i walked to the cafe on the corner, sat on the lovely terrace and blogged in the sun. i sipped an espresso and ate a chocolate croissant. it was lovely.

i walked to go to a thrift shop that was a little bit far, but went wayward by highway/overpass, then decided to walk the other direction and a gas leak had closed down half the plateau.

i walked and i walked with a pack full of things. i was feeling a bit dazed and unsure. i went into a drugstore and came out with nothing i needed. then home, fixed up and back to my sister’s. it was strange to go back there, but not. i miss my little room, the way it’s bright and clean and simple. but i’m glad for her that she has her space again.

as i got on the bus with a backpack full of bits and pieces left from my sister’s house, it was crowded. a man tapped me on the shoulder and nicely told me to take my backpack off.

i felt a wave of anger rise up in me, then the tears almost overflowed. it was because i always take my backpack off, and give seats to those in need. i am one of those conscientious people. i pay attention.

plus i’d lost my pass on the way over…it reminded me of just another thing that happened that sucked that was not smooth.

the past few weeks, it seems like things just having been going smoothly. it seems that everything is a chore, an effort, and there’s not much energy to – well, do much of anything.

so i stood there with my bags of things at the front of the bus, next to the driver, with tears welling up and wanting to punch something and wondered what the hell i was doing here. why did that make me want to cry so much?

because he reached out and talked to me, only to basically tell me to change my behaviour. not to say hello. not to actually reach out. just because to him, i was doing something wrong.

i just want someone to actually reach out and make a connection and that’s up to me i guess but how? where? when? to who?

no clue.

i decided to metro to Outremont and walked to the nice grocery store by St. Viateur park. i bought a wrap and a beer and a bottle of mineral water and I walked to the park and had a small solo picnic while reading the martian chronicles. kids ran around playing nearby. they were having so much fun, playing things like (probably) cops and robbers. i don’t know…the shouts were in french.

that was a nice part of the day. that’s what i want to do, most days, is read in the park. there’s much of that to be done here, too.

i came home to tidy a little and realized how tired tired tired i was, red eyes. i am trying to make my home in this little nook of a room, trying to make it mine but it’s not happening with ease. it’s not feeling right. i crave a small but airy, bright space to myself  (or shared but for my room to be big and bright) on a higher floor, somewhere with a balcony and big windows.

i don’t want things. i don’t want to settle unless/until i have a really good reason, except i’m not sure where to go next.

so now i focus on just pushing these words out any which way and breathing, too. and i hope for a hug sometime or more but who knows how those happen.

actually i know how they happen…with old friends/lovers/family. and i don’t want to dismiss the people i love now.

but how does it happen in new ways?

i will try to reach. but who knows.

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June: 9 months in.

IMG_2501 (random photo taken at Vendome metro station)

Today’s weather is Vancouver-like. Last week’s was sunny and lovely. I spent a few hours here and there wandering and lounging in the sun.

I miss some people terribly right now. I’m craving a life thick with passion and experiences. I miss that thing. I miss a certain closeness. I have friends here and it’s getting easier with summer coming on but still struggle with how to find it/make it happen here.

I’ve been reconsidering how my time is spent.

I want to connect but I know that the present “here and now” (for me and anyone) is more important. I can’t keep grasping at those things and people that aren’t a part of my presence.

It should be that way and besides, I don’t know what to say.

How to connect without grasping? How to collectively relate?

Last weekend I had the best massage ever and started back at yoga after a brief hiatus. It’s hard.

Three days out this weekend: a queer dance party night thing Friday where I was happy and didn’t drink much. It felt good to get out, B. there w/his roommate. We didn’t go crazy but it was just nice. And the cover went to a good cause.

Sat eve was Jeff’s 50th-also nice to see some folks and be there with him.

Sunday w/Jac at NDQ, Karaoke. That was a blast. I smiled a lot and chatted with new folks. I felt honoured to be invited into her circle a little. We walked through the city at 2am and everywhere I turned there were new things to see.

Still, I drank too much and stayed up too late and ended up feeling strange and disappointed.

My new place is cute enough and…well, dirty. Finally connected with my roommate over there. She’d just moved in and we had a beer and set up the couch and laughed at the state of it all. There is so much work to do and I don’t have any furniture and I’m just not sure how it will all work out.

I’m sad/happy about the camper van. Mom sent me a photo of my best friends buying it from them and it made my heart pang. I haven’t heard from them.

I will head to Toronto at the end of the month and then to Boulder, Austin in July. I need to keep travelling like this to stay sane.

Last week had some days where I was eating pretty clean and not drinking. The sun was out and I felt engaged, energized, clear, empowered and more deeply into focus with work.

So there’s the focus now, to not let my mind wander.

One of my favourite edits of late describes the necessary sacrifice(s) well and reminded me really of what needs to be worked on:

8 Ways Women can Create Space for Creativity.

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Ready for Morning.


Photo: don’t call me betty on tumblr/via Pinterest

I was supposed to go to this this morning, a morning “rave,” (straight) with yoga and dancing and juice. How fun!

Yesterday two of the friends who were maybe going to join told me that they weren’t. It made me feel sad/mad.

So immature.

How old am I anyways, 14?

It’s not right to be mad “at” them…and I’m not…though a few bails in a row (there was more than this) can sting a bit. But it brought up a certain anger/loneliness that’s been building (read: hanging around for much of my life but really obvious and strong right now). It reminded me that, mostly, people aren’t with me on this “morning” thing…and in fact mostly I’m on a different schedule than people all around. The amount of times I’ve gotten up and gone for coffee, walks, etc. in the mornings during my life—well I do it all the time, because I like the way I feel in the morning. But mostly people don’t come with.

Even if there is someone next to me, they pretty much never come with me. 

I am a morning person. Not in that betty crocker way — I’m not perky necessarily. I just like it. I feel fuzzy sometimes, but clear. There is hope in a morning.

I’ve been single for ages, so not many chances to lounge with lovers in the morning. When I did it was special.

I miss that so much. That person, that feeling.

So much.

And I can’t tell them. Most of the people that I miss are bad for me.

The last two people who woke up with me regularly didn’t really appreciate it/me in the end. And that makes me feel sad sometimes too.

People who have it every day or some days don’t even know.

But I’d rather wake up alone and a little lonely than beside someone and lonely.

This much I know.

I did wake up at 6 today. I didn’t go—because it’s far and I have to work and blah blah excuses—but I did remember that this is an important time of day for me.

I like being up.

I walked yesterday, in the morning, to an awesome cafe where there was flamenco and music. It was glorious in it’s own way. I tried to appreciate the hell out of it. Walking through the green and looking at the massive old stone houses…that was so cool. All of it was cool.

But I didn’t feel glory.


The weight.

I thought of all the things I could do this morning…which are actually limited, given that some places aren’t open. But there is the gym and the pool, yoga, and writing. Even reading. I decided that I’m going to just get up and make my mornings what I need to make them.

Push it a little more, lonely soul and all. I’m tired of this being my story. In fact I think I’ve been writing here that I’m tired of it.

But I think I’m angry enough now to use that for good.

The challenge is to get up on my next few days off (unless an actual party should present itself) and do this. This. This. This.

I constantly feel like I’m missing out on life, living it alone. It’s hard to shake that feeling.

I need to do everything in my power to shake this feeling.

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