience in Italia.

Clouds scattered the sky as we crossed the 2nd Narrows into North Van. The towers of downtown, sparkling in the distance, were no match for the mountains drawing us north. We winded up through residential hills before reaching the final lot outside Lynn Headwaters. Now, I'm sure I must have visited Lynn Valley at some point in my youth, but if I have, I can't remember. Either way, I'm positive I wouldn't have hiked the same 9km as a youngster.

It started off pleasant. Sun venting through the treetops, highlighting the undergrowth below. As we ascended, ice chunks began falling from the canopy, waging warfare on our heads. We reached a lookout, providing a partial view of the metropolis below - the bridge crossed earlier, perfectly aligned with our current location. Back into the forest, the snow underfoot grew deeper as we continued, and our shoes doubled as skis down many of the slight dips and slopes. Dozens and dozens of photos later, we reached a clearing that lead towards the creek splitting the valley. The sun that had been playing hide and seek decided to hide once more, as snow began to fill the sky. 4ft snowbanks lined the path towards the water, beckoning childhood emotions within me. I resisted the urge to duck, or dig, or write in its walls, but the others weren't so restrained.

The snow grew heavier and turned to rain as we made our way back along the trail that followed the creek. No longer sheltered by the forest canopy, we found refuge in the occasional tree well. Fellow hikers or park goers grew in number as we neared the end of the trail. It was getting to be midday, and families were out to take advantage of their day off. We were glad to be near the end of the return trip, having enjoyed minimal human interruption on our journey. As soon as we reached the map at the trail head, and crossed the final bridge towards the lot, the clouds parted and the sun celebrated our arrival.

I made it home, bidding farewell to my classmates before taking advantage of the hot tub on the main floor, and retired to my bed to rest. It was no more than 3pm, but my Good Friday was nearing the border to being a great Friday.

****

Spotting rowers in the dark below the Cambie Bridge.
Enjoying fare dolce niente with the roommate.
Finding a new outfit to make Easter a little more special.
Singing my best in that new outfit to make Easter a little more memorable.
Leaving time between commitments to sit, ponder, and improve.
Appreciating, savoring, living, and loving every minute I get to spend in my room, apartment, neighbourhood, and city, before the approaching move back to Delta.
Zoning out in lectures to write, reflect, and share, and feel great about doing it. Sorry Zorana!

unconsidered

Surely it is one of the many miracles of this fine area of the world. The day can be dreary and wet; air so moist, the landscape receding into a grey fog, layer by layer. As clouds begin to darken, anticipating the evening, a small separation forms over the water. This sliver, its pale peach flesh visible in the distance, taunts us with the beautiful skies outside our reach. And then a line is drawn across the city, darkness turning into brilliant, horizontal light. The sun has descended between the clouds, casting out a deep, golden energy. Buildings ignite as their reflections burn with the rich, saturated glow. The light, so warm and penetrating, overwrites our memory of the cold blue storms to the east.

]]> And then, as if it weren't enough, a rainbow, bridging light and dark, reaches across the horizon from one side to the other. Surely the rest of the world must be in night, as we have all the power of the heavens on us in this moment. I yearn for my camera, to capture, to steal the world assembled before me. Yet I know the record would do the event no justice at all. So I sit. I leave my eyes open, to absorb the piercing rays, watching houses and hills and trees and mountains flash by outside the windows of the train. And then it's over. Back behind the clouds, to guide us into the night. I know it will return again.

****

thank you for the time we shared.
when it was just you and me, alone.
your hand in mine, my head on your shoulder.
p.s. those days are gone.

when did you ever miss me?
how could you forget to want me?
when were you going to tell me
i meant more to you?

i thought you were mine.
and i was there when you needed me
but you never did.
you left me on my own.

p.s. i love you
did you forget what it meant?
because i still remembered,
but i had no reason to say it again.

i told myself it wouldn't happen any more
then you'd reply and i'd find you,
i'd see your eyes and find hope again
just to be left in the background. again.

our love algebra; arrested development
you couldn't give me what i longed for.
you wouldn't even recognize it.
you won't remember me when it's over
and i'll try not to remember you,
but that's not so easy for some of us,
when love went unconsidered.

****

"...there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my life..." (american beauty)

****

the setting sun, on the 135 down the hill.
a murder of a thousand crows.
a healthy dose of live jazz and delicious eats
friend, photoshoot, blue sky, clear water.

hide and seek

It's lonely out here in this world. Look out the window, and there are people everywhere. Some in groups, some solo, talking, walking, smiling, laughing, holding hands, listening to music, checking out the sights, making a call, shooting a photo, carrying some bags, pushing a stroller. I sit in my aquarium watching them go by. Ambient dreamscapes leak through my speakers and fill the room, bouncing off wall and floor. The sun sets, reflected off the glass towers surrounding me. I turn it up, hoping to drown out emotion. Trying to overwhelm my mind into a state of complacency. Sitting on the edge of my recently acquired bed, eyes glazed over, powerbook on my lap, cell phone at my side, I throw my head back, I close my eyes, and I let it go. I let him go.

]]> We're two busy people. The schedules are completely opposite for the most part. And he has a problem with communication. Namely, as his friend pointed out after my concern reached a level that prompted me to ask her about it, his busyness leads to forgetfulness. He can forget to return phone calls or text messages for a week at a time, afterwards realizing that he hadn't heard from certain people over that time, and feeling as though they're annoyed at him due to their lack of regular communication. I can't do that. I can't be the person always needing to make sure he remembers he has a boyfriend. Do I need to write a sign to put up on his door? Give him a new picture for his phone menu screen saying, "call robert, he misses you?"

He's young. He has things to learn. He's sexy, smart, affectionate, and ambitious. I love him, but he's not right for me. And that saddens me, because 2.5 months is hardly long enough to get to know someone - although I stopped getting to know him after the first few weeks, when any conversation became insubstantial and ordinary, given the few times we've been able to see each other without the presence of other company.

The tips of the clouds are beginning to burn a deep, vibrant, pink; greyish-blue filling the gaps in between. The setting sun is putting on an extravagant show to the southwest, and I'm left to view the remains scattered to the east.

A car rolls by, headlights beginning to illuminate the pavement below. The music fades. And with it, my heart.

****

Imogen Heap - Hide and Seek

time & space

I don't know what to write anymore. It sorta bugs me. I could tell short, random stories, but they wouldn't make any sense when put together. For instance, I attended a once-a-month praise and worship service at one of the old downtown churches this past sunday with a couple friends. It's a progressive, inclusive service held on the 3rd sunday of the month. We sing a bunch of songs, letting our voices echo through the cathedral, and spend a few minutes reflecting on a short meditative word from the worship leader. It was refreshing, and I was pleased to have doubled my church points for the week, having been on worship team duty at the home church that morning.

]]> I still haven't found time to transport a real mattress out here from home, but the air mattress has yet to begin damaging my muscles/joints/bones/etc, so I suppose i have a little more time to sort it out. The walks to and from the station have become a welcome addition to my days that i'd been missing since I began driving all the time. Sure it means I have about an hour commute to the campus as opposed to a 20min drive from the parents house, but this way i'm saving the environment? and my legs? go transit?

And of course I've spent more time with him and his people, seeing improv shows, killing zombies, etc. Admittedly I was going through a bit of a rough patch recently. The previous post was partially inspired by this connection, and for the most part the concerns I had were resolved. Though as much as an improvement this is from who I was with last year at this time, I'm not as satisfied as I thought I would be. A lot of it has to do with the hours and hours and hours I spent at school, or working on school projects, or thinking about working on school projects, or arranging meetings or attending meetings or missing meetings for school projects. A lot of it also has to do with me no longer taking the car out as often as I would have in the past. A lot of it also has to do with the improv teams he coaches going through the regional finals, and his work schedule, and the geographical distance. But a lot of it also has to do with phones, and the use of said phones, or the lack thereof. I tell myself I'm needy. And there are technical issues with the service provider concerning sms messages between him and other customers, it has been confirmed, but when he's a block away from my apartment for a show as opposed to 45minutes away at home, I'd like to think it wouldn't take much effort to ring me up and maybe grab a coffee with him and his crew before they head back to Burnaby. Or just to say hello, the team did great.

The Musical Monday gang and I watched Chicago over dinner this week. I'd never seen it before. I was disappointed. I can finally say that for the first time while watching a musical, I groaned a little inside every time the music would start to play. Just when the story seemed like it was getting somewhere, they'd interrupt with a confusing ol' song and dance number. I've been told the broadway version had more time for dialogue.

I slept for approximately 45 minutes last thursday night (err.. friday morning, from 8:45-9:30, before the 10:30 class). It was a long day/night working on the italia design research for the friday presentation. We're further along with our topics for this week, and I don't have any valentines day to worry about, so here's hoping we can stick to the plan of being home before 1am. I told myself I'd never spend the night on campus. I'm one of only a few who hasn't yet, but this was too close for me.

*****

Waking up to see blue sky and sunshine out my bedroom window.
Watching an eclipsed moon step out from behind the clouds.
Speeding down the highway under the late morning sun, leather jacket and sunglasses on, window rolled halfway down, with good country tunes on the radio.
Appreciating the absence of voices, the silence of the weeknight, and the commotion of the city.
Witnessing blankets of fog coat fields and tree-lined hills on a Sunday morning; the sun bleaching its way into the distance, reaching out across Mt. Baker and the mountains to the east.
Making time to listen, think, write, and remember.

ma fleur

I don't have the time to be writing this. In fact, I'm skipping classes today just to find time to meet the deadlines fast approaching in my other classes this week. I'm also back in Delta. Parents off for a week of relaxation, younger sis (21ys/o) requested company out here because she's not comfortable coming home after her classes to a dark, empty house. I'll stay a few nights, and try to enjoy the comforts of a real mattress if I have time to sleep. But even when I manage to get school thoughts out of my mind, I still can't rest.

]]> What is it with the human mind? ie. Why do so many find it difficult to be content with no outside help? ie. Why do I have to feel uncomfortable being happy with the view of reality I was born with? ie. Why drugs. Why alcohol. Why do I have problems with them? I'm a self-professed sober non-alcoholic. Meaning, I've tried the stuff a few times, been drunk twice, and decided it wasn't for me. Never had the desire to smoke or test-drive the other options out there either. I have my reasons, which used to be based on the opinions of my parents, then onto issues of monetary cost and driving restrictions, but now that I have virtually nothing limiting me, I've grown to detest it all the more. I don't want to see it, I don't want to smell it, I don't want to hear about it, I don't want to socialize with others who are presently affected by it.

Last month, my eldest sis turned 30 on the same day as younger sis' boyfriend turned 25. They were going to have a double birthday with the fellow siblings at a good old fashioned country karaoke bar across the border near his town. They weren't going to be drinking, but I had no interest in going. My discomfort would have far outweighed any opportunity for happy thoughts of either of the birthday persons, for whenever they would have looked at me, they would have just seen a completely out of place and un-enthused individual. It's not that the drinks themselves bug me, nor even the consumption of drinks by surrounding patrons. It's knowing that said patrons are consuming said drinks for a reason. Maybe it's taste, maybe it's the relaxing effects, maybe it's a way to escape life for a bit, maybe it's a combination of all the above.

I like water. I rarely drink anything other than juice or water. I'm fine with the range of non-alcoholic drinks, if you prefer pop over water, don't worry, no judgement from my end. But with alcohol, there is an expected effect on the body. Even if someone is just consuming it for the taste, he or she expects that it will provide a bit of a buzz if nothing more. Does he or she need that buzz? If not, then why bother drinking it at all? The birthday was held at sis' place with pizza and a hot tub instead.

Alcohol somewhat out of the way lately, (aside from when he told a friend that I don't drink, after being invited on a birthday pub crawl, and the reaction from the friend was of stunned confusion), the current issue is cigarettes and pot. Get. It. Away. From. Me. I thought I was free of that stuff after high school ended, but alas, it has crept back in through the lives of those around me. I expressed my dislike for said substances when they first surfaced, but somehow their appearance, in talk or in physical realization, has become more regular and I'm quickly growing even more intolerant of them.

What is a man to do? I've joked before that I need to make some AA friends because such issues wouldn't come up, but never having had a substance abuse problem of my own, would I even be accepted?

Sigh. It's rainy, I need a bed, we never have alone time, this headache is bugging me, I need time to buy food, there are too many projects, presentations, and assignments due this week, I'll have to cancel valentines plans to stay on campus for the usual 18 hours; I'm worn out..

come rain, come shine

Rufus crooning Judy in the background, I reach to grab a bottle of water from the cardboard night table beside my semi-inflated air mattress. So this is what living away from home is like, I said to myself. I like it. Or at least I liked the first 24 hours or so. We'll see how the upcoming weeks and months go, though I'm sure things will get better once I manage to get a real bed in here, and perhaps a chair or two in the main living area. Downtown already feels different. It feels both bigger and smaller at the same time. It's familiar, yet completely new. It's a feeling that's so different from any other I've experienced.

]]> Dad helped me move most of my clothes and assorted things down here last night before heading back to the suburbs and leaving me on my own. Mom asked if I wanted her to come or if she could stay home. She asked, so I said she didn't need to come. She said it was a 'guy' thing, I wouldn't want my mom coming to help me move. I figured that was a good enough reason, gave her a hug, and headed out to the car. Before we left, I remember looking up at the dark night sky, so fresh, so many stars, the treetops creating a lovely frame. The air was quiet. It was a good moment to remember. This morning I managed to finally pick up my keyfob so I would be able to get back in after leaving the building, or even my floor. I went for a bit of a walk, met a friend for lunch, and it was off to school for a meeting and class before heading back downtown to a friends for dinner and a musical. My car is going to get so lonely :(

Now I just can't wait for the weather to warm up. It's Vancouver, we've had snow downtown a few times, and it stayed. That's just not right. It's already February, the lilies back home are at least 3" out of the grown (and surrounded with snow, mind you).

What else is there to say? I can't think of much right now, plus I need to get on to some homework. But you and I, we'll talk again soon.

with every heartbeat

As patterns of days and weeks repeat over time, the brain gradually overloads. Think of a laundry basket that hasn't been emptied in a while.. and you can't remember where the washer is. That thing'll just keep piling up until you have nothing left to wear. And rather than go about your daily business in the buff, you realize you'd better start digging around for the machine so you can get those things washed up and back on the shelves. Although I just did laundry a couple days ago, today, for the sake of my sanity, is that day.

]]> But that doesn't even make sense because the first 3/4 of the day was still filled with busyness, frustration, and a struggle to pay attention in lecture. So even though tomorrow will be a regular 20-hour thursday, I'm taking most of tonight off. It was a hectic week. Sister+hub+his bro visiting, family birthdays, moving arrangements, miscellaneous obligations, a foot of snow and ice to make driving just that much safer, as well as all the regular time-consuming school commitments and free time for him.

Yes, I have a new place to live. No, I haven't moved in for the past week, mainly because I don't have keys yet, and it's a 45 minute drive away. = Time I don't have. And it's no easier having roommate #1 in Toronto for a week and a half, and roommate #2 working all the time. It's also not the ideal place, and lacks one of the main items I would have searched for: plenty of windows and a decent view from my solarium room. Who would have thought the solarium would be the room with the smallest window?

Grumpiness recognized and homemade turkey soup consumed, I retreated to my room at home to sit and listen to some calm music, and .. do whatever else it is i've been doing. Don't ask, because I don't even know.. I was listening to songs on youtube for a while, that's about all I can think of. Really its just been a lot of reclining and staring at nothing and unloading my brain into the atmosphere. Get that stuff washed up.

.. And i just smacked myself on the bridge of my nose with my knuckle after spotting what seemed to be a fly appear disturbingly close to my eyes. Ugh.

Tumble Tumble Wash Wash.

lunar

I've written before about my love of the weather, and of nature, and the environment. My obsession with clouds and colours. Tonight we have a nearly full moon that is so exceptionally bright, it puts the streetlights to shame. Before stepping out onto the deck, I fully expected my feet to sink into what seemed to be a layer of ice or white film, but turned out to be no less than the light of the moon. Amazingly crisp, after what seemed to be weeks and weeks of rain, slush, snow, and cloudy skies. But not tonight. Tonight is pure, clean, infinite space, littered with stars and the mirrors of the heavens. And I am grateful.

]]> * * * *

Digging into the gas pedal after red turns to green before a long stretch of open road.
Climbing into bed and turning off the lamp each night.
Reading chapter after chapter of textbook after textbook, and enjoying it.
Finding the weak spots that make him squirm and melt into my arms.

* * * *

The field study director needed our returning dates today before sending the info off to the school travel company. They'll be booking our flights to Italia next week, for the field school this summer. I've planned to spend an extra 2 weeks after we finish up in Milano, likely to be spent making my way across the Riviera, down to Barcelona, then up to Paris where I'll fly back home. Nearly 2 months in Europe. It's going to cost far more than I have, and it will often be 12 hour days of interviews, research, and presentations, but it will be worth far more than I'll ever admit. In the meantime, I need to concentrate on finishing projects and research presentations efficiently enough to find time to sleep, and maybe even hit the gym. When in Rome, ... look as the Romans did? That's the goal. Besides, no one wants to see a walking hanger.

atonement

Let's start this off by saying I wanted to cry. I needed a good teary-eyed cinema experience, as I hadn't had one in a while. So. Picked him up, made our way into Coquitlam for some eats, and headed back to the theatre to buy our tickets and wet our cheeks. Error one: He beat me to the fastpay machine, which subsequently charged him before developing a printer error. No worries, we'll sort it out after the film. Error two: The film Atonement must now use it's namesake in repaying the emotional disappointment I experienced. Error three: The manager was kind enough to refund us for the earlier printer error in the form of 2 movie vouchers, but my guilt-ridden self felt like I was scamming him to give us free stuff. When really all he did was repay the tickets we doubly paid for.

]]> Am I a robot? I'd heard people say it was one of the cockiest films to hit theatres in a while, claiming to be big and grand and emotional.. I didn't know the characters. Sure, they said they were in love, but that doesn't prove anything, and it certainly doesn't create a bond between character and movie goer. After realizing they were "in love," it seemed like nothing much happened until the credits started rolling. Save for, and I use the word save quite deliberately, the wonderful audio art in the soundtrack composition, and the make-me-giddy 5 minute-long continuous shot along the beach. That took some planning right there.. and I felt a total nerd for even noticing it. And more of a total nerd for pointing it out to him about it as it was happening. Him, who was lucky enough to require some wiping of the cheeks near the end of the movie. Not robot me. Robbot robo.

* * * *

'Twas the third day of classes today. Monday I had Italian, Tuesday I had a simple business course to fulfill a lingering credit (Introduction to computers and information management... I know, I know... I said.. easy credit.. computer what now?), and today I had an upper level computing science course I wasn't overly looking forward to.. until class started, and prof began speaking. It turns out it'll be more of a sociology style course, looking at the implications of the spread and adoption of computers and technology. Complete with 20 paged essays and formal debates. Can I hear a sarcasm-free "fun!?" (really, it will be fun). Now all I have to do is make it through the design studio course tomorrow, and onto the 5hr-long italian history course on Friday. Here's where I wish I could pretend to desire coffee.

* * * *

I've decided I'm going to be a downright nasty father (when needed). When I was younger, I thought it would be fun if my chillun's addressed me as "Sir." Since I've grown, it's become apparent that although that may have been accepted or encouraged many many (many) years ago, it'll likely seem a little out of date by the time my loins prove useful. At least I wouldn't be using a whistle? Although if they're anything like younger sister, a whistle may be necessary.

The folks were out in Saskatchewan visiting family this past week. I was invited to sleep in their room (as opposed to my dark, storage-littered basement room) so I could enjoy some sunlight and the benefits of an ensuite. I took them up on the offer, so today, in preparation for their return, I washed the sheets, vacuumed the room, tidied everything, and made it all perfect. This was followed by vacuuming and tidying most of the rest of the house, more laundry, cleaning dishes and/or starting the dishwasher, and asking younger sister if she could simply wash the bathtub, empty the dishwasher when it finishes, put the towels in the dryer when they're finished washing, and vacuum and tidy the remainder of the family room. She said it was a bit much, so I eliminated the dishwasher, because I'm nice like that.

Off I went down the transcanada to pick them up from Abbotsford International... the tiniest non-airport ever, the image of which was not assisted by the back-up power on which they were running when i arrived. This was only the second time I'd seen the place.. nice impression. It saved the folks $15 flying in there instead of Vancouver International. The terminal is one small building, containing one departing bay, one arriving bay, and 2 small luggage carousels. It was quaint. People greeted each other by name as they came to wait for loved ones. The flight arrived, I greeted ma n pa with hugs, as is customary in airports, retrieved their luggage, and we returned home to find that the vacuum hose was sitting in the laundry room hallway, the dishwasher was full, the bath was not cleaned, miscellaneous sister belongings were still strewn about, and the offender herself sat, on the telephone, in front of the tv.

All together now... "dub-tee-eff?"

The girl is 21.

I'd told her specifically about the bathtub because I know how the mother works, and I know she likes a warm bath after a long day (especially one spent on an airplane and a 5 hour-long transfer in Calgary). I told her numerous times, beginning last night. I cleaned out the rest of the bathroom... the least she could do would be to clean out the tub she was the last to use? Even when we were all talking and mom said how she'd like to have a bath, and began asking sis to clean the bathtub so she could have a bath and get to bed, it took about half an hour of convincing before she finally did it.

Now.

It's a good thing she's my sister and not my wife, otherwise the house would be mine and she'd be on the street (or in the cuckoo's nest, being interviewed by dr. phil)

'nuff said.

.. in related news, I'll be moving out with a couple friends into one of the many glass towers that make up downtown Vancity come February! (though only for 4 months or so, until I depart for Italia, after which i'll return, broke, homeless, carless, and in massive student loan debt. Word.)

jupiter

Of all the sounds in the world, there are none that bring me as much comfort as a strong windstorm through the cedars at home. I'm sure I've written about it before - lying in my bed as a child, listening to the branches sweeping and swaying. Often, the wind is so powerful I wake up and find the street littered with needles or limbs or full branches. Mom reminds me the entire area used to be a forest before they began building. Our home was the 2nd in the area, next to the show home. I guess they decided it would be a selling feature to keep some of the monster trees in the backyard. The sort with trunks that last 60 or 70ft before the branches even begin. The sort that may have been beautiful in a thick forest, but aren't so splendid when they're more alone... it seems at least one somewhere in the neighbourhood goes down every year, sometimes via chainsaw, sometimes via the wind. When the latter happens, it ain't so much fun.

]]> Luckily we've never had any come down in our yard. I used to stay awake worrying that if i went to sleep, I'd be awoken by a loud crash and a thick blanket of green. These days I sleep in the basement, so I don't even hear the trees anymore. However, last night I was reminded how much I love them. My take home chef and I prepared dinner, watched some comedy on the tele, and headed to the back deck so I could show off dads handywork, while getting some fresh air. And how fresh it was. If I didn't know better, I'd think it were a September night.. mild air, turbulent winds, a relatively clear sky. I leaned against a railing pillar, lifted my face to the sky, and soaked it all in. The lamp on the wall outlined his silhouette, and I smiled, watching and listening intently. To what? to both. To everything. To nothing, it didn't matter. To his little impromptu show. To the dramatic backdrop. To the voice in my head. It was just another moment in a series of moments that have made this a season to remember.

A few days ago I had the most fun I've had in months, if not years. I was on, what else can I say. I picked him up and we headed downtown to catch the final improv show at the Jupiter on Davie. It was singles night. As I paid our cover, they didn't ask if we wanted numbers. Besides, I already had 42 embroidered on my shirt. 42. The number I finally understand. We grabbed some seats up front, greeted his friends when they arrived, and cuddled up, laughing, applauding, and smiling the whole night. When it was over, was when I began. I love improv people.. they get me. No matter what I say, they laugh, and they return the favour. We walked down to Robson to catch some food at one of the restaurants. In between cracking jokes and putting on voices, I gave my cheek muscles a good smile work out, which continued on through dinner. The people knew how to have fun. Good clean fun - no new age fun at someone's expense, nothing overly offensive, yet nothing safe. 'Twas plain old cleverly witty fun, complete with tropical chimpanzee titties (as opposed to the british monarch variety).

I forgot I could be this outgoing. I had my moments in high school, and every now and then around my close friends, but in public in the company of a number of people I'd never met before that night, I couldn't have predicted it. As far as I can tell, my best guess is it helps to have a private cheerleader. Someone to impress, who will be impressed no matter if I succeed or fail. It was safe, so I ventured outside of my comfort zone, and I was rewarded for it. He joins the improv group next week. I'm sure he'll try a few more times to get me to join, but I'm just fine with catching the show each week; maybe yelling out suggestions now and then. Besides, I'm perfectly content as arm candy, even if the arm is in the spotlight.

Like I said, 2008 will be a great year... heck, 2008 has already been a great year.

resolution

The dark winter sky beyond the clouds begins to burn a deep shade of blue. Patches of snow reflect the increasing light as if each crystal was itself illuminated. Farms and fields sit still, covered in a soft layer of frost, waiting patiently. The lines bounce off the hood, one, then another, then another, in an eternal flashing pattern. My seat rumbles and sways with the texture below as the wind plays its lullaby. Perhaps, not so different from what my parents will soon enjoy on their flight to visit the prairie relatives as I return home to put myself to sleep. It is this day I have witnessed. This new year I have birthed. In pleasant company I did lay 2007 to rest, and in perfect solitude I welcomed 2008. It will be a good one, to be sure.

]]> For I am awaiting a multitude of unknowns. Some that have been planned in advance, and others that have developed over the past few months, or less. Some will challenge me and teach me, and some will surprise me. I will find joy, and I will find heartache. These things I know for sure.

I would, however, not have expected this. I could not have described this. But this is what I wanted all along. It is what I searched for and hoped for. My soul smiles when I'm in his presence, and I feel more complete than I ever knew one could feel.

A new light, a new year, a new perspective.

I think I'm in love.