I'm not running anymore

It's time

2011-11-02T23:12:00.001-07:00

I've been here three years, incidentally.

Time to move.

http://thesunlightthatisleft.blogspot.com/

I love Elbow. And I will stop being a sappy chick now.

2011-11-02T22:46:00.001-07:00

So yes I guess I'm asking you to back a horse that's good for glue, and nothing else

2011-11-02T22:31:00.000-07:00

I pulled the thing from my windshield wiper and it was a note from the RCMP advising me that I was using an anti-theft device, and that there wasn't anything worth stealing in plain view, but that I had failed to lock my car.
That's nice.
Now maybe stop strolling through London Drugs' parking lots and start busting the one person in every four fucking cars that is bombing along in the HOV lane with only one sole fucking occupant. Sometimes? Sometimes? When I haven't been sleeping well and I have PMS like what I have now? I think about pulling my car out into the HOV lane and just stopping the next numb nuts that somehow thinks his time is more valuable than mine.
Yeah, no: it's not. I'm pretty sure I'm the shit. I'm pretty sure I am the most goddamn important thing in the world so you just slow that SUV with the tinted windows down and take a nice long gander at my hastily applied bumper sticker with the bubble in it that I haven't been able to smooth out and you just watch me blow you kisses in my rear view mirror.
Okay.
In things that actually did happen today...
I ate the lunch that Michael made me today. Yeah. Just over a week ago I'm contemplating moving in with my mother because the thought of ever returning to North Vancouver and possibly accidentally bumping into Michael anywhere is just too painful.
Now I'm happily eating a tuna salad and wondering why I don't do such a good job chopping up vegetables into nice, bite sized pieces. The food I make is a choking hazard. On more than one level.
Michael came over tonight to continue our nine day discussion. He brought me Clif bars because he knows I am going to do a relay race in Whistler this weekend, and he brought me a Kinder surprise. Guess what the surprise was? It took me three hours to cobble that thing together, I tell ya.
So yes. We love each other and we're trying and we're going to try. We are going to give it a fair shake and keep the lines of communication open.
We're both trying not to get ahead of ourselves. A week and a half ago I thought I was in the middle of a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from. And now I think that he's in some fugue state and he is going to wake up from it momentarily and declare that he is quite sure he hates me.
I hope not, because he smells quite nice.
I think Sarah Harmer put it nicely when she said:

In the clatter of the afternoon
In the sunlight that is left
We can make a list of things
To forget the false starts
And the loose strings
The feelings of regret that ring
On a day when you haven't done much of anything

The RCMP left something on my windshield and I'm too tired to care what it is.

2011-10-31T22:33:00.000-07:00

Though I'm a loquacious son of a bitch even I - apparently - have my limits. I'm tired. This has been a tiring week of what I would deign is a meld between confession and contractual negotiations. I've never been good at either because... why confess or negotiate?
Apparently blundering through life does have its downside. I am the case in point. I kind of knew I was pushing the proverbial envelope in this regard, but it wasn't enough to stop. And then bam! Life as I knew it was over.
And then we realized that we loved each other. Like, a lot. And that we hadn't been the best to one another. And that resentments had piled up silently over the years and that they were about to topple and smother us. And that we never really did effectively communicate. When your partner of 11 years confesses that they weren't sure that you were the one? Kinda hard to take. But understandable? Yes.
Maybe it's worse that I always knew that he was the one but that not only did I not work to facilitate that but instead I worked actively against it.
Anyways. Day seven of negotiations saw Michael say "you need to write some of this down so we don't forget it".
So here are the things that I don't want to forget:

Michael coming to collect his keys and me having nothing defensible to say, and not being able to stand because my legs had gone out from underneath me
Michael crying and telling me that I had broke his heart
Discovering that, after 11 years, we have some resilient connection that has taken one hell of a beating, but still draws us together
Our history
That we have spoken more honestly and effectively and fluently in the past week than we have in the past 11 years
Po and C coming to take care of me on Monday, and then going to my mom's because I couldn't stand to be alone for even one night
That we never fell so far in our relationship, nor gained so much insight and understanding and appreciation of one another

Surely the horseshoe is nearly tapped out at this point, but I'm okay with that. If the last bit of good fortune that I wring out of that thing is that I can get a second (okay, third) chance at having a happy, lasting, healthy relationship with Michael? Then that horseshoe has been worth all the times that I set off the metal detectors at airports and all the awkward proctology exams.
It's funny, too, because tonight we discussed what an influence Michael has been on my life. I was with him from roughly 24 years old onwards. About a third of my life. And he has definitely shaped some of my views and thoughts (though I'm no slouch, myself). And so it's kind of funny that we have dealt with this so well, in that most men would have washed their hands of me but he didn't. And when he asked what I would do if I were in his position I admitted that I wouldn't wash my hands of him either.
Love? Idiocy? Horseshoe? Kindred spirits? Over exhaustion?
Time will tell.

Optics

2011-10-30T01:17:00.000-07:00

So. Here I am again.
Michael has said that this has been the worst week. Surely it has. It has been worse for him than for me. He said "put yourself in my shoes: what would you do?" and so I tried to work through it and it was terrible.
I don't know if it is right or wrong that we have been spending so much time together trying to resolve this. I was the one that - ultimately - created this mess. And I have a rather significantly vested interest in this relationship. I want it to work. So is it fair to be with someone who is hurting so badly while at the same time having an agenda?
And yet we are talking. And talking and talking and talking. We have been out for dinner twice now and we have paid the bill and we just sit there and talk and talk. We didn't do that when we were together. It can't be a bad thing. I just wish - we both wish - that the impetus for this gushing dialogue had been something other than what it was.
I'm exhausted. We're both exhausted. What a fucking clusterfuck. What a shit storm of epic proportions. And Michael is emailing some of his friends that are his age and they have kids that are getting married. And here we are, at 34 years old and 46 years old and we're just figuring out that honesty and open communication are key.
It's funny because I thought I was smart. And I see people in other relationships and I can see where they might go wrong, or what looming problems they might have on the horizon. But in my own life? No. Nada. I'm an independent girl in an independent relationship and everything is set up just the way I had always imagined it.
Except no. It wasn't. And instead of dealing with it, and working on my relationship to try and get it to where I wanted it to be, I supplemented it and I didn't talk about things like sadness or loneliness or romance or connectedness.
And to make things more confusing, Michael kept on talking about the "optics" of it. And I was thinking, "What? Is this a computer peripheral thing?" and then he would bring it up again and I would be like "yeah... the... optics" and I'm going "is this his way of telling me that he has glaucoma?".
Yeah. I just Wiki'd "optics" and I'm just kind of concerned that he has picked up on some new, hip lingo before I have.
Don't get me wrong: I'm concerned about the behavior and properties of light, including its interactions with matter and the construction of instruments that use or detect it as much as the next guy, but I'm a bit puzzled. Like, am I supposed to wear sunglasses the next time we have a conversation?
Optics aside, maybe we both weren't seeing things clearly. Maybe we saw what we wanted to see. Or maybe we deliberately didn't see what was glaringly obvious.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's ass

2011-10-27T22:50:00.000-07:00

It's been five days of panic attacks, anxiety, crying, emotional emails, lack of sleep, loss of appetite, regret, remorse, sadness and hurt.
Up until Sunday night I never knew I had the capacity to wound so deeply. So deeply that when Michael said "You broke my heart" mine started to break as well.
What happens when you so badly hurt the person that has become, over the past 11 years, as integral and essential as a family member? The person that you talk to every day, travel with, spend all your free time with and who is your partner in life and your lover and also your best friend?
Well, you rely really heavily on your friends. And you take a lot of melatonin to get to sleep. You go stay with your mom because you contemplate if a fall from a 10 story balcony would kill you, or if it would just severely injure you. You question what you're capable of and you wonder how well you actually know yourself.
The ironic thing is that the one person that I wanted to talk to, to be with during this, was Michael. And the doors of communication did open on Tuesday with emails full of anger and vitriol that were hard to take because they were justified. They came at odd hours and so I knew he wasn't sleeping. He was sad and angry and hurting and he wanted to lash out at me and he wanted me to know how badly my actions had impacted his life.
They were hard to read, the emails, but I was happy that he was at least communicating with me.
Tuesday I felt like all we did was email each other all day long. And the tone seemed to soften. I was staying at my mom's at the time and I texted to ask if I could come and see him and he said "sure". I left feeling quite confident I was marching to my death but instead we talked.
And we've talked - face to face - for three days now. Things were confessed and admitted. Feelings were expressed. Everything was laid out on the table and it wasn't always pretty and sometimes it was sad or surprising, but it was all honest. And we both learned a lot.
We both gave each other too much space because we thought that was what the other wanted. We both had unmet needs but we didn't communicate them because we didn't want to pressure the other person. And so we ended up in a stagnant, four year spiral that did have its bright points: social outings; travel; running; the weekends, but the day to day intimacy wasn't there. And we weren't progressing.
At this point surely I am rambling due to sheer stress and upset and exhaustion, and maybe all I really wanted was to remember this night and to doff my cap to the most frank and honest conversation that Michael and I have had, possibly, in the entire duration of our relationship.
No matter the outcome, I am infinitely grateful for the incredibly intelligent, considerate, insightful, respectful conversation that we had tonight. And for the fact that we have seen each other - one on one - more during this week than we have in years, and that's a testament to something.
Of course to really put it succintly, we need no one other than Dan the Man.

Fancy meeting you here

2011-10-24T01:05:00.000-07:00

I could continue on with the rest of my vacation, but really? Why bother.
I fucked up my relationship rather irrevocably today because I'm an amazing asshole and so now I get to experience that wonderful part of one's life where you wake up, and for the first few moments everything is cool and then the reality of it all sinks in and you get that sick, sinking feeling in your stomach and you wonder how you are going to drag yourself through another day.
The best bit is that I orchestrated this whole shit fest on my own and am solely responsible for it.
Solely.
Guess that's going to be a key term going forward.
Michael deserves better, though. He always has. He has the propensity to appreciate and make the best out of everything.
Anyways.

Post race

2011-10-23T01:23:00.000-07:00

I was actually surprisingly sore after the race. Not sure what that was about as it was a flat course and I have felt better coming off of other courses that were equally or more challenging.
Regardless, we set out to see the city the next day. We checked out the John Hancock building (we were on the 94th floor, or something equally ridiculous).
We went to the help desk there and the gentleman had run the Vancouver marathon in his day and was very happy to help us figure out a good boat tour to take, which we did and imbibed much architecture.
I like architecture. I have a good eye for it. I might've been good at it, except that it requires clients and I would likely have clients that would want me to design pink stucco houses and I would probably knock the plans out of their hands and say "less is more" and die bankrupt. I love Howard Roark.
The architectural boat tour was excellent. We took in tonnes of amazing buildings and I wish I had somehow recorded the commentary but the buildings do speak for themselves.
It was a bit like visiting an art gallery with all the buildings on display. Modernism. Post modernism. Classicism. Prairie style. A little Art Nouveau. I love Art Nouveau.
Then we went for a random dinner and beers at a place called Rock Bottom.
Insert lifestyle joke here.

Race day

2011-10-22T22:09:00.000-07:00

Michael and I were both relatively calm considering: a) we were running one of the Big Five marathons and that b) it was going to be the largest we'd ever participated in.
We were seeded in Corral B and we got there a little too late and I swear we made it into that corral with maybe five minutes to spare before the gun went off. People were shoving me. It reminded me of the Vancouver Sun Run, except all these bastards were about to run 26.2 miles. I looked behind me and all I could see was a sea of people forever. I can't imagine would it would be like to be in the general registration area. It was just intense. We could see the start line and were pretty nicely situated, but it still took maybe two minutes just to get to the start line.
It was hot (or for me, at least). We counted down and I kissed Michael and wished him good luck and we were off. I kept up with him for a while but it was hard to stick together with the crowd being so dense and Michael is faster than me and I actually did hold back a bit because I tend to go out too fast and because it was hot. I was sweating within the first mile.
It was nuts. It reminded me of Boston with the streets lined with people screaming the runners on. Blaring music. Bleachers. Signs. Flags. It was amazing and overwhelming. For the second time I regretted not having my name on my shirt because these people wanted to know you, to cheer for you, to encourage you. It was incredible.
The aid stations were massive. They were carpeted in discarded Gatorade and water cups and they seemed to last forever. The volunteers were excellent.
During our Saturday afternoon run we saw everyone working to put up tents and fencing and tables and I don't know what it takes to orchestrate the accommodation of 40+ thousand runners, but the Chicago marathon pulled it off seamlessly. It was meticulously and perfectly run and I am just so incredibly grateful to all the people that worked so hard and tirelessly to make it such a streamlined and well-organized event. I ran out of water after about an hour and I relied on the aid stations and the impromptu garden hoses for the duration.
And the crowds. We ran through different neighbourhoods and there were bands and fans and spectators and just when you thought there was a bit of a lull you would turn a corner and people were peering over overpasses and standing on the cross sections of bridges. It was phenomenal.
Some guy behind me said "Go Canada!" and I turned back and said thanks and he was from Wisconsin and it was just random. I was wearing a shirt that was pretty subtle, but had maple leafs on it and I think it said "Canada" on one of the short sleeves. A couple of Canadians passed me and said hey, and I tried to acknowledge everyone that cheered for me/Canada on the course. One woman even wished me a happy Thanksgiving which was pretty awesome because I can't remember the last Thanksgiving that I've spent with my family since I'm always running that weekend.
The heat was a bit problematic for me. I think I also under trained a bit. But overall I was satisfied with my time.
Came around the final corner on the course and saw a couple of people that were in distress but were receiving help. I later found out that a fireman roughly my age died near the finish and I'm quite sure I ran past him. It's a weird scene. You don't know. Maybe you've got a heart problem. Maybe you were pushing too hard at the end.
After the race was done I just kept thinking about this guy's family. Waiting for him to cross. Waiting for him at their designated meeting area. It was sad and it cast a pall on the day. You never want to see or hear that, but it's statistically likely to happen with that many people.
I crossed the finish. Grabbed a medal and some food and a beer (seriously: they were handing them out) and met up with some fellow NSAers and Michael.
I did my usual 3:39 and change. Michael was 3:13. It wasn't a PB for either of us, but we both enjoyed it and it was nice to see some North Van faces at the end.
I got a sunburn.
Then we tried to nap but couldn't. And then went for coffee. And then met up with a bunch of North Shore people for dinner.

Don't be a bag

2011-10-22T20:47:00.000-07:00

We took the subway downtown and got off in a rather shady area. We're lugging our stuff around and it's dark and late and I don't know where we are and so we go into a McDonald's to use the facilities and we're pulling out maps and I'm thinking we look a little like easy marks with our pasty white faces and our overall stunned appearance and then I see this guy who looks like he walked straight off the Law and Order television set. Black, built, jeans, diamond earrings, cop badge on a chain around his neck. I gotta talk to this guy.
I ask him if he knows where the Fairmont is and he takes one look at us and kind of laughs and says he'll get us to the Fairmont. Leads us out onto the street, stops and directs traffic, gets us a cab, tells the cabbie to get us to the Fairmont and basically says "welcome to Chicago". It was awesome. I'm sure he's got a million other things to do than to deal with a couple of wayward tourists but it was just the quintessential greeting and he was so bloody nice. I'll never forget it.
They track Michael's bag down and deliver it to our hotel room at like 1am in the morning or some damn thing. It was a good thing, though, because all his running gear was in his suitcase and we were already making plans to try and replace it all, but running a marathon with all new gear? Not a great idea.
The Fairmont was nice, but what is it with luxe hotels nickel and dimeing you to death? $15 a day for WiFi. What? I'm already paying $200 a night for the room. It was kind of weird in that regard, but on the plus side it was close to the start line and it was really quiet and we slept brilliantly when we were there.
Slept in until "noon" the next day, which was really only 10am our time. Putzed around a bit and then hopped the shuttle out to the package pick up. It was hot. I had packed more for my Montreal/Ottawa leg of the trip and it was sunny and I was wearing jeans and did I mention it was hot and I was tired and cranky.
I could have been less of a bitch on that Saturday. I admit that.

It was windy

2011-10-22T20:25:00.000-07:00

We were in a cab shortly after 4am on October 7th. Because we booked our flights separately (Michael was going round trip, I was not) we were flying with different carriers. His flight had a layover in Phoenix and mine in Portland. The Portland airport is nice! It was a really nice and seamless trip until I arrived at O'Hare and my baggage seemingly didn't make it.
There was one lone bag on the baggage carousel, going round and round and I kept waiting for another one to come and it didn't so I was glad that I had all my running gear in my carry on. I went over to the Alaska Airlines baggage rep and told her my bag was missing and she started asking me what it looked like and I pointed at the lonely suitcase making its way past us and I said "it looks like that, but it's red. It's Swiss Army". So she types some stuff into the system and scans my baggage code and tells me that it looks like my bag was mis-tagged and she pulls the lone suitcase off the carousel and I look at it and then I notice my handwriting on the bag tag and I say "oh, that's my bag".
Yeah.
It seems that at one point I had borrowed my mom's red luggage to go somewhere. And it's ingrained in my tiny pea head that my luggage is red now. It's not. It's grey with orange goddamn trim. It was my bag that had been circling the carousel ceaselessly while I fretted about how I would have to buy a whole new wardrobe in Chicago.
It gets better, though.
Seems there are five terminals at O'Hare. Didn't know that. Took a while (and a train) to make it over to where Michael was once he landed. I'm half kicking myself and half laughing about the whole ridiculous baggage incident and I finally find Michael. And? They've lost his luggage.
For real, like.

But I guess driving for a week or two puts words in your mouth.

2011-10-22T20:14:00.000-07:00

I'm home now. Got up in Ottawa at 2:15am PST and now it's past 8pm and I tried to lie down a few hours ago but I got happy feet and now I'm overtired and exhausted and kind of keyed up. Fun!
Now to try and remember the last two weeks in the correct sequence and get down some of the memorable things that I'd like to look back on fondly.
I'll probably fall asleep on my keyboard.

Still no pants

2011-10-19T18:45:00.000-07:00

Took the high speed bullet train from Montreal to Ottawa today. Trains are a nice way to travel. The trees on the east coast are beautiful this time of year: yellow, orange, green, red and brown.
Ottawa. Hmmm... I don't want to critique anything just yet. Hoping to get the lay of the land tomorrow. Plus a tour of the Parliament buildings. I wonder what the likelihood of getting a tour of the White House is these days.
Also planning to go to the National Gallery on Thursday as it's calling for rain.

I need pants

2011-10-18T08:37:00.000-07:00

So I have depleted most of my clothing and was not successful finding a laundromat in Chicago and so I have bought some new clothes, but am having the damnedest time trying to find pants in Montreal. Apparently they don't wear pants here: they wear leggings. And the pants that they do wear are slim fit with tapered legs and I just absolutely hate those. Oh, and it appears pleats might be coming back in.
Jesus.
Anyways, hand washed my cargo pants in the sink this morning.
Off to see the Biosphere. Or maybe the Biodome. Je n'est ce pas.

Whee!

2011-10-15T16:14:00.000-07:00

I am watching a Matthew Good concert on Bravo! in a hotel in Montreal while my hips start to recover from the beating they endured after running the Chicago Marathon.
Obviously there is a lot to write about it, but instead here is a picture of the cathedral at Notre Dame. Cause I'm such a god fearing Canuck, don't you know.
Oh, funny story: running the marathon there were a couple of guys behind me and they were talking about a third guy that they knew who was running up ahead and they said "he's wearing a white singlet" and "he has grey hair" and "he doesn't like Canadians" (I was wearing a shirt emblazoned with maple leafs on it) and so I turned around and smiled and he smiled at me and I said "everyone likes Canadians". It was funny.

I wonder how windy it will be.

2011-10-06T10:25:00.000-07:00

Number 9.
Go go gadget hip!

The wealthiest 1%

2011-10-05T09:04:00.000-07:00

Occupy everything.

My so called life

2011-10-02T00:23:00.000-07:00

I've mentioned that I have some pretty amazing friends. I went for an overdue coffee with one of them downtown today. Two hours later my throat was sore from talking so much and my perception had changed. There are few people in life that impact me the way L does.
We went to Trees Coffee on Granville. When I worked on Granville back in the day when I was called "Boots" I would walk by and always see this guy with white hair and a beard sitting outside the coffee shop. When Michael and I did our "tourist in our own hometown" thing a while ago we walked by and he was there. And he was there again today. He must be there every day.
I don't know what to make of him. He doesn't talk to anyone or hassle them. He just sits there for hours and uses their bathroom occasionally.
And then I think: me and L come here every couple of months and we have different variations of the same conversation.
What do I want. What do I want.
Bachelor life.
I sit here tonight and I am king. I get whatever I want whenever I want it. It loses its lustre.
Maybe that's why I run marathons. It's not a given. You have to work hard to get it.
Anyways. Between us, Michael and I have three bikes. I have a 620 square foot apartment.
I looked up bike storage options on the net today.

Safeway has STILL not responded to my petulant email and also I have PMS.

2011-09-28T21:41:00.000-07:00

If there's something I like (besides food, wine, coffee, eating out, travelling, reading and sleeping) it's music. I listen to music pretty much every minute that I'm awake. One thing that disturbs me is going for dinner at someone's place and they don't have any music on. Like: what is that about? It doesn't have to be loud, but a little jazz in the background is rather paramount. I will take it so far as to say that I don't trust people that don't listen to music a lot. I also don't trust people that drink Budweiser.
At any rate, I was listening to KCSM some weeks ago (as I am right now) and the music was just tremendous (I will make it to Yoshi's. I will.) and they were asking for money and I've been listening to them for a couple of years and I've never given them anything and so I donated $50. $50 gets you a cloth bag with the KSCM logo on it. I do admit that I didn't want to give them just cash, I wanted something for it - but not because I like things, but because I like to advertise for organizations that I love which is why my clothing doesn't have any discernible logos. I have a SomaFM shirt because I donated to them. And a CBC shirt because I love them. And a funny shirt with Obama on it because I like him a lot. I have a shirt with a tree on it, and another with a bicycle on it, both of which I bought from a local street vendor and it works well because I like local things and I also like trees and bicycles.
Long story short, I made my donation and waited for the bag to come. And waited. And waited. And then I resolved it was lost in the cross border mail and I thought about emailing them but then I thought whatever, the point was to donate to them and I did and so I hope someone deserving ended up with my KCSM bag.
And then. Today. I come in from my run and check my mail and lo! The bag is there! And it's not just some run of the mill bag. It's made from 9 recycled bottles. And it is slick. I'm now torn between doing my grocery shopping with it, or with my Powell's Books bag. You see my dilemma. Clearly. Also enclosed was a bumper sticker which is now affixed to my laptop. It made my week. If you like jazz, please check out KCSM and consider donating and possibly going to Yoshi's with me.
The other thing that I did today was become addicted to another television show (as I have watched all three seasons of "The IT Crowd" currently proffered on Netflix). This show would be "Rescue Me". And what can I say? I love and have always loved Denis Leary. He actually sings my own personal anthem.

Safeway has not responded to my petulant email.

2011-09-27T23:08:00.001-07:00

So here is some more Dan Mangan.

Yep. Time for another "Greenberg" plug.

2011-09-26T23:51:00.001-07:00

Safeway angry letter

2011-09-26T23:31:00.000-07:00

I do so love writing angry letters. Here is the most recent edition. And yes, I understand that I bear no small similarity to Roger Greenberg from the movie "Greenberg" and I am okay with that.

To Whom it May Concern,

I live in North Vancouver. I have quite studiously avoided shopping at your stores because of your incredibly uncompetitive prices and your rather hit-and-miss customer service. Until recently I have done my shopping almost exclusively at Extra Foods on Lonsdale because it’s affordable, and because I have had an almost perfect seller/customer relationship with them. Today’s incident, however, does bear mention and I thought I would share it with you, as I will also be sharing it with my friends and family.

I stopped into your store at 13^th and Lonsdale today to pick up some dairy products. I got in line after a woman that was seemingly an off-duty Safeway cashier given the dialogue that she had struck up with the current cashier regarding shift schedules. As I waited to have my items rung through I noticed the cashier was only ringing through approximately 50 – 70% of the items of her co-worker. No small portion of items skipped the scanner and were placed into the “customer’s” bag. As though this wasn’t enough, the customer then advised the cashier “Can you please make it around $50?”, which I interpreted to mean that the cashier was to adjust the bill accordingly.

The cashier then proceeded to ring my items through and they were, as usual, overpriced. She did not ask for my Safeway Card and I had to prompt her. Oddly, none of my items mysteriously jumped over the scanner and landed into my bag. She gave me my adjusted total and I paid with a credit card. During this interaction the cashier said next to nothing to me. I inserted my card into the slot, retrieved it and waited for the typical “have a good afternoon Ms. R-“ and even that wasn’t forthcoming. I took my receipt and put it in my bag and paused, and it was after this prolonged period that she wished me a good afternoon.

Undoubtedly you can see that no small amount of transgressions occurred here. And I understand (and agree) that employees and their families receive a discount on their purchases. But one would think that that would be a percentage taken off the total bill, and not a plan in which one was able to pick and choose what they paid for. And furthermore: I don’t care if your employees are ripping you off as a way to get back at you for unfriendly labour practices. But your prices are high (just Wiki yourself) and it really does rather rot my socks when your employees are getting a five fingered discount while I get bent over the check out scanner.

I look forward to your response.

I miss my cheap chick peas

2011-09-26T22:56:00.000-07:00

The Extra Foods that was a 90 second walk from my apartment has closed. It is going to be torn down and then rebuilt: but with an amazing amount of condominiums on top of it, and some townhouses too. Basically I will never be able to sell my place ever, and I am going to be a bachelor until sometime in my mid-fifties. Ha ha, who I am kidding? I should start stockpiling cats now.
Anyways, I hate Safeway because they're bastards. I get vigorously rogered every time I go into that sodding store and so I've taken to shopping at the local fruit and veg place and am routinely kicking myself for not doing this sooner. I bought three huge bags of produce there last weekend for $22 and I'm still trying to get through it all. I do, however, have to buy my dairy at Safeway and so I went in there today to do just that and here is what happened. And yes, I realize that this would be but a minor nuisance to someone with a 50 hour work week that had to get in and out and get dinner on the table for a family of four, but because I live the life of Riley I was able to soak it all in and drink wine and blog about it later. As one does.
So, I clearly pick the wrong line up. It's something I'm rather adept at. The woman in front of me is maybe in her early forties. The ridden hard and put away wet kind, but I spied wedding rings and so there's likely a lucky Mr. in the picture that she was going home to. At any rate, she's jawing off to the cashier in such a manner that I'm guessing that she's actually a cashier at Safeway as well. The woman ringing her through was a bit rough around the edges as well, and really didn't seem to be in much of hurry, conversing with her mate as she flipped through the latest offering of "US" or "In Touch" or something equally intellectual.
Am I being judgemental? Yes. It's what I do.
And this is what started to happen. I'm watching the cashier scan her coworkers' items through and she has a failure rate between 30 and 50%. A couple of items made it across the scanner, and then it was one made it, and one skipped it, and one made it, and one went into the bag.
I will interject here that at one time, being a Safeway cashier was somewhat lucrative. Perhaps they were unionized? I'm not sure, but the pay and the benefits were good and then management busted them all down to part time to get around paying extended health care and all the other brilliant things that corporations do to increase their bottom line. I get it. I used to work for Maersk and one of their logos was "Our equipment is our number one asset" or something to that extent. Well, the fucking shipping containers weren't working overtime every day - unpaid - to get the financial statements out on time now, were they?
Back to the story.
As though the lackadaisical way in which this cashier rang her mate through wasn't generous enough, the woman actually said to her "Could you make it around $50?".
Yeah. I'm standing three feet from her. Um, could you make mine around $10? I get that you don't get paid a lot and that you don't have any loyalty to your company but heretofore I thought that I was getting heinously abused because maybe... Safeway donated a lot to charity. Or perhaps they had a magnificent gain sharing program. Not so much. It appears that people that work there get to eat for half price. Neat trick.
And again: I understand if you're trying to right a perceived wrong in your mind by doing this? But when I right my perceived wrongs? I do it surreptitiously. I hide my apathy and my bitter mistrust. No one's the wiser. Good mornings to everyone!
When you give your buddy a 50% discount as I watch you're not just fucking Safeway, you're fucking me.
And nobody fucks with the Jesus.

But mostly... I'm just mad that I didn't make it to Dan Mangan this afternoon.

2011-09-25T01:53:00.001-07:00

I stand by my last post

2011-09-25T01:41:00.000-07:00

So, fundamentally, after $84,000 of therapy I'm talking to my mom on the phone the other day and she intimates that I'm never content. I'm restless.
I work out six days a week.
I change jobs - on average - every four years.
I've lived in six different places in fifteen years.
In the last month I've slept in four other beds, not including my own.
I've already booked my hotel room for Boston next year.
I'm not sure what that means. It could be a chemical imbalance. I often wonder when I discuss things in therapy if they are things that I need to change or if they are what they are and they make up the fundamental structure of who I am and so, by altering them, I would alter my personality.
Now let's throw in the fact that I'm very independent and that I'm beholden to no one and lo, we have a shit storm on our hands. We have a restless girl with opportunities and resources who refuses to answer to anyone that wants to do what she wants when she wants, and she can't understand why anyone would stand in her way as she careens through life.
I have a four day, 32 hour work week with a pension. I have a boyfriend who made an amazing spread for me last night with all my favourite foods just because he loves it when I come over. I have the means and the ability to routinely run 26.2 miles in various cities on the continent. I have friends that love me and, even when a few weeks go by and we haven't connected because our lives are catastrophic whirlwinds? They haven't forgotten me even though I always fear that they will.
I have tons of family that hug and fuss over me. People that read my blog send me music and hand knit socks!?! I even have an ex boyfriend (who still talks to me!) who is happy to take me out and about town on a Saturday night (I have another ex boyfriend that I've attempted to be friendly with but it didn't take, namely because I think the "breast feeding" comments I made might not have been just in my head, but that's okay because they're funny and true).
So.
The restlessness.
Maybe there's an app for that.
Or maybe it's time to challenge myself in other way.

A very accurate depiction of my life.

2011-09-15T22:47:00.001-07:00

Seriously?

2011-09-14T22:50:00.000-07:00

I registered for Boston at 7am today. Still haven't heard back.
WTF.
It's day three of the registration. It's for people that have beat their qualifying times by over ten minutes. Dude: I won the marathon than I'm trying to qualify with.
On the form it asked what my position overall was. I was TWELFTH. Eleven guys crossed and then me.
Come on.

On setting off metal detectors because of the horseshoe situation

2011-09-12T21:37:00.000-07:00

This weekend Michael was in the RBC Granfondo. This is a 120 kilometre ride that starts downtown Vancouver and ends up in Whistler.
I went up on the Friday night as the race is on the Saturday and I didn't want to deal with the clusterfuck that would be people trying to make their way up to Whistler with half of the highway closed on Saturday. I entertained myself quite adeptly on Friday night, as one does, and then made it to the finish line whereupon I promptly missed Michael coming across the finish line. God. Damn. It. I hate missing him but it all works out in the great karmic sense as he missed me winning the Edge to Edge in June.
Even though I didn't see him finish it was very exciting to see all the riders coming across with huge grins on their faces after having biked for four and five hours to get up there. Michael completed it in just over 4.5 hours which is bloody amazing considering it took me two hours to drive there in my car.
He looked and felt great afterwards and didn't even want a nap so we wandered around and - total serendipity - caught Jim Cuddy and Barney Bentall playing an impromptu concert in their biking gear since they had ridden up from Vancouver as well. It was fucking phenomenal. I was maybe 20 feet away from them, front of the stage and they rocked: playing some Blue Rodeo, some Barney Bentall, some Bob Dylan. Oh my god were they good.
Relaxed a bit in the hotel and met some friends for dinner before heading over to see the free 54.40 concert which was also totally awesome. They are so good live. I have one of their albums and I've never been a huge fan, but seeing them live (and again, super close to the stage) was just spectacular. I had a blast.
Went for post concert drinks with our friends, crashed at the hotel. Had a gigantic breakfast the next morning and headed out. Arrived home with just enough time to unpack and do some laundry and meet up with more friends for dinner.
Made myself sleep until noon today. Yet another condo showing (still no bites) and then met a friend for dinner and illuminating conversation.
Clearly I haven't fucked up my life, which is nice.
I'm going to think less and do more.
I'm going to try and register for Boston on Wednesday.
I'm going to Europe in the spring if I have to go by my goddamned self.
The Extra Foods next to me is closed until 2013. Still trying to get over that, but I do think I shall survive.

Reprieves

2011-09-05T23:18:00.000-07:00

True to form, I have been adeptly and stealthily working at ways to destroy my life because... because... I'm not sure. That's the $64,000 question. Ironically, that's what I've spent on therapy year to date.
I'm not stupid.
I'm logical.
But there's this innate sense of restlessness that I can't shake. I should be so exorbitantly happy. I have a four day work week. I'm not a slave to the man. My car turns over every time I start it. I won a marathon once, for chrissakes. I flail around and gesticulate wildly and weep uncontrollably and my partner of 11 years says "yes, I still love you. Yes, we can make it work". Anything I've ever wanted I've gotten.
My mom says I've been like that from the get go. Maybe it's a part of my fibre. Maybe there's an app for that.
I hate whinging blogs that are all self-absorbed and all-encompassing. This is that blog.

Went to Shipbuilders' Square again on Friday night and caught even more great music and bought another album. Went to the Gull after for more live music and an animated discussion about the global economy. It's always lighthearted with me.
Saturday was a ten miler followed by a BBQ at Po's place. God she has a nice place. I'm thinking house swapping might be in order so I can sleep nights sometimes (as I write this house sitting just up the road).
Sunday was a 19 mile run and, given the issues I've been working through (in physio this time), it went freakishly well. Little lie down (and burn) in the sun after. Then sushi and Sunday night cartoons and explosive arguments.
As exercising is more important than talking, the arguments were put on hold to do the BCMC this morning - holy fucking technical, Batman - and then we saw the beautiful grizzly bears at the top of the mountain. Took the tram down. Had dinner in the park. Argued some more.
Essentially arrived at the point we always arrive at: I'm spastic. And blessed, apparently.

I am going to try this on my Specialized tomorrow

2011-09-01T21:23:00.001-07:00

Paolo Nutini

2011-08-30T23:00:00.001-07:00

He's so good.

Portage and Main

2011-08-27T21:55:00.001-07:00

Thank you for taking me back. Let's never fight again. I love you. You look sexy in that dress.

Caught Portage and Main rather randomly at Shipbuilders' Square today: excellent. I went home and bought the album. Great perfomance, super talented group: check 'em out.

Green Couch Session PORTAGE AND MAIN from Green Couch on Vimeo.

I'm done here.

2011-08-07T02:03:00.000-07:00

So much.

2011-08-06T15:20:00.001-07:00

Stupid shit people say

2011-08-02T22:25:00.000-07:00

"Money doesn't buy happiness". Well, if it's not buying you happiness, then give it to me.

"They have nothing there, but they're always so happy". Really? You must not think them that happy, otherwise you would give away all your money to reach their level of supposed nirvana.

I became debt free today. And I can go out and buy the car that I covet. And I can rationalize it by saying that I spend a fair amount of time in rush hour traffic, so why not do it in comfort?

Unfortunately that's not my style. Actually, I have no style to speak of, so... that's happening.

Busy weekend. Dinners, coffees, runs, Bard on the Beach, a bike ride, a late night phone call. Ack.

My therapist gave me the gears on Monday. Intimated that maybe my running was more than "running". Hey, if you pack enough into each day, into each weekend? It leaves you very little time to do the things that you know you ought to do, but are scared to try.

She gives homework, and my homework currently is to write half an hour a day. And to leave the Saboteur out of it. The Saboteur is my nemesis. And for some reason when I think of the Saboteur, I think of Edith Rimmington's "The Oneiroscopist" for no other reason that there is a surrealism exhibit showing at the Vancouver Art Gallery and that is the picture that's been plastered everywhere.

I think I will like the exhibit.

My book is about wine consumption and ennui.

I think there's a huge market for that, don't you, Saboteur?

Yawn

2011-07-28T08:44:00.000-07:00

Last night I dreamed that a contractor had taken my stainless steel fridge and replaced it with an antiquated icebox and a small Picasso. Distressed, I summoned him to a meeting wherein he subtly hit on me and said he admired my taste in music which I thought was odd since most of music isn't visible as it's on my laptop.
I left the meeting, naked and wrapped in the blue blanket that I sling over my leather love seat, eating a gigantic piece of ham.
And of all the wildly interesting dreams I have had, I can actually deconstruct this one:

I am currently reading "The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas" by Gertrude Stein who was a friend of Picasso.

Last night I borrowed Michael's shuffle charger as mine is seemingly broken and I can't stand to run long distances (or any distance, really) without my music.

I realized, last night, that I haven't eaten any meat since Monday and that my diet these days seems to consist of an inordinate amount of quinoa and lentils. I am okay with this.

Ah!

2011-07-26T00:20:00.000-07:00

Blogging is stressful.

No small amount of things have occurred lately.

We went to see my brother for his thirtieth birthday in Abbotsford.

My mom and Michael and I went to see the Vancouver Canadians.

I was attacked, during a 14 miler, by horseflies. I HATE HORSEFLIES.

I've been riding my bike around. And getting lost.

I'm fat.

I need new shoes.

And a bunch of other stuff.

High ideals

2011-07-19T23:31:00.000-07:00

Moderation.

Not something I've ever been supremely adept at.

I'm trying, though.

I ate too much sushi tonight, but then ran 4 miles after. And then watched 1.5 episodes of "Castle". But did my physio exercises and worked the foam roller for at least 20 minutes. But then... and then.

And then?

Horseshoe extravaganza

2011-07-18T00:04:00.000-07:00

Additionally, the dinner tonight went well. I made a butternut squash curry, with quinoa and spinach salad on the side. Everyone had seconds. Michael brought two pies: mixed berry; and cherry. And also some macaroons.

J, sitting next to me on the couch, noticed that I hadn't eaten my macaroon and said she would take it off my hands for me. I said that no, I was just pacing myself and so Michael got her another one. She can be pretty aggressive given she's like 5 inches shorter than me and very soft spoken.

G ran the Knee Knacker last week and J was in charge of all the aid stations for the race. Early on in the evening we all congratulated one another: G for completing the Knee Knacker; J for being the 1st female in her age category and the 2nd female overall for Elk Lake 50 miler; Michael for placing 2nd in his age category at the Edge to Edge Half marathon; and to me for placing first in my age category and first overall female for the Edge to Edge marathon.

We chatted. We ate. We drank. And then it was hugs all around and we said "hope to see you soon" and "feel better" as we have two hamstring issues, an IT band problem and a rotated hip betwixt us. Seriously. After Chicago, Boston and Big Sur? No more marathons.

Oh, and because I knew I'd be kind of tired and hungover tomorrow I emailed my therapist earlier in the week to see if she had anything later than our usual 9:10am appointment and she said no, but then late tonight she said she had a cancellation and so I get to sleep in an extra hour.

And also I scored two free tickets to Bard on the Beach including a salmon barbeque and seating for the fireworks that night because... horseshoe.

Seriously. How cool is that?

My "I'm not doing anything this weekend" weekend

2011-07-17T23:10:00.000-07:00

Mid-week I realized that we had tickets for the Vancouver Folk Festival on Saturday. We were also entertaining another couple for dinner on Sunday night. So much for my "do-nothing" weekend.

Last weekend C and I had a good chat about why we do the things we do, that the races are getting kind of exhausting and he pointed out that his father said that in a way we are creating memories and building images that we can look back on fondly, and I agree with that. Sometimes I get a little overwhelmed with everything on my plate, but when all is said and done I enjoy the things on my plate and I come away from everything - races, volunteering, dinners, coffees, concerts - feeling happier about myself and more connected to the people that I was involved with over that span of time.

Woke up with a mild hangover on Saturday and it was pissing rain. Not a good start to the VFF. We fundamentally wanted to see the Jayhawks who were playing at 10pm that night, but we weren't sure we wanted to do it in the mud and torrential rain. Went for a run and, magically (horseshoe) things started to clear up.

We went to Jericho beach and caught Tim Robbins (like, the Tim Robbins) and his band and it was so cool. I've always loved him as an actor and the movies he's been in: "The Hudsucker Proxy"? "The Player"? So awesome. He seemed to be having a good time and his band sounded great.

I really wanted to catch Rich Terfry who performs as Buck 65. He is also a radio announcer on CBC Radio 2 and I listen to him weekly. He put on an absolutely terrific show: engaging the audience; regaling us with a hilarious story about playing the wrong venue in some tiny town in Sweden ("I could tell I was winning them over...."). He is incredibly talented and has a great sense of humour and he put on a really tight, fun show. Here is one of his videos that first got me hooked:

Caught some of Rosanne Cash's act but I'm not much of a country music fan and, between sets, I could hear a lot of raucous noise coming from Stage 3 behind the main stage and decided to wander over there to see what was going on. Elliott Brood was playing and I'm not very familiar with them but it was very high energy and everyone was dancing and it was pretty contagious. I started to head back to the main stage when they started playing "The Valley Town" and so I headed back because who doesn't want to sing along for the final lyrics?

Headed back to the main stage and noticed there was a bit of room much closer to the stage and so Michael and I relocated ourselves (our BMO marathon heat blankets came in very useful all evening, as they kept us warm and dry) and were very nicely situated to see the Jayhawks whom we both love.

They came on and it was weird, because they've been off the circuit for so long and we didn't really even know what they looked like and they put on an amazing performance. They sounded absolutely phenomenal. They looked great. They seemed to be having a great time, looking out at the riveted audience and the parade of volunteers dangling lanterns to lead us out of the park. We kept moving up, further and further and had an amazing view of the stage and the band and listened to their new music and some of their older stuff and Michael really wanted to hear "Blue" and so, naturally, they played it. It was just absolutely perfect. They hit the high notes, they were seamless, it was excellent.

If you've never heard of the Jayhawks, I highly encourage you to check them out. Jon Stewart was onto them in 1995 (further proof that he is totally awesome and should run for president):

And, because I have a perfect life the skies cleared during the concert and we were trying to find our way out of the park and so we saw the dragon lantern in the distance and so we started bee-lining for it and I said "Would you say that we are... chasing the dragon?" and then we got out of the gates and the moon was emerging from behind a buffer of clouds and we could see the lights and skyline of downtown and the sparkling mountains of North Vancouver and we were both in awe and a little stupefied with the experience and the fortuitous nature of it all.

Never gonna give you up

2011-07-12T22:55:00.000-07:00

The day after my race in Tofino we went to visit Katie and Adam and then stopped off at Long Beach on the way back to our motel (where we kicked back, had some drinks, and in the true fashion of staunch Vancouverites: watched the Canucks suck wind).
He took a lot of photos of me at Long Beach, most of which I didn't realize were even being taken.

This photo is of me stopping to examine something interesting on the sand. I don't remember what it was. Probably a mussel shell or something (and yes, the green jacket and blue bandanna are making a lot of appearances of late. Whatever. And the thing hanging out of my ass is the lanyard deal for my camera which I had stowed in my back pocket: stop judging me).

Okay, but here is why I love Michael: he had me take this pic when we went back a bit later for Katie and Adam's wedding.
And then when he saw the picture he was upset that he was posed facing the wrong way.

He was on his A game that weekend, I tell ya.

He treats me like the petulant five year old I am.

Most of the time

2011-07-11T23:06:00.000-07:00

Whiney baby

2011-07-11T22:46:00.000-07:00

I put away all the clothes that had been hanging on the rack for far too long today. Went for a bike ride, also. I think it might've been my first solo bike ride since I got it. I had fun. And I found a Cliff bar in my riding bag. Sweet.

Went to physio today and then went for massage therapy and, as I was cooking dinner tonight I was thinking how fucking lucky am I that I have Mondays off, that my health care covers a trip to the physiotherapist and the massage therapist, and that the only reason that I ended up there today was because I am in the position to - and have the ability to - run marathons for fun.

Went to see my Nana and Ed on Sunday afternoon. He's 94 and she just suffered a mild heart attack and you start to wonder how many more visits are left. Not that age is a factor, mind. Life can be short.

I spend a lot of time feeling guilty about my lot in life. I don't do anything about it, mind. I volunteer for the occasionally thing here and there. I drive by the blood donation truck on St. Georges and continually think I should go, but never do. I sporadically donate clothing and books to the Salvation Army. I try to be someone that people can count on. That track record is good, but not perfect.

I don't know where this sense of guilt comes from. There are people that have worked significantly less than I have in life and have been given much more and they go through life with an amazing sense of entitlement. And I - for example - worked hard and trained hard and paid a lot of money to get to Boston where I had my (to this day) personal best marathon. And I have never worn the jacket because I think it's obnoxious and showy and I feel somewhat unjustifiably privileged to have been able to go there in the first place.

Fundamentally? I think I should rock out with my cock out more often. Otherwise I should just relinquish my lifestyle to someone that would live it better.

Friends are friendly

2011-07-09T23:46:00.000-07:00

There's a lot going on in my life right now, as evidenced by the clothes that have been hung to dry for days now, and my dishwasher that needs to be unloaded and my fridge that is resplendent with candied salmon, cottage cheese and individual juice boxes. I'm just riding it out. I said that I would do nothing next weekend and I've already got a dinner and a coffee lined up.

I'm not complaining. My friends are awesome and they seem to want to continue to see me. God knows why.

Today we get up around 9am and head over to Lynn Valley Park to check in for our marshalling duties for the Knee Knacker. This is a totally crazy 50k trail run that goes from Horseshoe Bay to Deep Cove and I knew a lot of people that were running it, but was mainly interested to see C who I missed during my 90 second pee break today. Awesome.

After 2.5 hours of directing traffic, giving parking advice and explaining over and over again what the race entailed to random people I got home and C came over after running a blistering 6:37 race. I couldn't believe it. I said he was welcome to nap before the banquet but no. He was moving fine and in good spirits and I just can't understand how one can get up at 3:30am in the morning and run the trails for 6.5 hours and move fluidly and talk cohesively. I was very impressed.

We went to the banquet. I didn't go the last time we volunteered (volunteers get a free ticket), but this time I felt that I had developed relationships with people enough that I could go and not feel alone. And it was great. I talked to so many runners from my clinic who had done the run and got the lowdown from them and I loved the sense of community.

From start to finish it was a such a positive experience. The weather was excellent. I was so excited to see so many people I knew at kilometre 35 of such an arduous race. Everyone was in good spirits at the dinner. The first female finisher of this particular race was at our table and was totally nonchalant about winning it. I love random stuff like that.

How these people got up at 3:30 this morning to start their 50k race at 6am and showed up with smiles and good spirits for the dinner tonight just amazes me.

Congrats to everyone that participated today, especially C who totally downplayed a very impressive time.

I was a bitch. I admit it.

2011-07-07T22:40:00.000-07:00

Been a while. Check. Check. This thing still on?
Michael and I returned to Tofino for his niece's wedding. I guess she's my niece too. We returned for our niece's wedding. Katie. Oh my god. She was always my favourite niece. Can I say that? Is it wrong to say that? And Adam? I had my doubts but I liked him the day I met him: hardworking; funny; open; honest.
So we go back to the Island and maybe the living arrangements weren't the best where we were staying. I mean, brilliant backdrop - right on Chesterman Beach - and beautiful house, but we were sharing it with some of Adam's friends from Australia who, granted, wanted to party. Until 3:30 in the morning. In the living room. Adjacent to our room. Fun times!
I was a huge loser growing up? Strike that: I am still a loser? And I think I've been to like, one or two house parties in my life? But this was full on, all weekend. Everyone in Tofino under the age of 35 was partying at our place Friday, Saturday and Sunday night.
Um, it may be surprising, but I'm socially stunted, like my "alone time" and am easily overwhelmed. I didn't realize that this was going to be the set up. So I would sneak away a lot and just sit in my room. And drink wine. Alone. Please don't tell my therapist.
Anyways. During the weekend I was overwhelmed, had PMS and was sleep deprived. I was not the best company. I mean, I'm never the best company, but fundamentally I thought Michael was going to leave me when we returned but he didn't so... that's interesting.
The wedding was cold and wet but beautiful. Sometimes you can tell when people are just absolutely enamoured with others and Adam is absolutely enamoured with Katie. Just stricken with love.
It was great to see so many people from Michael's family that I haven't seen in ages. He has a beautiful, happy, well adjusted family. Not sure how I rocked into it.
Oh, oh: best story? One of the bridesmaids (I wasn't around at this point) asked Michael how old he was. He didn't want to say so one of his relatives asked her to guess. She guessed he was 31. He's 45. She told him he had beautiful skin. She was very beautiful and pleasant and funny and was smokin' hot in her bridesmaid dress.
I guess Michael is with me for the witty banter?
By the end of the weekend I as a bit of an automaton. Slept in my car on the ferry ride home. Michael's sister and mom came back with us and slept at his place and he crashed with me. This is my first night alone since last Thursday night.
I didn't handle it well. It was no one's fault. Everyone was happy and putting on a smiling face and I just can't fake it (or maybe they were actually genuinely happy: perish the thought!). I'm a cranky, cantankerous bitch that likes to be alone. Hi Dad!
I guess after 11 years they've accepted that, but I am remorseful that I wasn't more easy going and that I didn't try harder. I know that when you try hard to be happy Karma works in your favour. Happiness begets happiness.
I was glad that Katie and Adam had us, though. What a beautiful couple and what stunning surroundings. I hope marriage and their impending baby makes them supremely happy. They have the right attitude.
In news not related to Tofino or weddings: some family emergencies. Some family drama. Michael snores a lot. My physio is giving me the green light for Chicago.
Why do I get so uptight in situations that I can't control?
Oh my god! I just saved an assload of money! I get anxious and cranky in situations that I can't control.
And my therapist would say: "Why do you feel the need to control the situation? What happens if you let go of the reigns?".
And my massage therapist would say: "What is going on in here?"

Older

2011-06-28T23:18:00.000-07:00

My "little" (like, six foot) brother turned 30 today. Happy birthday, Bro!
Seems like just yesterday I was kicking over the Matchbox cars in the parades that he would make through our living room or playroom. I was such a mean sister.
And then, when I struck out on my own and failed and returned home, he and I went out a few times. We went to a movie once. Another time we went to the races in Port Kells and had to book it when the cops came to shut it down. Once we drove up to Lasqueti together to go visit my dad. We were in his El Camino which had some kind of suspension issues and every time we turned a corner he would mutter "bind, bind, bind". It was funny.
I admire my brother. He was never really a shit heel, growing up. Always very even-keeled. Very level minded and calm. I was none of those things. He's rational and thoughtful and his priorities are adeptly ranked.
Welcome to your thirties, Jason.
Oh hey: remember the time you pushed me into the (unheated) pool in October when I was fully clothed?
Yeah.
Watch out.

Oh, the "ists" that take up my Mondays

2011-06-27T22:00:00.001-07:00

Go go Gadget hip!

On loving my life

2011-06-26T00:07:00.000-07:00

As mentioned previously I am not running in tomorrow's race. I'm supremely bummed about it on many levels.
On the upside, I'm super excited to be hanging out with Big D at the finish line, waiting for all our friends and relatives to finish. I never "don't" run and so being a spectactor will be pretty exciting/frustrating.
A huge shout out to Super Mommy, who will also be racing tomorrow: you go girl. You rock. You are hardcore. A super smart intellectual, a triathlete, a teacher and a friend from grade school, no less.
Another high five for C, who is currently embroiled in the Full Moon in June adventure race. I have been checking the updates on FB currently to see where his team is. He takes "racing" to a whole. Nother. Level. Cannot wait for the post race report.
So. Good luck to everyone who is attempting to accomplish anything this weekend.
You guys rock.

And then?

2011-06-25T02:13:00.000-07:00

Watched "Megamind" tonight. Meh. The main character sounded so much like Ron Burgundy. I wanted more. Tina Fey, for chrissakes!
Injured, it would seem. Dropped out of Sunday's half marathon which is only the BEST HALF MARATHON EVER. I love the Scotiabank half. It's such a beautiful (net downhill!!) run.
Massage therapy tonight and the RMT couldn't get my hips aligned. I have an appointment with my physio on Monday to hopefully get this fixed ASAP.
Depression. Man, it's funny: I bitch and moan about how much running cuts into my social life and then when I can't run? I just want to crawl into bed and die.
Anyways. Life is in a holding pattern until I figure out what the fuck is wrong with my hips. I have one anterior and one posterior rotated hip. My RMT said "it's like a corkscrew". Great.
Hey, I've got an alternate way of opening wine now.
Silver lining?

It's good

2011-06-20T23:04:00.000-07:00

Everything is good.
I am, most definitely and without exception, the luckiest person I know.
It's ridiculous.
I have made very many valiant attempts to derail my life and I'm still here.
Let's go with that.

On sleeping in my own bed

2011-06-19T22:08:00.000-07:00

I go through spates of time when I feel I shouldn't have bought a place. I'm never here. But when I am here, I do want to be alone.
I'm in a weird mood. This post will be all over the place. Such has been life lately.
Where did we leave off?
Came back from the Island. Ran the aforementioned six miles too soon. Had to drop in to see my doctor for something that could have been something which would have supremely fucked up my life but it turned out to be nothing and so we went and checked out "Midnight in Paris" and had a beer afterwards.
I panic when I think about what will happen when Woody Allen is gone. I watch his movies and I think "why write anything? Why even try?". The Black Keys. Mark Zuckerburg. Am I supposed to compete with these people? Frank Lloyd Wright. Alphonse Mucha. I suppose I'm not supposed to actually compete with them, but I'm supposed to be cool being me because we're all winners and on sports day we all get participation ribbons, but fundamentally the reason that I'm in therapy (dig this: my therapist calls me tonight to bump my meeting from 9:10 to 8:40 and I think "who the fuck is in therapy at 8:40 in the morning?". I'm not even fully conscious until at least 10am) is because I'm bored but too lazy and afraid to actually do something about it.
Let's see. The most avant garde thing that I've done in the past week is not torch a cop car and close down my Facebook account. WINNING.
I lie. I did refuse to eat the shark fin soup at last night's wedding. I was like "is this really actual shark fin soup?" and they were like, yes, and I was like "that's just totally not cool" and I put it back on the lazy Susan and so did a couple of other people and then someone said we had the beginnings of a PETA chapter on our hands at that particular table.
Weddings. Whole other tangent there. Hats off to you should you pursue this particular endeavour. My life, in fact, would probably be less complicated if I subscribed to the ideals of marriage, but then I'd have nothing to blog about.
And I'd have to kill this blog in addition to my Facebook account.
What fun would that be?

It was too soon for six miles today

2011-06-16T21:59:00.000-07:00

After the race we didn't do much. Took it easy. Michael announced to everyone we met that I had won and kept randomly grabbing my hand and raising it up as though I was a boxer in the ring. I eventually told him, politely, that besides he and I? Likely no one really cared and so we should just keep it on the down low.
The following day we drove to Tofino to visit Michael's niece and her fiance. Ironically we will be going back over there in a few weeks for their wedding. It was wonderful to finally meet Adam and to catch up with Katie, having not seen her for months? Years? They showed us around Tofino and took us for lunch at a swank restaurant. Michael was fully planning on paying the bill but they usurped us rather stealthily. We'll get them back...
Returned home on Tuesday. So much driving. Fell asleep in the car on the car deck.
Watched the Canucks lose on Wednesday night and then stayed up until midnight watching the ensuing riots. It's times like this when I fucking hate Vancouver. And then it's times like this when a Facebook group gets together to organize thousands of volunteers to clean up the city that I love Vancouver.
It was very disturbing watching the black, smokey plume of smoke snake up from the downtown core as cars were overturned and set on fire.
Today we ran six miles. I was only supposed to run three. I really only should have run three. Ouch.

My internal pace clock

2011-06-14T22:53:00.000-07:00

A bit of an aside: I have a rather amazing internal pace clock. I run a very certain speed very consistently. I don't have a GPS and Michael does and on numerous occasions we have been out running and I have looked at my watch and said "so we should be at five miles?" and lo, we are. Michael has admitted that it's a bit freakish.
Anyways, at one of the last aid stations the kilometre sign they had put me around 36 kilometres. That meant I had 6k to go which I figured would take me another half hour. My watch said 3:15 so I was looking at a 3:45 marathon time which would make it one of the slowest marathons I'd ever run, and would also make it questionable as to whether I would even make the Boston marathon cutoff.
I was a bit disappointed because I'd trained really hard for this particular marathon. I just thought that maybe I wasn't tackling the hills with the aplomb necessary to obtain a better time and yet I really did feel that I was pushing it.
Regardless. I powered through it to the best of my ability. Eventually Leon passed me - and with an amazing surge of speed - and it spurred me on a bit as we headed into Ucluelet.
I ran past the motel we were staying at and I sort of thought Michael might be there but he wasn't, so I figured he was at the finish.
I still wasn't entirely sure how the course wound up as we headed away from the finish line, and then we were turning back towards the finish and I could see the church for sale in the distance and I knew that was very close to the end and then all of a sudden it was the end and they were announcing my name and I was crossing the line and I looked at my watch and it was 3:33 which was 12 minutes faster than what I thought I would be and which also was my second fastest run - a couple of minutes faster than the Okanagan marathon which was dead flat and Michael was nowhere to be seen and it was because I was way faster than either of had supposed.
I saw Leon shortly after crossing and congratulated him on a truly excellent first marathon and he gave me a hug and he said that yes, he had been following me for the vast majority of the marathon which was funny to hear. We chatted for a while and then I wandered away to find Michael and bumped into Barb who was so excited to see me at the finish and admonished me to go get a bagel with peanut butter on it and she congratulated me several times.
For a marathon where I didn't "know" anyone, it was neat to see the same people at the finish as I had at the start. A couple of women congratulated me on my run and I asked if they were the ladies that I had seen on bikes on the course but no, they had been shuffling relay runners around and had taken notice of me during the race and said I had looked very good and strong and I was really surprised and stunned that anyone had noticed me at any point doing anything, really.
Eventually I found Michael who was both very happy to see me but sad that he had missed me crossing the finish. I showed him my time and we were both tapping my watch and shaking it and shaking our heads, incredulous. How. How indeed?
After we finished laughing and re-capping (he finished first in his age/sex category for the half marathon - even after getting lost briefly) a guy grabbed me and said "you know, I think you won" and I said no, that wasn't possible. He said there had been some confusion as some of the marathoners that had started very early in the morning had crossed the finish line before me, but that I should check the standings.
I checked the standings.
I won my age/sex group.
I won first female overall.
I checked the standings like four more times.
I got on the podium twice a few hours later to accept a two different awards.
The third female overall was Heather, who I had randomly met a few hours earlier through Barb. I turned to her and she recognized me and we both had a little laugh as we accepted our beautiful bouquets of flowers and had our pictures taken.
Yeah. So, yeah. How weird is that?

Pssst.... the eagle lands at midnight

2011-06-14T22:24:00.000-07:00

The horn goes off and away we go, heading for Ucluelet which is 26.2 miles away. Edge to Edge 2011: yay!
Again, I wasn't nervous. It was a nice day for a run and I had some great music and the scenery was nice and everyone was in a good mood and I had no expectations.
After about ten minutes I noticed that I hadn't come across any mile or kilometre markers. Normally the first mile is marked and then subsequent miles or kilometres. Nada. Nothing after fifteen minutes. Nothing after thirty minutes. Yeah.
So I had no idea what my pace was and I thought I was running pretty hard. I have a tendency to go out hard and then fade and I was wondering if that's what I was doing, but there was no way to tell.
Eventually I came across an aid station and it indicated it was at about 9.3 kilometres, but my watch said 55 minutes which meant I really ought to have been around 11 kilometres. I figured that perhaps the course was hillier than I had been aware of and it was taking a bigger toll on my body than anticipated. But being five minutes too slow on the first 10k? Seemed strange to me.
Then I shrugged my shoulders and felt I was doing the best I could do and resolved it would be a slow marathon. Whatever.
Ran on. Did some back and forths with some people. Enjoyed my music. Liked running on the bike path. Realized that I was competing with people that were running relay portions which was dangerous because you run 10k a hell of a lot faster than you run 42.2k and so I tried not to keep pace with the relayers, though it was hard to tell who was who.
The aid stations were fun because they were, sometimes, also relay stations and so all these people would be there, waiting to get tagged and there would also be spectators and volunteers and they would all cheer loudly and it was kind of overwhelming since it was a very sparse and interspersed marathon.
An official looking guy gave me some kind words of encouragement at one of the first aid stations. People shuttling the relay people around were driving by in cars and buses and screaming out the window and I was smiling and waving at everyone.
Picked off a couple of women in front of me. A woman in the age category above me fairly blew by me and I pegged her for the first or second female overall. The gap between she and I was widening and I knew I couldn't catch her but thought I might still have a chance to place in my own age/sex category.
Came into an other aid station and that same official looking guy said that I was going well and was picking up time. I thought it odd that he would know that, but then I had noticed a couple of volunteers noting my number as I ran by them.
More smiles and waves for everyone.
Passed a guy with a Transformers tattoo on his calf. He didn't like that and passed me back going up a hill. I didn't like that and so I passed him back and didn't see him again.
At one of the aid stations a woman said "You're doing really well, T-" and I thought "how does she know my name?" and I assumed my name must be on my bib. I was running hard, but I was feeling surprisingly strong. I actually didn't mind the undulating hills.
There were still no kilometre markers so I just resolved to run hard but not overdo it. After 2.5 hours I expected to hit the wall and then I started thinking I was hitting it and then I did a quick self check and asked "am I really hitting it, or am I just expecting to hit it?". And I was feeling fine and so I said to myself I says "you're feeling fine: the wall is in your head. Suck it up" and so I did.
I knew, also, the Leon was behind me somewhere because I could hear him asking for Gatorade in his British accent behind me from time to time and I thought he was doing really well for his first marathon which was totally challenging.
Started plowing through the dreaded final 8k of the race. I was tired and my body was tired and the hills were just endless onslaughts and I even walked one of them because I just couldn't get up it.
Went through another aid station and another volunteer said to me "you should be really proud of your time" and I took the water from her and said thanks and thought man, people sure are really encouraging on this course. Downed the water (and more Gatorade) and started struggling up another hill and noted that my feet were starting to cramp and prayed to the gods that I would get to the finish line before I had another repeat of my death in the desert that was the Las Vegas marathon.

Bonding on the schoolbus

2011-06-14T21:56:00.000-07:00

I had, momentarily, toyed with the idea of placing in the Edge to Edge marathon. The time I had in the Okanagan in October would've made me the first female overall if I had run the same time at the E2E last year.
Driving in to Ucluelet I let all notions of placing go. The final 8 leg was exorbitantly hilly, and I run and train in a very hilly place. Michael and I were both astounded and amazed by the totally challenging terrain which would be coming at kilometre 34 when one is never feeling particularly good.
I said to Michael that I had only chosen this marathon for the scenery and for the opportunity to run on the beach and that I would not compete and that I would likely just leave my watch in the room so I didn't have to worry about time.
It was that bad.
And then I felt good: the pressure was off. It was just going to be a long run through some pretty areas and it would be one thing to check off my bucket list.
I caught the school bus to Tofino on race day and met some really cool people. One guy -Leon - had come up from Salem, Oregon to run his first marathon but forgot his bib which had the chip on it. Thankfully he noticed it early and jumped off the bus to go back to his room and retrieve it.
I also met Barb, a really friendly and engaging woman from Victoria who was running the first leg of the relay and who made me show her what shirt I was wearing so she could pick me out on the course and cheer for me as the bus drove past. At the start of the race Barb introduced me to a friend of her's named Heather who, like me, was aiming for a fun run and a decent pace.
I also met up with a coworker who was running it (she has numerous marathons and an Ironman under her belt) along with the four women that she had trained who were running their inaugural marathon also. They had shirts made up that said "Four Virgins and a Pro" which was much talked about at the event.
I caught up with Leon in line for the bathroom and he had his bib: yay! We had a great chat and he was a super personable guy and, even though I was running this event "alone" I was already feeling a very positive vibe.
Very small turnout: 126 to be exact.
In the prior 7 marathons I've run there is always some degree of jostling to get a good position and so I moved near the front of the line as we were getting ready to go.
No one went in front of me.
I knew there were people much faster than me and the etiquette is that they were supposed to be in front of me, but no one one wanted to be "in front". I actually tried to back up, but there was nowhere to back up to. There were some photographers there snapping pics and man do I wish I could see them because it would be me, front and centre - mildly horrified - with 125 people standing behind me. It was hilarious. And I was still about 7 feet away from the actual start line!

Art is subjective

2011-06-14T21:51:00.000-07:00

Michael called this statue "Ravenbush".

You can buy anything in Ucluelet

2011-06-14T21:37:00.000-07:00

Get to Ucluelet and check in to our motel. Drop our bags at go to the package pick up at the local community centre which was brand new and very swank.
Oddly, we noticed an amazing amount of houses for sale. I don't think I've ever seen such a high percentage of property for sale in my life: it was very strange.
Went for a light run to stretch out our legs, had a shower and then went for one of the best meals ever at the Driftwood. If you are ever in Ucluelet and want a great meal: try the Cajun halibut wrap. It was so good that half of it was gone before I was even fully cognisant that I had eaten it. Normally Michael and I will eat half of our meal and then switch so we can each try the other's meal. No way I was sharing this. I think I polished the whole thing off in about seven minutes. Goddamn it was good. And I drank a beer. And that too was good. And I kept on thinking: I have to run a race tomorrow and I'm not that nervous. What's that about?
We left the restaurant and wandered about a bit and came across the "finish line" resplendent with the massive bleachers that reminded me of Boston. I envisioned the tens of thousands of spectators that would be five and six deep, screaming for us as we crossed the finish line. Still no jitters.
We continued our walk up Main Street and came across a rather picturesque church. I thought the landscaping was beautiful. Turns out it too was for sale. I think it was rather reasonably priced in the 200-300k range.
Yeah. So I opted not to buy the house of god, and we instead crossed the street because we saw a Luongo jersey in the thrift store.
$100? Slaps knee. Did you watch last night's game??

It's not a race course.

2011-06-14T21:16:00.000-07:00

Right. So in the prior post I mentioned how we dawdled a little while getting our coffee and ended up having to run back to the car since the ferry was loading and we were actually impeding traffic. That was awesome.
We finagled our way out of Nanaimo and headed for Port Alberni, planning to have lunch there. Port Alberni is a weird place. They have a pulp mill right on the river there and the whole place smells like... well, a pulp mill. It's a bit of a sad/rough and tumble kind of place with a crappy boardwalk and a lack of funding.
We had lunch at Pescadores there. I had the quinoa salad which was excellent. On the menu they put in brackets "pronounced keen-wa", just in case there was any doubt. I was the only person that ordered the keen-wa salad. Michael had some sandwich that involved bacon and cheese and I silently cursed him for not having to run a full marathon the next day like I was scheduled to do.
Back in the car. Heading to Ucluelet on a very winding highway and some rice rockets blow by us. The last one to pass me wasn't a crotch rocket, but an older Moto Guzzi that was struggling to keep up with the Japanese bikes. I noticed as they were going around a corner that the Moto Guzzi seemed to be leaning into the turns harder than the other bikes and I had a bad feeling about the road and the speed of the drivers.
Probably five minutes later we came across the Moto Guzzi driver on the side of the road near his bike. A couple of elderly women were trying to help him and so we pulled over and jumped out. No cell reception. The guy didn't seem to be critically injured but he was in shock. More people were pulling over to help so I flagged a car down and told him to call for help when he could get reception and then we got back into the car and drove down the highway trying to find a house to pull in to to use their phone.
Naturally no such thing existed and we ended up at a zip line place with a satellite phone and ten very frustrating minutes later we were able to arrange for help. It was a good thing this guy wasn't bleeding profusely from the head because it took a terrifyingly long time for the ambulance service to figure out where we were. I've never had to give telephone pole numbers as a point of reference before.
Back into the car. Some emergency vehicles eventually went screaming past us en route to the accident scene which made us feel a lot better.
Yeah. That whole auspicious start thing I was talking about.

Off to an auspicious start

2011-06-11T20:10:00.000-07:00

Remind me to tell you about the time that we had to run back to our car, sloshing lattes and spilling coffee everywhere because our ferry was loading and, um, I could practically hear my dad laughing.
Then we were the second on the scene of a motorcyclist that had wiped out and needed medical attention but no one could get cell reception so we jumped back in the car and started driving down the #4 looking for a place to pull in to use their phone and we found a zip line place and had to call using a satellite phone and the guy working at the zip line place didn't know what his address was and so I had to tell the ambulance service what telephone pole number we were near.
Yes.
That all happened today.

#8

2011-06-11T07:06:00.001-07:00

Happy Birthday, Po.

2011-06-05T01:05:00.000-07:00

Today was awesome. I cannot lie. Today was actually as close to perfection as it gets, really.
Waking up with Michael.
A four mile run becoming a 6.5 mile run because I just didn't want to stop and the flowers were in bloom and I saw an osprey and the Lions were magnificent and the sun was so warm and wonderful.
Going to Po's for her birthday with the food and wine and guitar and conversation.
Me: "So, um, has anyone read "The Elegance of the Hedgehog"?"
Everyone: general, excited clamour.
The only downside is that I feel that I love and am surrounded by all these amazing and accomplished people and I feel I have very little to offer.
Here's a funny story. I was so happy this afternoon. I mean, really, really happy and content. I mean, why run an extra mile and a half when you don't have to? And I was loving the flowers and the smells and the people and the sights and life in general and I thought "I'm too happy, this is just too much. God is going to strike me down right now" and I thought of how happy and expectant Renee had been in the "Elegance of the Hedgehog" and then I thought that surely I would be hit by a dry cleaning van and within seconds of me thinking that I was almost run over by a distracted Honda driver.
But I wasn't run over. That made the day even better.

The vow of silence

2011-06-04T01:05:00.000-07:00

I did rather want to blog yesterday, but the blog was fundamentally about an amazingly socially retarded individual in my book club, and so it was less of a post and more of a rant and I didn't want to be negative, and I think it's negative when you see an individual and think "I don't hate many people, but I thoroughly loathe your existence".
On a positive note, I did have an amazing moment of connection with another individual today at work. I do live for those moments.
They've been (through every fault of my own) relatively few and far between as of late, and I am trying to be more open to them.

Ohm

2011-05-26T09:48:00.000-07:00

I'm going to take a break from this for a while.

I think my energy can be focused more positively elsewhere.

It's rather pedestrian, this blog, and also shallow. I do so grow weary of the pedestrian and the shallow.

Pinnacle

2011-05-23T22:09:00.000-07:00

So this weekend was the third and final weekend of running 10 miles on Saturday and 20 miles on Sunday.
I can't express how eager I was to get this weekend over and done and to begin my taper.
I ran my 10 miles on Saturday at race pace like Hal Higdon said and I felt good. I had taken the Friday off and eaten a cheeseburger with bacon and then had strawberry shortcake for dessert because those two items are scientifically proven to make you run faster. Then I sat on my ass and watched "Scott Pilgrim versus the World" (awesome) and "Raising Arizona" (meh) and drank no small amount of Gatorade before going to bed.
Sunday I had decided to run in Kits, doing about 7 miles on my own and picking up Michael for the remaining 13. I was feeling good when I met my mom and Michael for an impromptu aid station at my father's bench on the water. Off we went and I was feeling good 12 miles in, and 15 miles in and at 16 miles I said "If I'm still feeling this good in half an hour I will be amazed".
Finished strong, with some fuel in the tank and a couple of minutes under the three hours I had allotted myself. I am so pleased that the final push weekend was such a good one for me. I was also happy that my mom and Michael could be a part of it and helped me out so much. 20 milers can be goddamned long and lonely.
It was a pinnacle in other ways as well.
For example: for years I have kept secret the fact that my housekeeper had borne my illegitimate son, and I realize the hurt that has been imposed upon those I love.
Furthermore, I seek attention and validation from people that don't know me intimately, nor care, ultimately, about my well being. Ex-fat girl says what?
Additionally, I realize I spend a lot of time in a state of anxiety about the future. This is, obviously, pointless and a massive waste of time. Certainly you can control the future to some extent, but ultimately you cannot gauge what the next hour will bring and so be here, Now.
Case in point: I showed up for today's massage appointment with Carradine at 5:30. Well, apparently it's Caradean and that's a guy's name. Who knew?
Here and Now, baby.
Now.
Now.
Now.

Coming down

2011-05-19T22:28:00.000-07:00

I'd love a joint but I'm out of rolling papers. And the melatonin hasn't kicked in yet.
So yeah, "Requiem for a Dream". I probably should've read some of the reviews on Rotten Tomatoes before I clicked play on this particular baby. I do try and monitor the things that I allow to seep into (and, subsequently, fester in) my tiny pea head. This one slipped past the censors.
Excellent movie if you're prepared for it.
Otherwise, well, you're sitting in the dim glow of your laptop and your shoulders are up around your ears because you're totally stressed out and agitated.
Did my fridge just jump towards me?

Lettuce, turnip and pea

2011-05-17T23:08:00.000-07:00

Happy birthday, Dad.
Remember the time my bank account was frozen and I couldn't get any cash and I walked over to your place and I was all upset at 19 years old and you went up to your bedroom and came back down with about $1,000 without asking any questions?
One time I stole a bunch of change from your night table but then I returned it all in short order because I was wracked with guilt.
How about the time we went for that kayak ride when the phosphorous was heavy in the ocean so that each dip of the paddle lit up the water and our footprints were illuminated when we walked up the beach.
We all miss you.
Your house on McNicholl street is up for sale.
Remember our real estate conversations? Making the numbers work?
They don't work right now.

On human nature and quotes I like

2011-05-14T19:56:00.000-07:00

I just read this from Muriel Barbery's "The Elegance of the Hedgehog" and it really resonated.

So here is my profound thought for the day: this is the first time I have met
someone who seeks out people and who sees beyond. that may seem trivial but I
think it is profound all the same. We never look beyond our assumptions and,
what's worse, we have given up trying to meet others, we just meet ourselves. We
don't recognize each other because other people have become our permanent
mirrors. If we actually realized this, if we were to become aware of the fact
that we are only ever looking at ourselves in the other person, that we are
alone in the wilderness, we would go crazy.

I think it's up there with my other favorite quote, from Dostoevsky's "Crime and Punishment":

"What I want to say is this: - If you logically try to persuade a person that there is no absolute reason for shedding tears, the person in question will cease weeping. That's self evident. Why, I should like to know, should such a person continue doing so?"

"If such were the usual course of things, life would be a very easy matter," replied Raskolnikoff.

Doot.

2011-05-11T08:45:00.000-07:00

I don't want to blog anymore.

Thirty miles

2011-05-09T22:29:00.000-07:00

Friday night we went out with some friends. I drank too much. That NEVER happens. Apparently I was a bit belligerent. That NEVER happens. I do recall having to concentrate quite hard at staying on the sidewalk to get back to Michael's place. Good times.
Ran ten miles the next day at race pace. With a cold. And a hangover. I was right pleased with myself. Went back to Michael's to watch the Canucks play, got into an argument and went back to my place. Good thing we don't live 30 kilometres apart like we used to.
Even though we had no small disagreement the night before, Michael was still there to help me through Sunday's twenty mile run. He ran with me for about eight miles, even though he had run a blistering marathon the week before. He brought extra gels for me, and even a mini Toblerone which I had when I was at mile 17 with dead legs and a seemingly insurmountable hill to tackle.
At one point of the run he took a detour so he didn't have to run an extra four miles and as I went straight and he banked right he kissed me and said "think of me waiting for you, sweetie. Come back to me".
Yeah.
Sunday afternoon we went to my mom's and met up with Jay and A and then we went on to dinner at UBC with the extended family. It was fun to catch up at the "children's table" with my brother and his partner. I have a great family. I'm a very lucky person to have been able to visit with my mom and grandmother who was wearing this super smart suit and I was like, "Whoa, are you here to interview me?".
God.
I hope I got the job.

What is Donald Trump?

2011-05-04T22:21:00.000-07:00

Why does a man who faced professional and personal bankruptcy have a show called "The Apprentice"? I want to get my business acumen from an aged man who refuses to admit that he is bald, has no aesthetic taste, and almost couldn't service his personal and professional debt! What, did he graduate from the University of Phoenix or something?
Kudos for Obama for being such a good humoured sport and eloquent speaker. I would've had The Donald "accidentally" choke on a hairball of his own making.

On personal bests

2011-05-02T22:40:00.000-07:00

The key is to only beat your prior personal best by a nominal margin so as to be easier to achieve yet another personal best in the future.
I am the laziest runner I know.
Gong show weekend, extending into today, even.
Got my income tax refund back and they didn't adjust it so maybe I got it right this year. Yay post secondary education and accountancy! In all truth I think I had two scotches and just blundered through the goddamn thing.
Had fun at the post race party last night. Drank too much and was in bed before ten (disclaimer: I was up at 5am).
Apparently I glommed on to Michael to the extent that he had to get out of bed to escape my sweaty clutches and to crawl back into the other side of the bed. It explains the confusion when I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Which I do most mornings, actually. Ha ha! Thanks: I'm here all week. I'm here all weak.
Making some progress with my therapist. Wow. How fucking yuppie does that sound?
This is some info on one of the guys that runs in my clinic that I have gotten to know over the past few years. He's one of the most optimistic, positive people that I've met in my entire life.
Yeah. So all that happened.

Prospect Point was fun

2011-05-01T15:10:00.000-07:00

Finally broke 1:40 with 1:39:36. PB by a whopping 7 seconds. I can't wait to actually try a flat course one of these days.
Big news of the day was Michael shaving 6 minutes off his personal best to come in just over 3:08 for the full marathon. Unfreakingbelievable.
Banner day. A coworker ran her first half marathon and we were there to see her. A friend was injured and had anticipated just running the half today but felt good, ran the full, and beat her PB by five minutes. Big D broke 2 hours for the first time.
I dunno what they put in the water today, but I like it.

The birds are just getting up

2011-05-01T05:15:00.000-07:00

The Ester C didn't work, nor did that Cold FX Immune stuff that came in my race package. I get to run today's half marathon with a hacking cough and a runny nose.
The plus side is that they're nary a cloud in the sky compared to last year (when I still didn't break 1:40). That's good because it was freezing last year and my checked bag got wet so all the dry clothes I was supposed to change in to were damp and I thought I might die of hypothermia. Also on the plus side is that G is going to meet me at the end and I'm going to go back to her place to change quickly before heading back to the finish line to watch other people come in.
I don't imagine cracking my PB today on account of being sick, but at least I won't let the excuse of not being close enough to the start line be a factor today.
I am so napping after this.

On why I live alone and drink and run more than I should

2011-04-25T22:35:00.000-07:00

So, long story short, there's a questionnaire based on Sterberg's triangular theory of love. I don't advocate doing it, asking your partner to do it, and then comparing notes.
Fucking disaster says what?
In other news: I ate too much chocolate.

Today was sunny

2011-04-22T21:24:00.000-07:00

Let's see... for a three day work week it seemed very long. I ran a lot. The Canucks lost, again. It made me laugh. Everyone hates that I'm cheering for Chicago.
House (or, rather, cat) sitting for L and L this weekend. Michael left this morning to go for a bike ride and I went back to bed because I'm a lazy jerk and, after a while, Bean came in. She jumped up on the bed and walked over and put one paw on my stomach, and then two paws on my stomach and I just lay there quietly and she climbed up, made herself comfortable and lay on me. It was the funniest thing. I looked at her, rising and falling with my breath.
We then went to Whytecliff Park for something different. We climbed up this steep rock onto this quasi island there and, naturally, I couldn't come down it. My mom has the same issue. It's like when we look at descending slopes we see something different than everyone else. Seriously. I was standing back and letting other people pass me and go down it and I would watch it and I would say to myself "okay, I'm in better shape than they are, I am wearing better shoes than they are, I can totally do this" and then I would try, and I was struck down with terror.
Michael was by now at the bottom, laughing and taking pictures of me rendered totally immobile from sheer, irrational fear and I was screaming "stop it! Michael: stop!" and surely everyone on the shoreline was like "what a headcase".
Anyways, I was truly starting to panic and Michael came back up and took me by the hand and led me back down along the steep (in my mind, at least) ledge with me hysterically insisting "you're going too fast!" every twenty seconds. Normally he just points and laughs at me in situations like this, but he was very kind today and I really don't know how I would have made it down without him (I lie: I would've scooted down on my bum, like an invalid).
Then we went to Park Royal, had a conversation about how we're not consumers, and then I bought two dresses, two pairs of shoes, a pair of shorts and some capris. Hypocrite says what?
It was a fun, random day.
It's days like this where I love Michael so much it's ridiculous.

Go Blackhawks.

2011-04-18T22:44:00.000-07:00

I remember lusting over Patrick Sharp last year. His looks haven't diminished.
I explained to C that I am cheering for the Blackhawks so that the Canucks can be eliminated from the playoffs so that people in BC can focus more on the impending election (our last election had the lowest voter turnout ever).
C thinks we're going to end up with a minority government again this time around, and that at least the Canucks advancing in the playoffs will bring the plebians and proletariats joy in their otherwise miserable lives.
I think that if Luke Wilson and Eric Bana had a baby, it would look like Patrick Sharp.
In other news, my therapist used her iPhone to show me one of Sternberg's theories today and I was holding it in my palm, scrolling through it and thinking "this is a strange way to share information". I'm a Luddite. I also overheard a client at my hairdresser's the other day discussing that she preferred to be contacted via text.
I dumped all my loose change into a magical machine at BMO today and it gave me a ticket saying there was $185.45 in coin and so I took it to the teller and said "I'm a winner!" and she laughed because I'm sure she has never heard that, ever, before.
This post is totally disjointed.
My therapist wants to give me a full frontal lobotomy, but I'd rather have a full bottle in front of me. I stole that from C.
I probably need electroshock therapy, but I'm running out of money and so I'll try blow drying my hair in the shower tomorrow instead.
In other news, I am going to a bridal shower tomorrow. I believe marriage is sacrosanct. I think you should invest all your money in a stock that has a 50% failure rate. I love chicken so much that I want to eat the same chicken dinner every night until I die. I think that love isn't fully realized until you make someone make a promise that they can't possibly know whether they will be able to keep or not. And make it until death.
Where's my goddamn hairdryer?

These adventures will fill your eyes with love.

2011-04-17T16:18:00.000-07:00

I actually had anxiety-ridden dreams last night due to today's scheduled 19 mile run. It wasn't that I had to run 19 miles, but that the clinic was only doing 10 and so I would have to continue on for another 9.
Running long distances is mental enough, but when everyone you're running with is stopping for coffee and you have put on some music, refuel and then run away from them, alone, well, that takes some doing.
I actually had no idea if I was going to be able to accomplish it as I left everyone (and my car) behind and started out. I knew it was an important run to finish because I have three 20 mile runs coming up and they will be predominately alone. And it was sunny. And I was listening to the new Elbow album. And there's been a lot of talk of "mantras" at the clinic these days and people ask what mine is and I'm always kind of flippant and say "ow, ow, ow" or "make the pain stop" and when I say that I see the light in their eyes dim a little because they don't get that I'm a little more sardonic than most, but really my mantra is "you do this all the time" and I calculate how many miles I have left and I know how long it will take me to run it and I say "you've got 25 minutes to go" even though I've been running for two hours and twenty minutes, but whatever.
I did it. I was even on the verge of singing along with Paolo Nutini as I came down St. Andrews.
Suck it, gremlins.
Then I lay on my couch for a long time.
Now I have to walk down to Michael's cause he has my goddamn car.
I could've planned this bit slightly better.

I ran 9 miles today but, clearly, it wasn't enough.

2011-04-13T23:06:00.000-07:00

But hey, did you know Elbow's got a new album out?

Ratcheting it up

2011-04-12T21:55:00.000-07:00

So everyone that I run with has started to taper for the May 2nd marathon. This is occurring just as my mileage is starting to ratchet up rather exponentially, and is going to result in one 19 miler and three 20 milers solo. I have never had to run that far, that often, solo. I'm good for 14 miles, but above and beyond that I need help. I need mental stimulation and encouragement.
I begged and cajoled C and he said he would probably help me out for a segment of one of them. And Michael said he would come out on his bike to help me out, but I need more.
And so I put an ad on CL. It was platonic. I laid out the pace and distance that I was looking for. I didn't care if a man or woman answered it: I just need help getting through it. Like the time I tried to run to West Van and back and totally bonked on Welch and some random guy ran by, saw what was going on and got me moving again until I was about a mile from home (god bless you, random guy).
Anyways. I had one response to my ad. A guy that sent a shirtless pic espousing his back muscles, saying he wants to "slim down for Cancun".
Ahhh, Craigslist. You're breaking my heart...

Mondays

2011-04-11T22:17:00.000-07:00

Rolled out of Michael's place before ten today. Showered. Wanted to have a cup of the coffee I made but there was no time so I put it in this glass container that is really supposed to be like a single serve loose tea deal, and so the opening is really big, and so I arrived at my therapist's with dried coffee dots on my forehead and nose from where it splashed up on me during the drive over. Naturally I didn't discover this until after our session. Yeah. I'm going to be there for years. Okay not really. My extended health care only covers $500 a year for mental health (but $1,500 a year for massage therapy: go figure) and at $3 a minute I really hope we get all my issues sorted out next week cause I can't afford to continue on much longer.
Gorgeous day. Shopped. Cleaned up. Had my tires swapped and met Michael for coffee at the Quay. So cool that he could break away from work for fifteen minutes to come and see me. He walked slowly up the stairs back to his office since he ran close to 22 miles yesterday. Afterwards I sat on a bench in the glorious sun and finished reading the Vanity Fair article on Julian Assange. Life is rough. Did a bunch of other stuff and then watched "Stripes" with Bill Murray. Fucking love Bill Murray. I was in love with him when he was in "Ghostbusters" and then I fell in love with him again for "Lost in Translation". The movie, though. Yeah. Reminded me of me. A lazy, self-indulgent smart ass with a superiority complex, delusions of grandeur and a problem with authority. Breakthrough! What am I paying $150 every Monday for??

Too much

2011-04-09T22:38:00.000-07:00

This is another weekend of "too much". Too much running. Too much eating. Too much drinking.
A coworker asked me what I was up to on the weekend and I told her and she was like "that's a lot". And I said "yeah, plus I have to squeeze in eight and thirteen miles". Whoops. Weekends like this happen. The key is to just stay on schedule.
Today we slept in. Like, hella slept in. The eight miles became 7.5.
Went to see Big D's new place in East Van. SWANK. So nice. Stunning views. Excellent company. So nice to see one of my best friends so happy and in such nice surroundings with such nice company.
Tried to get into Bin 942 for a tapas before heading over to my mom's but the line up went into the alley (at 5pm, no less) and if there's one thing I hate more than the conservative Christian right it's long line ups and so we grabbed coffee and then went to my mom's and picked her and my aunt up and went to Transylvania on Broadway for dinner. Meh. Not as good as the reviews had led me to expect, though I still devoured everything like a vacuum cleaner. (C: I picked up a $10 off voucher and it's got your name all over it).
Came home. The phone rings at 10:15 and it's Michael thinking he's lost his keys for the second time this week. The first time I was able to help him out because I have a set of his and he has a set of mine. So he currently has my spare sent and has made copies but hasn't given me any. I was like, "so now what?" but then he found his keys, which is a good thing. Poor guy. Rough week.
Tomorrow I run 13 miles (theoretically) and then meet L downtown for lunch and then the North Shore Alcoholics meet for cheap beer and pizza later that night. If there is one thing that runners are good at, it's drinking beer and eating pizza.
Long term: lots of running. A half marathon. A house sitting stint. Gotta get my snow tires off. I need a vacation but I don't get one until I finish my marathon on the Island in June. Then I get the week. I have no plans for that week and I think I want to keep it that way. I never do nothing. Ever. It should be interesting.
And through all of this? Michael. I showed a coworker a couple of pics of him and she asked if I wanted to trade. And I didn't want to trade because she's way better looking than me, and she's a great cook: he'd never come back!
After 10 years together it's easy to start to take someone for granted and today I acknowledge that I dragged him all over hell's half acre and we got home late and I only have 13 miles tomorrow but he has 18 miles and he was happy and easy going the entire time. I should really try and be more reciprocal in the relationship. I'm not sure which is the easier route: learning to cook; or being an easy going individual.

Funny

2011-04-06T21:52:00.000-07:00

I ran nine miles after work today. That wasn't funny.
Daniel Tosh, however? Very funny.

Hello vast, vacuous space which is my blog

2011-04-02T22:05:00.000-07:00

This morning someone texted me a couple of times at 4am and I was a bit surprised, but I had been expecting it. Or, this morning at 4am someone was drunk and lonely and thought of me.
Today we ran a very hilly 8 mile course with an average 8:34 minute per mile pace. Or, today I pointed out the white and pink cherry blossoms as we ran down Highland in the sun.
This afternoon my mom and I drove out to see my brother and A and to pick up my new rims. Or, this afternoon we visited a couple of farmer's markets and we went to a petting zoo resplendent with goats, ugly turkeys, a scary llama, a donkey, pigs, a pony and some little cows with long eyelashes, and the sky was brilliant on our drive home.
Tonight. Tonight. I'm unapologetic, or I'm hopeful. I'm tired, but I'm expectant. Desirous, but resigned.
Tomorrow I have many miles to run.

But also...

2011-03-29T00:31:00.000-07:00

I miss your stupid face

2011-03-29T00:28:00.000-07:00

Winning

2011-03-25T19:44:00.000-07:00

So earlier in the week I emailed my brother because he said that he would pick up some spare rims for me for Christmas to mount my snow tires on. Every time I switch my tires it costs me $100, plus the pain and aggro of trying to get my car into a shop somewhere with every other mad bastard in the city.
He replied that he would source some out. He just called and picked up a set for $20 (had to drive from Abbotsford to Maple Ridge to get them) and that unfortunately they still had the tires on them, but he will try and get the tires off by the time I pick them up.
Best. Christmas gift. Ever. He will now be saving me $200 a year in perpetuity. How awesome is that?
Yeah. It's pretty goddamn awesome. I have the best little six foot tall brother ever.

Cookie

2011-03-24T23:20:00.000-07:00

Dude.
Get Netflix and watch Arrested Development until your newly lasered eyes fall out, or rent it or whatever, but check it out.
'S good.

Marisa Tomei

2011-03-23T22:24:00.000-07:00

You know how it sometimes happens that you watch a series of movies that accidentally star the same person? Such is my movie viewing experience of late. With Marisa Tomei, no less. Didn't really know much of her work: I remembered her from "My Cousin Vinny". That was about it.
Then I watched "Happy Accidents" which was comme ci comme ca. I do also like Vincent D'Onofrio, but this movie was meh.
"The Wrestler" was next. I must say I had a new found respect for Mickey Rourke after watching "Barfly". He was absolutely stellar in that movie, and I recommend the movie itself. What the fuck he has done to his face in the interim is beyond me. He was perfect in "The Wrestler". Life imitating art? Whatever. Brilliant movie, moving performance. And Tomei as the aging stripper. Mmmmm.... I dunno. Her body at 44 or 45 is on par with any stripper that I've ever seen that was fifteen years her junior.
Finally: "Before the Devil Knows You're Dead" is, so far, excellent. Again with the delayed gratification. I want to savour it. Sidney Lumet ("Network" and, unbelievably, "12 Angry Men": two absolutely amazing movies). Excellent.
And so concludes my randomly intertwined movie synopsis featuring - mostly - Marisa Tomei.
Seriously.
She can act. And has an amazing body.
Amazing.

Howard Roark and Charlie Sheen

2011-03-18T23:06:00.000-07:00

I finished The Fountainhead.
You know, I did enjoy Atlas Shrugged, but then I realized the folly of my ways subsequently, because after reading Naomi Klein's Shock Doctrine it's pretty clear that "lassez faire capitalism" results in massive socio-economic and political issues.
I wanted to like The Fountainhead. I did root for the resolute nature of Roark and Dominique, but I can't help but concede with Nora Ephron when she states "it is better read when one is young enough to miss the point. Otherwise, one cannot help thinking it is a very silly book". Ow. Snap.
Yes, I think I understand the main crux of Ayn Rand's Objectivism: "My philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute".
That's great. And it was great when Roark chose to starve instead of building what Michael and I like to call "pink stucco houses" (ie: sell out or compromise). But he did starve and then he was recognized and appreciated and he was a success.
What if he wasn't a success? Not everyone can be a success. The Walmart greeter is not there by choice, but they have to pay the bills. It's like homeless people: do you give them money or not? I worked downtown for years and my premise was this: are they employable? If they were, I gave them nothing. If they weren't? Like the toothless guy in his 70s playing the harmonica on Granville? I gave them money.
There isn't enough room in the world for us all to be artists, architects, writers, engineers, pioneers of industry. Someone has to do the grunt work. Someone has to fail. And the people doing the grunt work in real life aren't as full of zeal and idealism as Roark's construction team. And human weakness is a part of life and it's an externality that we all have to bear.
This is really long winded, I know. You might want to go grab another glass of wine because I'm not done yet.
Okay. So I thought, "hey Rand thinks man's own happiness is the moral purpose of his life". Well, I know the handful of things in life that make me happy and so we should just engage in those things and take pleasure in them the way Charlie Sheen loves blow and hookers, right? But no: that's apparently sub-human, per Rand: "There is a difference between rational self-interest as pursuit of one's own life and happiness in reality, and whim-worship or "hedonism." A whim-worshiper or "hedonist," according to Rand, is not motivated by a desire to live his own human life, but by a wish to live on a sub-human level. Instead of using "that which promotes my (human) life" as his standard of value, he mistakes "that which I (mindlessly happen to) value" for a standard of value, in contradiction of the fact that, existentially, he is a human and therefore rational organism. The "I value" in whim-worship or hedonism can be replaced with "we value," "he values," "they value," or "God values," and still it would remain dissociated from reality. Rand repudiated the equation of rational selfishness with hedonistic or whim-worshiping "selfishness-without-a-self." She held that the former is good, and the latter evil, and that there is a fundamental difference between them".
Well goddamnit if I'm not evil.
You know what I like about Charlie Sheen (and yes, Tiger Woods)? He does whatever he wants. He has the money and the ability to do anything he wants in a particular day and what he does does not conform with mainstream society. His recent "productive achievement" (Two and a Half Men) was by no means a noble achievement. That show fucking sucked, and he knew it (and admitted as such). But he was making 2 million dollars an episode. He was building giant pink stucco houses.
And why does society hate him? Because he has choices and opportunities that the average person can't even begin to formulate, and we, as a society, are jealous of that. And so when he strays outside of the rules that have been societally imposed upon him, well, we just really want to punish him for that, don't we. He has what we don't have: money; success; power; hot chicks; freedom; accolades; attention; a following; a safety net, and we can't stand that he is not following some subscribed ideal of what it is that we would do if we were in his shoes, because we're all so high minded and altruistic, aren't we?
I admit that I'm what Rand would refer to as a "second hander": I haven't created anything new. I follow the path that has already been laid. Perhaps one day I might erect my own Stoddard Temple - it remains to be seen.
In the interim? I refuse to suffer.

Another perspective

2011-03-14T00:21:00.000-07:00

This is what my brother sent to my mom and I today (the pic is mine).

The Lasqueti Chapter
A life has many chapters. Some are good, some are bad, some last forever, some are very short.
Sometimes a bad chapter, can be the cause of a good chapter. Sometimes a good chapter can lead into a bad chapter.
Sometimes you can hold onto a chapter too long, instead of letting it end in it's prime.
Sometimes people move on with you from chapter, to chapter, other times, they are left behind. When a chapter is done, you can't add to it, you can't change it, all you can do is look back on it.
A chapter can be an event, a time frame, an object, a person, or even a place.
For me, the Lasqueti island chapter has been an ongoing chapter since I can remember. Some of my earliest memories are from Lasqueti.
It seems like when a chapter is great, we want to keep it going forever. We want to hold on because we want to relive the moments that made it great.
But no matter how hard you try. No matter how much you try to make it the same, it never will be.
I've tried to reenact some of the best days of my life.
I always have high hopes that I'll make a day even more memorable than the original, but it always comes up short.
The people change, the event changes, the location changes. Something always makes it a bit different, and it's never quite as good.
All I can do is hope that I have more epic days. Days that might involve different people, places, or events, but are great in their own way.
It seems like those days always do come around.
Sometimes I don't even realize I'm living one of those days until I look back on it, and realize it will forever be in my memory as a day to look back on, and smile.
The Lasqueti chapter is done for me. It ended sooner than I thought it would, but sometimes chapters do that. It can't be stretched out or added to.
There wont be any more kayaking along the water line, or trips to the Finnerties. They wont be anymore cliff jumping, or fort building. They wont be anymore tennis on a private, waterfront tennis court, or fishing from Stan's dock.
There wont be anymore sitting on the front deck, on a warm summer night, watching the sun slowly drop behind the tree line, with its final glow glistening off the water.
My last trip to the island won't have any great memories. I guess I didn't expect it to. The great parts of the chapter have already been written.
The elements needed to write another great part, wont come around again. The chapter needs to end.
So many great chapters have ended in my life. They all end for different reasons. Why is it so hard to say goodbye? Surely I know that all the chapters will end.
It's naive to think I can stretch them out. I guess it's just the thought that no chapter will ever be the same. The things I experienced, will never be experienced again.
Maybe there is a fear, that nothing I will experience in the future will ever be as good.
It feels so strange to leave such a remote island, where things like power and heat aren't just taken for granted, and return back to the city, and the 9-5 job.
Lasqueti seems like it's a world away. Different people, different scenery and a different life style. The people are different and the day of the week doesn't matter.
Getting out of bed at the crack of dawn, to get in a vehicle, and drive to a job, seems like a lifetime ago, but it was only 3 days, and now, it's time to return to it, and return to writing the other chapters.

Random kindnesses

2011-03-12T22:59:00.000-08:00

A trying weekend, surely. A whirlwind trip up and back. It was cold there. Heating a 100 year old house is difficult at best.
I would find myself getting into the groove things, relaxing and enjoying the views, the surroundings and then it would hit me: I'll probably never experience this again. I ended today's run on the point, startling a couple of loons and some laggard Canadian geese in the process. Staring out at the bay, at Vancouver Island, noticing that there were still jellyfish in the bay. There were scads of them in the summer.
We played Scrabble again today, to pass the time. I think we were all on edge. Waiting for the death knell. Waiting for the ride that would take us to the dock and put us on the ferry for the last time. I used to leave the island and stand on the back of the ferry and watch that white house until it was no longer visible.
The circumstances were bad, but it was wonderful being with my family. It's funny how we all sort of segue into this natural groove. It was nice. It wouldn't have worked with any other dynamic.
Then a couple that run a B&B on the island popped by to introduce themselves to us before we left. I hadn't really entertained the idea of returning to Lasqueti, but the genuineness of these people and their easily affected happiness made me consider the possibility of a return.
Terry drove us to the ferry and we were greeted at the dock by Kathy and Laurence, long, long time residents of Lasqueti. Kathy had parting gifts for us. We unwrapped them on the ferry: beautiful cedar boxes from their company, Wildwood. Made with Lasqueti Island cedar. It was perfect and they were beautiful.
It is, indeed, nice to be so wonderfully surprised by people. To not be left alone. To be thought of.
And such was our trip to Lasqueti.

I'm going

2011-03-09T21:36:00.000-08:00

It's nice to be pleasantly surprised.

Au revoir.

Fibonacci

2011-03-08T22:11:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow I have to go in to work and ask for the next two days off with no notice, during an audit, so that I can go to Lasqueti one last time with my family.

I'm sure that will fly.

This is stressful. Everyone is stressed. Jay managed to get Thursday and Friday off and now I have to do the soft shoe shuffle and convince them that it's imperative that I go. And it is. I want to sleep in my room again. My dad and I drywalled and painted and carpeted and hung curtains in that room. It's the nicest bedroom in the house.

I want to wake up in the morning and look out of the warped, 100 year old windows at the bay, at the arbutus tree, hear the waves lapping against the shore, the raucous crows and shrieking seagulls. More likely the sound of the rain as it hits the plasticky leaves of the arbutus trees scattered, slippery, on the ground. Feel the haze of fog and rain and salt water. Dew soaked pantlegs and sand covered feet.

The past is present

2011-03-07T22:19:00.001-08:00

Watched a rather silly movie about being able to travel back in time today.

Made me wonder what I would go back to change, given the chance.

There's the obvious: I wouldn't have argued with my father the last time I saw him. And maybe I would've quit my job (which I would lose 6 months later, anyways) to help him up at Lasqueti and to try and work on my writing (like we had argued about).

I would've tried to understand him more. And my mother too. Sometimes it's hard to think of your parents as people: they're simply your parents. But if I'm this fucked up at 34, hell, they've got almost 30 years on me so they've been there and done that and got married and raised two kids in the interim. What do I know?

I wouldn't have picked on and beat up my brother as much as I did. I suppose at the time it made me feel bigger, more superior and in control. I'm just thankful that now that he is five inches taller than me he doesn't feel the need for revenge.

It's all irrelevant and I'm not one for thinking "what could have been". It is what it is and it's how you deal with it.

As it stands there are 24 hours left until, possibly, Lasqueti is no longer ours.

We were lucky to have it as long as we did. It was like an entity in my life, a part of me, of who I aspired to be. It is infinitely beautiful and boundless. I literally have a lifetime of memories.

Cosmos

2011-03-05T23:12:00.000-08:00

When we lived in South Surrey we went to Cosmos on Marine Drive for dinner a lot. The food is great and it's on the beach and we, as a family, always had a great time. After my parents sold the house in South Surrey we went to Cosmos for dinner to celebrate.
It's A's birthday tomorrow, and for her 30th she wanted to have a family dinner and, incidentally, she chose to have it at Cosmos.
I hadn't been there in years and it was a nice time and it's always good to make new memories (not the least of which was A's 2 1/2 year old niece beelining to me to give me a hug... I still think she had mistook me for someone else: Barney, maybe). Always nice to see A's family, and Greg showed up as well, which always makes for a good time.
The odd bit was that just before we left Kits to head into White Rock we received a call from the caretaker of our property at Lasqueti. It seems that the potential buyer viewed it today and was really impressed. The subjects need to be removed in the next three days.
Good news? Bad news?
It hasn't happened yet. I know we need to move forward, but it's hard to when it's been such an integral part of all of our lives. Lasqueti was there before I even arrived on the scene. It's where I learned to drive a car, shoot a .22, bait a hook, kayak, conserve energy, save water and to stop eating crabs.
Yeah. After setting out a crab trap one day my dad and I pulled it up and we had a few crabs in there and I was all happy at 12 or 14 years old and my dad said "You know how you cook these, right?" and I confessed that I did. So he pulled them all out and dropped them back into the ocean.
It was my father's sanctuary. My mom didn't like it. I loved it but wasn't smart enough to live there. Jay quit his job of 10 years to work on the place, teaching himself as he went, before we put it on the market.

I dunno, man.

I guess we'll see what happens in the next couple of days.

Two steps backwards

2011-03-03T22:24:00.000-08:00

It's coming. I can feel it.

In other news. Book club tonight. I like everyone saving one individual. She's wrecking it for me. I don't understand how someone in their 70's could have made it through life without ever checking their ego at the door. Granted, I have a blog and there's really not much more narcissistic than that, but when I go to book club I don't interrupt. I don't pretend to be an authority on anything. I just want to talk about the book and experience other peoples' perceptions of said book.

Case in point. One of the book club questions related to ridiculous things we might have done in order to beautify ourselves. A couple of us (me included) chirped up that we'd had some rather abysmal perms. This woman went on to say (roughly) "I worked at Woodwards and I was the most attractive person there. So I was approached by some people that wanted me to be the model for a Noxzema ad". This came after we had discussed high school experiences (if you know me, which you don't, you know mine were less than stellar). She said (roughly) "everyone loved everyone when I was in high school. I had a great time. Though I guess it was easy because I was one of the most popular ones. I was the homecoming queen!".

Do I have latent issues relating to my experience in high school? Yes. Do I have self-image issues? Yes. Can I be unbelievably egotistical? Yes. Do I cut people off, direct attention at myself and interject self-serving stories into a situation that requires group participation? No.

I can't believe I'm even writing about this given other scenarios that are currently unfurling.

I have a blessed life. This is obviously evidenced by the fact that the thing that is upsetting to me currently relates to book club. I mean, jesus.

Anyways. The Help. A good (not great) read. Possibly more relevant because I think it's important to continue to bring shameful things of days yore to the forefront; in this case it's racism in the South in the early 60s.

My grandmother worked at Woodwards decades ago. She died when I was 13 or 14. She sailed the world on the Alphora with my grandfather and knitted me clothes for my Cabbagepatch Kid. After she died my father called me into the den for this random, rambling conversation during which he broke down and cried. It was the only time I ever saw him cry in my life. The curtains in the den had jousting knights on them.

Yes. Charlie Sheen.

2011-03-02T22:58:00.001-08:00

Michael forwarded me this link about Charlie Sheen today. I actually haven't really been following the whole debacle too closely, but anything Michael sends is always good and this is an absolutely excellent, well written, well balanced article.
Takes me back to the days when I used to defend Tiger Woods vigorously to my coworkers.
Dude: let's not delude ourselves. The rich and famous simply do what we proletariats would do if we weren't all working like bastards to pay off mortgages and raise kids.
Good thing I'm childless and have a negligible mortgage.

The small successes in life

2011-03-01T22:46:00.000-08:00

Today I made a correct decision. They've been few and far between of late.

This will either be a step in the right direction, or the one step forward I take before I take two giant steps backwards.

Place your bets now.

Oenophile

2011-02-28T20:06:00.000-08:00

Ebbs and flows

2011-02-25T23:56:00.001-08:00