So I’ve been gone for a while, I wish I had adventurous tales to tell; sadly, I don’t. My life’s been incredibly stagnant to a point where I’m amazed at my own subconscious resistance to change and I mean change of any kind. The most exciting thing that happened during my non-updating period was a trip to Nanaimo; home of the Nanaimo bar and Diana Krall.

Being on the ferry reminded me of my childhood; the airport was a ferry ride away from where we lived, and I’d go with my dad (who went to the airport an awful lot) sometimes. There was this rundown shack by the bay with the most amazing prawn kebabs I’ve ever had. It made me miss him a bit.

I promised myself I’d do so many things this summer, I’m gearing up to a new and better version of me. Except it seems easier to just sit and not do anything; I’m beginning to hate my tv because I feel it injurious to my journey of self-discovery. I sometimes feel tired, old and fed up with the antics of life, I feel guilty when I’m happy, and so much anger and frustration at the world for not caring enough, then I don’t care anymore but I can’t really bring myself to do those things that once made me happy because, really, what’s the point?

I note encounters and conversations like it’s supposed to mean something. I could swear I hear subtle voices urging me on to do things, sort of like in Joan of Arcadia (and that other one Fox cancelled), only less obvious. I’m disillusioned or maybe just sick; the later would explain my new obsession with change and Camper shoes (because great journeys require stylish comfortable shoes).

A client’s file the other day, recounts a vague tale of a guy born in County Down (Northern Ireland) who’d go on to become a citizen of Australia, Finland, Singapore, and finally Canada – I imagine he was trying to find himself or looking to change and felt it meant something.

My sister and I were talking to my mom about health care costs and its burden on governments. My mom asks if ‘hers’ was a burden since the government pays for her treatments, my sister’s reply was… “hers…?” as if she’d forgotten, there’s a long silence on the phone, my mom laughs an uncomfortable laugh and finally responds “my breast cancer….” I wondered if my mom felt like we’d forgotten – I felt that meant something too.

PLAYING: Burn - Usher

READING: Only in London - Hanan Al-Shaykh

WATCHING: Raising Waylon

QUOTE: “Think it's best we go our separate ways”

[Summer Reads]