Eak, Pugs and Windbag

Hmmm... I'm wondering what it is about me that makes me so distrustful of even those who are close to me.

I'm having an e-mail discussion with Eak even as I type this, and he asked me why I wouldn't just get Pugs to water my plants for me while I'm away next week. And if I'm honest with myself, I wouldn't trust her to just water the plants and leave, and that gives me a feeling of unease.
Eak, I would trust with my life, and wouldn't even care if he spent all day every day there in my apartment while I was gone, but there's a strangeness to Pugs that even after 2 years of a "good" friendship, I suspect that she would linger and snoop. Not that I have anything earth-shattering to keep hidden, but I do a lot of personal writing I don't let "anyone" read, and ...well... I'd hate to think of her riffling through my porn or any manner of kinky things (ie: lube, toys, attire) she could find with little effort by going through my bedroom.

This makes me an asshole. I'm certain of it. She's a sweet old lady who thinks the world of me, and I don't trust her to water my plants. Ugh. I guess you'd have to know her. I may yet go and make another key and let her do it for the sake of my plants, which will undoubtedly suffer for water after 8 days unattended.

Eak has offered to take me to the airport, which is incredibly sweet. But that's who he is. And we've come a long way. I declined the offer, because there's no need for him to drive across town 2 hours earlier than he'd normally get up on a Monday morning, when I can walk for 7 minutes and catch a bus that will drop me off at my airport terminal. I'm grateful though. I hope he knows I appreciate it beyond just saying I do.

--Dear Fucking Jesus-- while I'm typing now, one of my co-workers is on one of his tangents in my ear on the phone. Oh how I wish I was the type of person to tell someone to "shut the fuck up!" I've worked with this dude for the better part of 10 years at 2 different radio stations and his talent for nattering on and on about absolutely nothing of importance, never ceases to amaze and annoy me. "Cell phones", "internet service providers", "radio and television stations", and "right wing political bullshit"... without prompting "Windbag" will launch into a 20 minute vocal editorial. He's a 30 year old gay man with the demeanor of a senior citizen with chronic hemorrhoids (he voted for Rob Ford for fucks sake!). And I'm not alone in my opinion or dealings with him. People on staff, take turns rescuing one another with fake phone-calls to save comrades from the grips of his verbal diarrhea.
I do on occasion ridicule him in a high-pitched voice as I'm passing by. Without stopping to engage or join the enraptured victim(s) pretending to listen, I'll squeak "Are you STILL talking", as I head out of earshot. But he never seems to take it to heart. I cut him off and told him I had to retrieve a chicken burrito from the toaster oven in the kitchen. (not a lie) Now it's time to eat said burrito and get my butt to volleyball. I haven't played since early December, the second playing season starts tonight and I'll be feeling it tomorrow no doubt.

Song of the day is from a British band called "Hurts", that I'm absolutely loving despite the fact that I can't buy their album in Canada yet for anything short of my first born. Here's hoping it's released here soon. The song is called "Stay". And of course it makes me think of Scooter.

Hurts - Stay

My whole life waiting for the right time
To tell you how I feel.
Know I try to tell you that I need you.
Here I am without you.
I feel so lost but what can I do?
'Cause I know this love seems real
But I don't know how to feel.

We say goodbye in the pouring rain
And I break down as you walk away.
Stay, stay.
'Cause all my life I felt this way
But I could never find the words to say
Stay, stay.

Alright, everything is alright
Since you came along
And before you
I had nowhere to run to
Nothing to hold on to
I came so close to giving it up.
And I wonder if you know
How it feels to let you go?

You say goodbye in the pouring rain
And I break down as you walk away.
Stay, stay.
'Cause all my life I felt this way
But I could never find the words to say
Stay, stay.

So change your mind
And say you're mine.
Don't leave tonight
Stay.

Say goodbye in the pouring rain
And I break down as you walk away.
Stay, stay.
'Cause all my life I felt this way
But I could never find the words to say
Stay, stay.

Stay with me, stay with me,
Stay with me, stay with me,
Stay, stay, stay, stay with me.

Meaty Doesn't Know I Call Him Meaty

One of the problems with telling tales about real people in your life, is remembering the "nick-names" you give them. Since typing this sentence I've gone back and found the name I gave to Poppycock's lovely man: ..."Meaty". It makes me snicker a little as to why I call him that. I'll just say it revolves around his penchant for testicles and let your imagination do the rest.

I needed to remember because I'm going over to their place tonight for dinner and Meaty's cutting my hair, so I look all nice-nice for my niece's wedding next week in Punta Cana. A beach vacation sounds sooo good right now. I can't properly express my longing for a week of sun, water, heat and nothing to do.

Today was Poppycock's Canadian Citizenship ceremony. I was up bright and early, holding up my right hand and swearing my commitment to Canada and the queen right along with him. Momentous day. I could have done without the judge blathering on about Venezuelan goat cheese, but "Hey"... she's a judge. She can talk about what she pleases. And "no", I'm not making that up. It's out of context obviously, but it was no less a topic of her "greeting/story" to the new Canadians in the room.

Friday night I hung out with Marty. She and Fucktard (that's not me being mean; it's his honest-to-goodness, affectionate nickname) have broken-up again. We had a very long, very heartfelt conversation. I think she appreciates that I listen, but I think I prompt conversation that goes a little darker and sadder than people want to venture. *sigh*
They've been together for more than 2 years now. They've built a house that's almost ready for them to move into. And they've suffered and suffered and suffered a really volatile relationship. Y'know one of those relationships in the movies that every one of a girls friends would tell her to cut and run? Well, I'm not one of those friends in the sense that I know you have to let your emotions run their course. (Look at me and Scooter for fuck's sake.) But I also know she's not really happy, and I lightly, ever-so-gently, acknowledge this with her. She's not unaware. There's just a lot of factors to consider.

Marty and I didn't spend the "entire" evening talking gloom. After I shared my woes, we watched 2 episodes of BBC's "Life" (narrated by Oprah). And when she started falling asleep, I said my good byes and was home by about 2am.

Saturday I was determined to go clothing shopping for formal beach attire that won't make me look like a homeless person or a dreadfully overdressed person when I give my niece away at her wedding. There was a lot of snow Saturday morning, I was lazy and horny and I hate clothing shopping - so, I procrastinated the endeavor well into the late afternoon. But since I needed clothes, I did eventually go. And I'm pleased with the boring pants I picked-up for the occasion. I needed boring pants. Doesn't everyone?

More pleasing, were the sexy athletic long-sleeved shirts I bought for volleyball and football. The strategic striping makes me look like my chest is massive. Me likey! I bought 3 of them for 45 dollars. (total) Which pleases me more.

After the shopping, I met up with Poppycock and we went to the new restaurant that Meaty now works for. PC paid for dinner for my birthday, and we kinda had a somber meal together. It was the first time we'd spoken since last weekend, (we had a scrap) so it was a little awkward. Fights will do that. But I think we were ok at that point.

Sunday, I went for dinner with Eak and used my gift certificate for The Keg that my mother gave me for my birthday. We had a nice meal and then went back to his place to hang out. I got a hero's welcome from the dogs and Eak and I just talked and played cards and listened to the new Kanye West album. I brought a joint with me, so we smoked that, and I have to admit I got a little lost in my own head.
There are still times when I'm around Eak that I just want to throw my arms around him and cry and tell him how much I miss him, and that I wish things could be the way they were before. Times when I miss him so badly because he knows me and loves me.
But that's just the loneliness talking... and the weed... and the nostalgia. We've both moved on, and I wouldn't muddy the waters like that, because I want him in my life, and I know that I don't want him to be my "partner" anymore. I just mourn him a little still. He was my best friend and now he's not. We may get back there some day. But not if I express any doubt in the roles we're developing in each others lives. Truthfully, I don't want him back the way we were. I just got to thinking sadly that many people give a relationship a second chance, and we're just not going to. Luckily, I don't think he wants that, but if he "did", there's nobody who deserves a second chance more than him.
I'm talking all of this sentiment for no good reason. He told me yesterday that he and his boyfriend are moving in together February 1st. There isn't a pang of jealousy or regret in me. So I know that everything is how it should be. Eak's going to be saving $400 a month, which will be good for the dogs, and for his debt. I honestly couldn't be happier for him. My lapse was just self-pity and THC.

For all my visiting this past weekend, I still feel like I've been spending a lot of time alone. But... I'm feeling good about it for the first time since I was single (before Eak) in my early twenties. As I was telling Marty on Friday night, I'm not certain there's anybody for me now. I've grown really wary of letting anyone get close for one thing, and as I've mentioned in here before... I'm a ghost/angel/alien. Who's going to be like me? Better yet... who's going to put up with my identity crisis? I'm better off dating myself for a good long time. The sex sucks, but no one can hurt me.

And sometimes in the time it takes to construct an entry, your plans change entirely. Meaty got called into work, so I'm headed home for a Skype session with Lion. No dinner. No hair cut. Just a chat with someone who "would" have sex with me were it not for the intercontinental boundary of an ocean. Pesky thing, that.

Kanye West - Hell of a Life

I think I just fell in love with a porn star
Turn the camera on, she a born star
Turn the corners in a foreign car
Call the coroners do the CPR
She gave that old nigga a ulcer
Her bitter sweet taste made his gold teeth fake, uh
Make her knees shake, make a priest faint, uh
Make a nun cum, make her cremate, uh
Move downtown, cop a sweet space, uh
Livin’ life like we won the sweepstakes, what!
We headin’ to hell for heaven’s sake, Huh!
Well I’mma levitate, make the devil wait, Yeah!

[Chorus]
Have you lost your mind?
Tell me when you think we crossed the line
No more drugs for me, pussy and religion is all I need
Grab my hand and baby we’ll live a hell of a life

Never in your wildest dreams, never in your wildest dreams
In your wildest
You could hear the loudest screams, comin’ from inside the screen
You a wild bitch
Tell me what I gotta do to be that guy
Said her price go down, she ever fuck a black guy
Or do anal, or do a gangbang
It’s kinda crazy that’s all considered the same thing
Well I guess alotta niggas do gang bang
And if we run trains, we all in the same gang
Runaway slaves all on a chain gang
Bang bang bang bang bang

[Chorus]
Have you lost your mind?
Tell me when you think we crossed the line
No more drugs for me, pussy and religion is all I need
Grab my hand and baby we’ll live a hell of a life

One day I’m gon’ marry a porn star
We’ll have a big ass crib and a long yard
We’ll have a mansion and some fly maids
Nothin’ to hide, we both screwed the bride’s maid
She wanna role play, ‘til I roll over
I’mma need a whole day, at least rolled doja
What party is we goin’ to on Oscar day
‘Specially if she can’t get that dress from Oscar de
La Renta, they wouldn’t rent her they couldn’t take the shame
Snatched the dress off her back and told her, “Get away.”
How could you say they live they life wrong?
When you never fuck with the lights on

[Chorus]
Have you lost your mind?
Tell me when you think we crossed the line
No more drugs for me, pussy and religion is all I need
Grab my hand and baby we’ll live a hell of a life

[Outro]
I think I fell in love with a porn star
And got married in a bathroom
Honeymoon on the dance floor
And got divorced by the end of the night
That’s one hell of a life

Happy Birthday Idiot

Hey!

It's the last day of being 37 for me. And I'm not sure how I feel about it. I've been so consumed by other things and feeling insane, that my life has been passing me by actually.

Tomorrow and Friday I'm off work, partially because I want to party for my birthday, partially because I have 2 remaining holidays for 2010 that I have to burn off before the work upheaval, and partially because the holidays have made me lazy and I want to have extra days to stay in bed. A four-day weekend for my birthday after a 2-day work week sounds pretty good to me. Though it's doing nothing for my ability to get up early and start plodding away at my exercise regime again.

Speaking of exercise... In addition to volleyball starting up again shortly, I've also taken steps to sign-up to play football this spring/summer. The season starts in May. It's flag football, not tackle, but still... lots of running and physical activity to keep me active and sorta social. I say "sorta" because, speaking strictly from my volleyball experience, team sports are great for making you feel like you're part of something, but not necessarily for making friends. In my current mental state it suits me just fine though. I don't have energy for the friends I have, much-less for anyone new. ...Not a very sun-shiny disposition for someone so close to his birthday, but honesty is my thing.

Anyhow... a few random things... my friend Kujo and his husband are in India, welcoming their new baby boy into their lives. I got an e-mail with a picture of the 3 of them together over the weekend. We exchanged niceties and I congratulated them with the ever-so-slight edge of envy. Not that I want a baby. (I don't think so anyway.) But I guess it's "human" to see other peoples lives so filled with things they seemingly want, and wish I wanted something bad enough to get it. I am genuinely happy for them. It's going to do Kujo a world of good to create a loving and supportive home for his son, that won't include the conditioning or conditions of his own Islamic upbringing. Right now I can't even imagine being over Scooter long enough to find someone else to love and be with, and marry and try all the domesticities that Eak and I failed so miserably at, much-less add the care of another human being into the mix. Fuck... I don't even want another pet.

For that matter, as lonely as I am, I don't even want another man. I'm so shredded it's not funny. It's going to take a long while. The way I see it, I've got a long period ahead of me before Scooter realizes that I'm not coming back, then his attempt to show me he wants me in his life again.

I've spent the past few days writing yet another fucking letter, telling him I'm done, but I can't decide whether to send it or not. So much of what I feel for him is "protective". I feel like a tremendous failure to tell him "you're hurting me, and I can't let you anymore", and yet I know he doesn't want my support or intimacy because he's afraid of sending me mixed messages. Because all the physicality doesn't confuse me at all. (sarcasm) But the thing about Scooter is, he's got an incredible disconnect-ability when it comes to his body. He'll give you sex. It means very little. He is that damaged. And yet, it's through physicality that he seeks the spark that will lead to a lifelong love.

This letter I've painstakingly crafted and named "the grenade" has gone through many edits. Some of them loving, on the verge of apologetic for giving up, some of them angrily calling him on his shit and being harsh enough to raise his stupid Aries ire of superiority. All of them, wishing him well with great sincerity and bidding him good bye for good.

The potential for "the grenade" to become a "boomerang" is large. So I know if I send it, I must be prepared to stick with it and shut him out. Good bye, must mean good bye. I don't get angry enough at anyone I love to ever shut them out entirely. My anger though toothy, carries the clout of an angry Koala bear. Scooter knows I'll forgive him again, though I do think this time around he realizes how close I am to being hurt enough to say I can't do it anymore. Fuck... what makes me think I know anything he thinks. I'm a nut case.

Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
--Albert Einstein

I need to let go. And I don't need to tell him I'm letting go. I just know it's only a matter of time before he's back again. Which doesn't have to mean I'll accept him back. But I'd rather have closure and tell him to "stay gone". Though, as an idiot slash addict... the last thing in the world I want is him gone, and any attempt he makes to keep me around is going to make me feel gratified and wanted.

Fuck, am I REALLY, actually, honestly having this conversation with myself online for anyone to read on the eve of my 38th birthday, thereby signifying my adulthood as a man of almost 40, and simultaneously affirming my penchant for the rambling concerns of a 14 year old girl?

Are there not bigger concerns in my life? Yes. Yes there are.

This is not love. It's sickness. It's energy and devotion only deserving of reciprocal, healthy relationships... not this bleeding mess of a fuck-buddy obsession gone terribly awry, 2+ years after the one night stand that I didn't know how to have.

How can I possibly love him? I don't do I? Could anyone listen to me and tell me "yes, sometimes that's how love is right before it magically turns healthy"?

Ugh... Happy Birthday to me. Tomorrow is today, and I disgust myself.

"You're a Disaster" - Dragonette

You're a disaster
Does anything matter to you
Do you ever slow down
Touch your feet to the ground underneath
Faster and faster
Straight for disaster

You're a disaster
And it makes all the laughter look sad
So pull up your socks
Or crash into the rocks you're headed for
What are you after if not disaster

Oh if your mind, oh if your mind needs so much alteration
You better find, you better find another medication
The one that you're using is bruising you

If you're fine, oh if your fine and I am just mistaken
You'll walk the line, you'll walk the line
You'll walk right off the deep end
You'll run into something to ruin you

Aah aah aah aah aah aah aah aah

Yeah the outlook is grim, and the shape that you're in is diminishing
How long can you last for
Before disaster

Oh if your mind, oh if your mind needs so much alteration
You better find, you better find another medication
If you're fine, oh if your fine and I am just mistaken
You'll walk the line, you'll walk the line
You'll walk right off the deep end
You'll run into something to ruin you

Oh if your mind, oh if your mind needs so much alteration (Aah)
You better find, you better find another medication (Aah)
If you're fine, oh if your fine and I am just mistaken (Aah)
You'll walk the line, you'll walk the line
You'll walk right off the deep end
You'll run into something to ruin you
Something to ruin you
Something to ruin you

Alien, Angel or Ghost

I'm in a place right now, where I feel nothing good will ever come from my relationship with Scooter. It will always be my effort for his apathy. And yet, I'm not the type of person who gives up on people that I love. I genuinely wish we could have some kind of friendship. I just can't see that far. And being the person I am, it's always an issue of letting go.

"Let go" of those who can't give you what you want. "Let go" of those who don't care for you the way you want or need them to. Where is the balance of accepting people for who or what they are, and what they can provide you ...with valuing yourself and not allowing people to take you for granted or abuse you? How many people simply walk away from everyone the moment something isn't right? And how many people stay long beyond what any sane person would tolerate?

After our "date" on the 24th, I'll let it die. I'll let it fade. I'll speak when spoken to, and leave an open door, but turn off the flashing neon sign. That in itself should satiate my need to "not give up", but no longer chase the affections of someone who just doesn't care whether I'm around.

I "think" that I'm open and giving, and forthright and genuine... and yet... I fear I don't let anyone in. Furthermore, I don't truly believe anyone "wants" in. I am that odd. I am that "unique". I am that egocentric and arrogant to obsess over it too.

I'm an alien, or an angel or a ghost. I am something otherworldly that doesn't belong here. More and more, I believe there is no one for me in this life. This time around the cogs my goal is to achieve happiness in solitude and enjoy the gift of life as an observer. I say this with only a sparing amount of self-pity, and a whole lot of awareness of what I've been through and how I'm treated.

I quite simply, do not fit in. And I'm largely ok with it, if a little lonely for my knowledge of it.

That person in the conversation who's always listening? That's me. If I don't pipe up and offer my thoughts and opinions on things, no one will ask. Of this there is a guarantee. I could wager money on it.

Of course, there's the possibility that I'm merely uninteresting. This makes me hold my tongue on occasion.

I am forever the pursuer, and never the pursued. And yet, when I stop trying, I am still not pursued; I'm merely given to solitude.

For anyone not following this, I assure you, I'm no longer talking about Scooter exclusively. He's just one of the many.

Whatever...

Like I said before... I just haven't spent enough time alone yet. "Do good and good will come to you."
I have friends that love me, even if I still manage to feel alone in their presence. And if my purpose in this life is not to discover how to live happily alone, then I will cross paths with a man who matches my paradigm - or blows it out of the water.

I am certainly a "strong" personality. There must be some guy out there hurtling toward me at the speed of gravity, that I won't have to "try" to love or be loved by.

It's hard to sound convincing saying you "don't want a boyfriend" when you obsess over loneliness that way I do. I don't view "being alone" as a bad thing. It's just a state of things. And I wouldn't have to be alone if I were willing to settle for the efforts of guys who just don't make the full grade and friends who don't give what they get. I swear I'm not sitting here saying "poor me". I'm just wishful. Longing even. It's not easy to be alone. And I know it's not exclusive to me.
How many people throughout history have pondered the same self-consumed things? Tiresome.

When you hear from me tomorrow, I'll be in a better state of mind. I have my dogs for the week while Eak is in Las Vegas for business. I'm really looking forward to having the boys. They'll be good for my soul, if not my social calendar.

*note to self* Just live your life Johnny. Live it for you. Happiness within. Dig it out. There's gold in them there chasms.

Song of the day is Jann Arden's new song from her live album "Spotlight". Sadly the audio clip I've linked to on YouTube is ridiculously sped-up, probably for copyright purposes. The song is still "listenable", but it's the Jann Arden "chipmunks treatment" to be sure.

Jann Arden - "I Can't Make You Stay"

Not going to lie across the subway track,
Not gonna pin you to the floor
Not gonna bind you up or pull you down
So what are you waiting for

After all we’ve been through,
I’m not gonna beg you

So go on, go on
If you wanna run run
I won’t try to stop you or stand in your way.
My love, my love
It will never change, no.. change.. oh
Seems your mind is made up no matter how I pray
I can’t make you stay.

I’ve given you what’s left of me
Everything I am.
I try to be the ocean you could float on baby
The fuel that made you fast.

If I’m not the dream you dream,
If I don’t make you happy

Just go on, go on
If you wanna run run
I won’t try to stop you or stand in your way.
My love, my love
It will never change no, change.. oh
Seems your mind is made up
No matter how I pray
I can’t make you stay.

Don’t need to see it in your eyes
To know it won’t be long, it won’t be long
Don’t need to hear your goodbyes
To know you’re already gone

So go on, go on
If you wanna run run
I won’t try to stop you or stand in your way…

My love, my love
It will never change no, change.. oh
Seems your mind is made up no matter how I pray
I can’t make you stay.

I can’t make you stay.

Oh no, no….

I can’t make you stay.
I can’t make you….

I'm Like This Sometimes

I got the letter "from me" "to me" in the mail today. And an interesting thing happened: I typed it out to share, and then realized it truly was just for me. There was something very affirming about the process and the decision.

If I had to give it a name, I'd say self-sanctity.

Sorry, not much for blogging fodder, but something I can look back on some day.

Nothing worse than telling someone about a surprise and then never revealing what it is. Nasty goat bastard that I am.

I'm feeling really cerebral today, and I know how boring that is. But I don't really have any readers, which makes this for me. 'Kinda nice.

I wrote something on July 24th of this year, that I'm going to share instead... it's from the "Pink Notebook". I'm not mentioning real names of course... so that may detract from the heartfelt nature of the words. Hopefully one can imagine full, given names substituted for the privately assigned nicknames.

July 24, 2010

No one in this life has loved me the was "Lion" has. May I keep him close and show him nothing but love in my days. Even as I explore love and reconcile love.

May there never be any doubt in my heart that I have loved three men deeply... "Eak", "Scooter", and "Lion".

Each of them have pieces of me known by no other men.

Each of them occupy my soul and being with the purity of wanting what is best for them and to know them the rest of my days. To forgive and be forgiven, to tread with courage to be vulnerable, and the willfulness to do them no intentional harm through life's inevitable transgressions.

.....

It's so singularly meaningful to only me, even now. Perhaps especially now. But I feel blessed to love the way I do and not know any other way to feel about them. I want to know them and love them and give them myself. Maybe one day there will be another name to add to that list with whom the chemistry will be mirrored and perfect. Thus far something has always been just out of reach.

My heart's a vast place. My head's a black hole. Disparaging things could be said, but not by me anymore.

This Baby Takes the Morning Train

****This "bitch-rant-n-rave" (sung to the tune of "shake rattle and roll") is directed at no one in particular and everyone who rides the TTC.

I absolutely, positively HATE people on public transit who get up from their seat or move from their spot LONG Before the bus/subway comes to it's designated stop. Cramming yourself onto the TTC is a delicate balancing act these days, and these people upset the cohesion all because they're paranoid that they're going to miss their stop. I understand that... I really really do. But for fucks sake... when the trains next stop is Yonge/Bloor (for example) do you honestly think you're the only person getting off?? Is this your first time riding the subway?? Are you hoping to be "first" for some unknown chronic-competitive-disorderly reason??? I get so sick of getting bumped and jostled by these people that I've actually begun to make myself an purposeful obstacle just to make them sweat, and for those who refuse to be detained from worming their way to the door whilst the vehicle is still in motion I've even been known to speak to them... (that's something that's frowned upon in today's society, it's an unwritten rule in transit that you should keep to yourself and not be a disturbance) just to let them know "I'm getting off too'. Translation: "fucking chillax before I open a window and personally guarantee you arrive earlier than the rest of us at the next stop". Something I've never actually said to another living being, but the more I traverse this great city, it's bubbling dangerously close to my tactful boiling point. Now that I've said that... I'll say something positive about my commute. "YAY it's fall, which means it's cooler, which means people stink less than they normally do." ....uhh.... ....yeah... I think that's all I can muster for now. Not that I hate my commute entirely. I do enjoy my alone time to read, and listen to my iPod, and conquer the daily sudoku and look at hotties when they're around. But get me on a crowded train or bus when people become rude and unruly and I'm ready to take a swing at someone.
(oh... I feel another one coming on)
I think when I first started riding the subway (daily at least) it was the first time in my adult life that I've been pushed by another human being. To say it leaves me indignant and cranky is a vast understatement. But it happens to people all the time. When you're getting on the subway in particular... it's not at all uncommon to feel hands on your back, pressing you into the person ahead of you. Now what? ...I ask justifies that kind of behaviour? Not one to utter death threats, I have actually responded to pushing with a simple "you push me again, and I'm going to push back" without even turning around to look the offending "pusher" in the eyes. That is SOO not me. I'm not an aggressive person, nor am I rude or even outspoken for that matter.

Look what public transit is doing to me!!!
(now another positive)
Granted there are interesting things happening around you all the time if you're a people watcher. Just a few weeks ago I watched with admiration, a father sitting with his young son (maybe 6 or 7 years old) on the subway and they talked and hugged and laughed, and I genuinely felt warm inside for witnessing such a tender and loving exchange between them. An affectionate (non-creepy) dynamic like that is seldom seen, and I don't think I'll ever forget it. Not to say my dad didn't love me or anything like that. Just it was "closeness" personified and I felt lucky to see it, and almost felt compelled to say something kind to the father about it.

Anyhow, on to a different topic.

The screen-door-in-a-hurricane approach to blogging I've taken sometimes makes me think I'm doing it wrong, if there is such a thing. My friend Bo recently wrote in her blog that she sometimes felt she wasn't talking about things that were worthwhile in her blog, and I can appreciate that completely. I'm no political commentator either, and I don't feel my views on any particular topic are earth-shattering or even relevant at times, but I do feel that it's a great outlet, and I can't believe just how much I enjoy doing it, even if very few people ever read it. I'm a quiet guy by nature, so sometimes I read over the relatively few entries I've made and think "wow, this is me", "I wouldn't ordinarily talk about this stuff to anyone". Maybe that's a good thing too, 'cause I think people in general talk too much and listen too little, and I'd rather be a listener than a talker. Hmmph... I wonder whether Eak would cry foul on these little self-revelations. I'll have to force him to read my blog and give me an honest answer. hee

Alrighty, song o' the day.

"Somewhere Down the Road" by Amy Grant. Amy's been one of my personal faves since I was yea-big. Only recently did I have the opportunity to see her in concert, and I can honestly say she's a beautiful and wise soul. Her music is usually very accessible, and heartfelt. This song is from her album "Behind the Eyes" which was a complete failure commercially, but it's my second-favourite CD by Amy Grant.

So much pain and no good reason why
You've cried until the tears run dry
And nothing else can make you understand
The one thing that you held so dear
Is slipping from your hands

And you say
Why, why, why
Does it go this way
Why, why, why
And all I can say

Somewhere down the road
There'll be answers to the questions
Somewhere down the road
Though we cannot see it now
And somewhere down the road
You will find mighty arms reaching for you
And they will hold the answers at the end of the road

Yesterday I thought I'd seen it all
I thought I'd climbed the highest wall
Now I see the learning never ends
And all I know to do is keep on walking
Walking 'round the bend singing

Why, why, why
Does it go this way
Why, why, why
And all I can say

Somewhere down the road
There'll be answers to the questions
Somewhere down the road
Though we cannot see it now
And somewhere down the road
You will find mighty arms reaching for you
And they will hold the answers at the end of the road

Severed Grapes: A Neutering Tale

I totally forgot to document that Eak and I finally had Porthos fixed. That solemn day was Monday September 18th, and our not-so-wee one is doing well now. Originally it was supposed to be September 11th but upon bringing the little guy into the vet, it turned-out he had an infection that we were unaware of. So he had to go on some medication for a week and we rescheduled the operation to this week.

Eak took him in and stayed with him for the blood test which checked-out perfectly and then the deed was done. The vet's office called to tell us that they had to let Porthos wander free during the day though because he was so distraught and vocal about being cooped-up in a strange place by himself. So he kept everyone company when he wasn't sleeping and we were told he behaved like a perfect little angel as long as he wasn't in the cage. Sounds just like him: create the perfect ruckus til he gets what he wants.

That puppy is such a little bad-ass, even though he's a complete sweetheart. He hates to be alone. He only does things when he feels like it, and he's constantly trying to steal toys, food and attention from poor Cole. But at the same time, he adores Cole... worships him really. It warms my heart. I really must find a way to post pictures from work. I've got some sweet shots that Eak snapped while I was giving both dogs a bath on the weekend.

But back to the neutering for a moment. We're still contending with the guilt of having Porthos fixed. It could just be a "male" camaraderie thing goin' on, but there really is something so basically "evil" about fixing an animal. Even the term "fixing" alludes that something is broken and needs our intervention. I understand why we do it to them, and maybe it's just a cosmic trade-off that an animal pays for enjoying the love and attention of being domesticated, but I still feel like we don't have the right or rather shouldn't have the right. With Porthos, there is a certain comfort in knowing we're not ending his breed. He's a purebred Basset Hound, and although they don't seem to be a "popular" dog, there's no danger of his bloodline completely disappearing. Cole is a completely different story however. It still bothers me (more often than I'd like to admit to the sane) that we had him neutered because he is so perfectly unique. His appearance, his personality, temperament and behaviour.... Cole is one special little dude. And there will never be another dog like him. No offspring, no other occurrence even close to his uniqueness. THAT makes me sad, because I can't help but think he could've fathered puppies that would have passed along all his best traits to a new generation of mixed-breed dogs. (Cole is a beagle/black lab/daschund mix for anyone wondering). -sigh- My special little guy. All in all, I'm just grateful to have such a wonderful dog, and now a second one. I love 'em.

Scattered Ramblings

So much can happen in one week, or perhaps I'd be more precise in saying a week can pass so quickly as I feel like so much has been going on, but I'd be hard-pressed to produce an actual list. My life is most certainly uneventful when compared to others. It's just too damned busy for my own personal liking right now. But maybe that's exactly what I need.

To summarize quickly: first of seven modules complete with a final mark of 84%. Second module in progress with extreme bouts of anxiety. Marketing, marketing, marketing. Le sigh!

In happy news, I have a dear, close friend KittyCole, moving to Toronto very soon from Edmonton. She's accepting a fantastic job at CHFI and after 8 long years we'll be living in the same city again! Hell; I would have been equally thrilled at the prospect of living in the same province again. Same city is just cake! And of course my friend Bo and her fiance Andrew are moving to Toronto again after a year's absence. I'm hoping to get reacquainted and spend more time with them once they're here. The last time around I think I missed-out on the opportunity to spend more time with my "Bo", and then before I knew it they were off to Ottawa.

I've got a minor belief that people are cosmically connected, and that the strongest of these connected souls continue to be buoyed to one another throughout their existence. The fact that I've got 2 good friends returning to close proximity seems to fortify that theory.

Being a better friend is something I've got to work harder at. It would seem I've fallen out of practice over the years. It's odd when you're with someone and that relationship becomes the focal point of your life. I've learned (...still learning) friendships just seem to fade in and out throughout the course of life. At a much younger age, that concept would've horrified me, because my friends meant everything. But I've grown much more comfortable and accepting of good-bye's, and the knowledge that true friendships can rekindle in a heartbeat.
I'm truly fortunate that my Eak holds the title of both partner and best friend. It's played a big role in me falling out of touch with other people for sure, but I've never felt a void since I'm always content to just be with him. Lately though, I am realizing that I'm sadly short on good friends. I've attributed that to the fact that I'm generally disappointed in people and not nearly as tolerant of little personality quirks as I used to be. People annoy me. Perhaps that's my shortcoming, but at any rate, that only accounts for my lack of "new" close friends. The close friends that I've fallen out of touch with, there's no legitimate excuse for really. Maybe I need to realize this re-convergence of friends as a catalyst to reach out. Hopefully I will.

In more frivolous pursuits, I really must document that the Disney animated film "The Wild" is absolute drivel. What prey-tell am I doing watching a kids movie? Eak and I LOVE animation and we will on regular occasion pick up the big feature presentation DVD's for our own viewing pleasure. Favourites: The Incredibles, Monsters Inc., The Little Mermaid, and the like. We finished watching "The Wild" last night and I have actual regrets about the misspent time.

It was quite simply too juvenile to be entertaining to anything less than a bound and gagged 4 year old, subdued with a Ritalin IV drip. Yeah, that's harsh, but I generally enjoy these movies and I've seen enough of them to both recognize and appreciate the merits they hold for the young'uns they're directed at. So in over-stepping my role as someone who has no business critiquing a kids movie (having no kids and not being one myself) I dare say that "The Wild" is a big, though impressively pretty, steaming pile of excrement. The plot was contrived - yeah I know - but even more so than usual. The story was all over the place. The voice-characterizations seemed completely ad-libbed without any heed to where the script intended the story to go. (so so very much shouting and incoherent nattering - and actors assuming their performances were much more funny than they actually were) (ie: the scenery-chewing William Shatner -god love him- as a villainous, carnivore-aspired wildebeest)

Anyhow... enough about that and on to the song selection of the day. A favourite of mine from the early 90's: "Money Can't Buy It" by Annie Lennox. I've never "had" money, in my sweet, short life, but this song is more about acquisition and places that we "hide" in a futile search for happiness and fulfillment through avenues that can never bring us to those things. Or at least that's my interpretation. hee Interestingly enough, Annie actually "rapped" in this song... it's disguised by the musical tone of her voice, but the bridge is definitely rap.

Money can't buy it...baby
Sex can't buy it...baby
Drugs can't buy it...baby
You can't buy it...baby

I believe that love alone might do these things for you
I believe in love alone yea yea

Take the power to set you free
Kick down the door and throw away the key
Give up your needs...
Your poisoned seeds
Find yourself elected to a different kind of creed

I believe that love alone might do these things for you
I believe that love alone might do these things for you
I believe in the power of creation
I believe in the good vibration
I believe in love alone yea yea

Won't somebody tell me what we're coming to
It might take forever till we watch those dreams come true
All the money in the world won't buy peace of mind
You can have it all but you still won't be satisfied

Money can't buy it...baby
Sex can't buy it...baby
Drugs can't buy it...baby
You can't buy it...baby

Now...Hear this Pay attention to me
'Cause I'm a rich white girl and it's plain to see
I got every kind of thing that the money can buy
Let me tell you all about it
Let me amplify
I got DIAMONDS
You heard about those
I got so many that I can't close
my safe
at night
in the dark
Lying awake in a sick dream

I believe that love alone might do these things for you
I believe that love alone might do these things for you
I believe in the power of creation
I believe in the good vibration
I believe in love alone yea yea


****as a PS.... So much can evidently happen in a single Blog entry. What a scattered mess. But oh well.