I am home. I have decided to give up my apartment after walking into it and discovering a positively yucky feeling lingering within. I should have moved last Spring but I was being stubborn, thinking that I could afford it on my own and that rearranging furniture would make it seem like a new place.
But it is nauseatingly the same. So I am trying to sort out a new place. But first I need to find a new job. And it is the hockey playoffs! So much for easing back into the city. So much to consider. So much financial torpor. How would I go about selling pictures? Birdie recommended it as an idea. I briefly considered the 'sell the panties' idea, Tim, but it was just too ironic.
I am a bit mad at myself for being so deliberately naive about money matters. Here is this campaign I did FOR FREE at the Canadian Film Centre. It is everywhere. I had no idea I'd be pimping my alma mater that extensively. And I signed a contract saying I wouldn't ask for payment for it. Can you believe that? I am a bit of a tard.
Ran into David from Aunties and Uncles and he invited me and Julia to watch hockey at a sports bar tonight where the beer is cold and the wings are cheap. Chicken wings! I was thinking about vegetarianism, but quitting smoking and (planning on) going to the zen centre is quite enough, thank you. I reel at absolutism. I would rather be a meditating, wing-eating, non-smoking beer drinking mess of contradictions, thank you.
Yesterday I saw Kate, Julia and Emily and it was so so so good to reconnect with the girls. Everthing and nothing has changed. New love blooms for all (last year this time seemed so bleak! I could never have anticipated that we would now all be gushing).
Apparently no one in Toronto went out this winter (in montreal, where the winter was worse, everyone was saying words like 'paxil' and 'zoloft'). I think it was a brutal winter for everyone and I am not sorry I missed it.
But today it is 20 C and sunny and Voodoo Polly, my bicycle, is ready for a tour. My jaw is still on edge a bit. Sometimes returning to cities can feel like running into an old friend with whom you never resolved an argument.
But Chris comes home tonight. I can't wait! I think I missed him more this week than in all the time I was in India. My mom offered to drive me to the airport to pick him up. He is kind of like beer, hockey playoffs when the hometeam is doing well, a well-tuned bicycle, the middle of a good novel, and +20C after a hard winter, all rolled into one.
