Moving On....

Thank you New York. You did for me what London was meant to do, two years ago. I would say it's a shame that it's two years late, but I guess I learned from those two years.

Upon returning from my trip I came to a startling realization. While I love Peaches, I am no longer IN love with him. It was like a tremendous weight lifted from my shoulders and I could breathe deeply again.

Don't get me wrong I don't want to give the impression that I've moved on from him because of his accident. If anything I thought his accident would surely render me even more hopeless about him. Although his accident did help to clarify some things for me. Like for instance: he's not IN love with me. While I'm sure I've known this for the past two two and a half years to really accept it helped me in a very big way.

I feel so good about it that I want to tell everyone. Even though no one (except a few VERY close friends knew how I felt) really knew what was going on. I must say that it is a relief to be able to go and visit him and not have that awkward feeling when his family or girlfriend show up.

So I'm not cutting him out of my life, in fact this is a good thing because I can move in a whole new positive direction with him. We are good friends, he'll always be important to me. Except now I can probably tell him I love him, and not have to worry about turning to stone!

Which makes it even more fabulous that I've met some decent boys in the last little while; who have some real potential..... Can't wait to see what happens there. But I'm definitely in NO rush!

(For those interested Peaches' recovery is still progressing, albeit slow and steady. More upper body movement; he's pushing his own wheelchair! Still waiting for some movement in his legs other than the spasms, but he does have feeling in them -- well at least he could feel me adjusting his legs and feet that one night. His spirit remains as positive as ever and I do find him truly inspiring. If you've got a little room in your prayers I'd appreciate the positive energy for him!)

I'm still tired

Note to self: Next time you're leaving on a day trip to another province with your mother -- don't stay up talking to The Marine until 2:30 only to promptly awake at 5:30 and get on the highway. (It sorta makes for a long day).

It was good to spend a day with my mother, who for some reason seemed to think that I hadn't spent enough money during those ten days in New York that I needed to go on a shopping trip with her (on the bright side she did buy me a few things -- don't judge it was just stuff for my Shoebox!)

But the trip once again reminded me of the brilliance and evil that is Ikea. Don't get me wrong I love that I picked up oodles of frames for my pictures for next to nothing, but after awhile some of that furniture all starts to look the same. Then of course I think I hurt my back lifting three chests of drawers (unassembled of course), and those people weren't very friendly about loading those damn cabinets into the back of our truck. There is nothing I hate more than shitty customer service. Don't worry they're not on the shitlist, at least not yet. FedEx and Stubhub still hold the top spots there.

Needless to say, the quiet week at home I was supposed to have sitting in my parents basement watching the Heroes DVD boxset has left me just as tired if I had stayed in the QC and worked all week. Oh well, at least I got my laundry done.

Addicts Anonymous

I'm not sure why a sports guy should look that angry all the time.....maybe it's just his eyebrows. Who knows I have other things to think about.

For example: who needs 550GB of porn on their computer? I mean on the one hand I have to slightly respect the fact that he downloaded some of it out of an entrepreneurial motivation. Nothing like making money off of other peoples' addictions. But then too bad when it becomes your own addiction as well.

Seriously, does any woman find that an attractive quality in a man? Don't get me wrong I'm not such a prude that I think no man ever looks at porn, but there is looking and then there is a severe addiction and the dillusion that you should be in porn.

It's great to have goals and dreams, but come on.

I think I'll go back to wondering why the sports guy looks so angry and watching my football highlights. It won't get me in nearly as much trouble.

technology - don't

webcams are just wrong.

au natural

The difference between Canadian boys and American boys is one of perspective.

Canadian Boy: "your lips look like pillows" (yes, a boy has actually said that to me -- and no it definitely didn't get him anywhere!)

American Boy: "are your lips natural?"
Me: laughing... "yes"
American Boy: "Really!? We thought for sure that you had to be getting those injections."

Funny how most Canadian boys would never entertain the idea of altering ones appearance other than a boob job, while American boys seem to assume that first before believing that's just how you were born.

My Marine

It seems that sometimes it would be best to leave those boys you meet on vacation back there. I mean there is a reason that it's light, fun and easy -- you're on vacation and you just don't care. For some reason I opted against this course of action and decided to see if it carried into "real life".

I started to question this last night after talking to my Marine. My initial reaction was "ewww he's dumb" (I had this thought after he asked me what the word loathe meant). And because he has a less than attractive job.

But I decided not to be so damn superficial and persevered through it and discovered that he's actually kind of sweet and of course the Iraq discussion left me literally speechless and oozing with respect for him.

Seriously, I haven't stopped thinking about it and now some of those pictures are seared into my brain. It's a lot different looking at pictures and being able to remove yourself because there is no connection, but now knowing someone who's been changes all that. Not to mention I kept thinking during our conversation (but didn't say -- you've killed people!). Very surreal. I think I'll keep talking to him.

Feeling restless.

It smells like fall.

I'm not sure how I missed it but suddenly all the leaves have changed and a scattered pile of them stood at my feet this morning as I made my way out of The Shoebox and off to work.

Once again the only thing that could satiate me was a quick run to Starbuckys to ease the pain and restlessness of being back.

Hard to believe that just a week ago I was kicking back and soaking up some sun in Sheep Meadow in Central Park. Now my tan has faded, I've gone searching for my cute little fall sweaters to be pulled out and have hastily stashed many of my summer clothes.

The transition of seasons usually makes me happy and feels good but for some reason this year it seems to be depressing me. I'm not looking forward to 8 months of winter (except of course for that week in March that I'll go snowboarding).

Normally when I go on trips it makes me appreciate the little things about life at home. This time that doesn't seem to have happened. In fact I miss the hustle and bustle of NYC, the crazy people you'd encounter on the subway, a newsstand on every corner, breakfast at Zabars, the different smells every ten feet and just walking and walking for miles on end losing yourself in the crowd. I can't wait to go back.

The mania has subsided

So I suppose I am now officially home, as I returned to the QC yeseterday. I would definitely have to admit that it was not a happy return. The drive seemed to take longer than ever and then to top it all off when I pulled into my parking lot, I was even less impressed. They decided to tear out the electrical posts and install new ones which isn't a bad thing but the trench they needed to dig runs right under my space which is lovely. They better pave over that shit before it snows.

Not so bad I trudge my bags up the three flights of steps (thankful that my mother had made the trip with me) only to discover that sometime in the ten fabulous days I spent in Manhattan my fridge had stopped working. Just what everyone wants to come home to. On the bright side my fridge got a well deserved cleaning and I got to drop some coin to restock my fridge.

Mental note: no more chicken will be stored in my freezer in case that happens again.

I am definitely missing my Zabars frozen yogurt this morning, while I watch the Giants get their butts kicked by Brett and the boy from the QC.

Time to go to work and bring myself crashing back to reality. hooray.

Home sweet home

After a lengthy day of travel it was supposed to be a relief to arrive at the home airport last night but all I felt was the longing to hop back on a plane and jet off to somewhere -- at the very least warmer!

Nothing like sunning in Central Park one day and preparing for frost the next. Stupid country!

Oh well time to return to a schedule of somewhat normality if only to plan the next trip.

Hawaii here we come!

Gone going....

I was surrounded by mania today without the slightest desire to join in. As a matter of fact the mania was what set off yet another bad mood (well that coupled with a complete lack of sleep, workaholism, and working from 9 in the morning until nearly midnight -- I love my life, I love my life, I love my life -- nope still not working!)

I mean, sure I might have had a smidgeon of fun as I got to be at the stadium early, photographing some behind the scenes action and then "stalking" the players entrance in the vain hope that some of the players would show up early (lucky for me, "my" boy did indeed make an early appearance -- also note that when "my" boy noticed I was filming him, his chest puffed ever so slightly and that sexy little grin was definitely present *sigh*.)

But working more than fourteen hours two days before leaving on a ten day trip of manic/depressive proportions is not my idea of fun.

Although I am intrigued to see the levels of craziness that the three of us will produce when in close quarters and a foreign city for that many days. May stupidity and hilarity ensue to wipe away all of our collective unhappiness!

So if you don't hear from me, don't be alarmed. I'm out searching for happiness....wish me luck!

Shadows

I feel like I lost track of myself......somewhere between the non-stop working, Peaches' accident, trying to deal, and just generally existing has somehow made me lose....me.

It came crashing full force today after I finished most of my errands that caused me to finally take a day off. At a certain point I realized I didn't know what to do with myself because normally I would be at work. I had meant to go and visit Peaches today but something stopped me from going. Especially when I remembered that he got possession of his house this weekend and that under different circumstances I would be moving soon (maybe).

That of course lead me to wonder about why I keep making the wrong choices. While I do sometimes learn from my mistakes that doesn't seem to be the case with Peaches. Granted these are extraordinary circumstances that we find ourselves in but as I sat at the rehab centre with him the other night, I couldn't help but think that if the situation were reversed and I was the one laying in that bed, that he would have done his one obligatory visit and that would have been the last I saw of him. Instead I find myself wearing his bracelet, spending evenings visiting him and staying into the wee hours of the morning to keep him company, give him his drugs, adjusting his feet and legs, all in the shadow of his girlfriend. Don't I feel stupid.

But until he gets better my presence will be there for him, even if he doesn't really notice.

Maybe I'll find the rest of me hiding there in those shadows.