December 07, 2011

so I alluded, aggressively loosely, to something happening that I wouldn't talk about now back in January and then spent eleven months not talking about it.


at a conference that neither of us had any real reason to be at, fueled by ridiculous texts and drunken post-danceoff get-low-offs, I met a guy. weeks of texting later, we got our being-in-the-same-cities act together and had beers, photowalks, first kisses and a proper dinner/concert/drinks date (that ended with much impropriety, in the best way.)

ten months, six cities, three weddings and more fossil fuel than I care to admit to later, we're still together, which is nice. and new. and occasionally terrifying.

today's been one of those days; working retail xmas makes it impossible to get away, and boyfriends family being in either Victoria or Kelowna has left us scratching heads after more than a few "well, what about these days?" conversations, when we look at our proposed orbits (and hope for crossed paths and the chance to let all other concerns lay eclipsed,) and find no place where they might intersect. Until this point, we'd been pretty good about seeing each other every 6-8 weeks, and I can't get away from work until mid/late February (which is convenient for other purposes,) which would put it up to three months (read: too damn long.)

so now I'm listening to songs about falling apart, and wondering what to do. fuck.


April 13, 2011


I don't always know what day it is, and it bothers me.

Part of it is a side-effect of working in a weirdly well-lit space, basically underground, with a flow of people working on some rhythms so minutely related to whatever time it is as to be meaningless. The other part of it is the more worrying bit; some deep-seated and elemental resignation of cyclicality to the endless barrage of humanity in varying levels of consumer need/distress that herald un(known/wanted/pleasant) vistas of the same disquieting banality.


January 19, 2011


there's a lot I don't talk about on the internet, at least not in public forums, especially in an age where idle googling is de rigeur, and the acquisition of a place to spew 140-character thoughts is necessary and upkeep/update is equally mandatory; a combination which holds all sorts of potential for downfall, and not even in the expected ways1. Ultimately, I guess people are crazy and distressingly resourceful and anything I'm not comfortable with now (let alone any attempted future self projections) stays under my hat, or locked down elsewhere, or bandied about inside conversations that aren't recorded (to the best of my knowledge.)

anyway: I do enough lying by omission, so I think it's time I had somewhere to exposit, and seeing as there's like five people2 who read this any more, I figure it's a good enough spot.

anyway: onward.

1: witness someone in danger of losing their job over the most tenuous of links to a parody video from one camp of vicious rivals at another— a pair of tracked IPs and a borrowed account lead to a rollover, and there goes the neighbourhood.
2: I'm closing in on 500 people following me on twitter and I don't know why they're there, but I can say with confidence that I've met about half of them.


January 03, 2011

there's a lot to be said about me and Spencer, a little less than that about how much I miss having the guy around, and not a whole lot about the not-Spencer-accompanied bits of my day, but mostly I wanted to talk about this:

just after we were seated at the crepe place, and before we started discussing things ranging from credit limits to future plans to parental surreality, we both took off our coats to reveal plaid shirts with button-down collars, sat down, popped our respective cuffs and rolled them up to the elbow. The conversational stride wasn't broken, the cuffs were pretty much identical (across all four arms), and I didn't even consider it until later, when it made me smile.


January 02, 2011

I don't know what I want, any more. I should probably fix that, and then work towards it.

That said, sitting up in bed listening to the Radio 3 playlist1 while reading old end-of-year posts and sort of hoping someone stumbles on to MSN so I can spew a list of unsureties at them while I skim tweets and debate putting up play-by-plays of my days on this, again (it turns out this was a very accurate title, except where I said one year, I meant five and a half.) are a lot more appealing than applications of effort towards actual long term goal progression.

...there's another thing to fix.

1: it's a smart playlist: songs I've listened to 35 or more times, excepting the ones on my Top 25 Most Played playlist.