Together again. Late night phone calls are so much better when they're local.

It keeps resonating in my head

...Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle....


...Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything – all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart....

- Steve Jobs

(read the entire speech here)

The perfect night

Movies under the stars. Million Dollar Baby. I was a bit bummed because after some cancelations I ended up going alone. It didn't end up mattering at all.

I set up shop at the park. There were loads of people but I made out pretty good. Brought some magazines and waited for the sun to go down. The moon was beautiful, almost full. Around me people were drinking wine, eating food and just enjoying themselves, slowly other solo people started sitting around me. I found it comforting to be in a group of individuals.

The city was breathtaking to look at, absolutely amazing. Dorota came by with some Chinese food for a bit, really good food..I need to get the name of that restaurant. The weather was perfect, it was almost chilly near the water. So perfect I fell asleep for a minute (or two).

At the climax, the most serious part of the movie a party boat pulled up on the river. It was a strange contrast between the tragedy on the screen and the disco lights and dancing music of the boat.

I think this is what my wednesday nights will look like until the end of the summer.

Today, yesterday, tomorrow...

A conversation over dinner yesterday took me back to 9th grade. Somehow talking about that led to reminiscing during the carpool home. About liking boys, hating girls, journals and cliques.

His name was Brennan A. (full names withheld to protect me from google). I was 12. He was a Woodwards catalogue model. He was in my grade 6 class. Mlle Hawley. I used to keep his flyer in my bed stand and look at it before I went to bed. He found my pendant in the field when I lost it one lunch hour. He held hands with my best friend Kristin the next year. I was so over him by then.

Grade 7, Ivan B. M Terasse's class. He waited with me one day after school for my mom to pick me up. He tried to do a flip off the swings and broke his arm. I remember him turning green, it was pretty gross. That didn't work out.

In grade 8 there was Ray D. I liked him soooo much. I called him one day and asked him what an onomatopoeia is and then ask if he wanted to do something sometime. He said he was busy. I asked him for sometime. Nobody is busy sometime. 5 years later we went to prom together. Good times.

Friday night live. Stairway to Heaven and One. Always having safety pins to make calls home. Catholic school all boy school parties. I'm glad we met Dennis that day.

I used to be late for school alot. Alot. After 5 lates you have to do garbage duty. I hated garbage duty. I had to wear rubber gloves. In grade 9 they opened a McDonald's a block from school, going off school grounds to eat felt good. As soon as we could drive we'd go to Lougheed Mall for lunch. Good conversations, good friends, crappy food. We were way too young to talk like we did, we had no idea how silly we must have sounded.

In grade 11 we used to meet in that same McD's parking lot after the police came and shut down our parties. Then all go to Hickey Courts out of the view of the road and the prying eyes of authority. Too many fights, too many fast cars. I think our third spot was Mundy Park. I can't remember but there was always a plan, everyone didn't have cell phones then.

Mary was my best friend. Then Stacy took her away. Then there was Jill. We grew apart. Kristen stuck around for years. When we were 12 she picked my name out of a hat to make a secret lunch for and we were inseperable for years. When I was at the height of my awkward phase she told me she thought I was pretty, I'll never forget that. I wonder where she is now. I ran into her sister on Davie street last time I was home and heard she lives in Kits.

90210 parties and Girl Talk. I had to call Aly and sing him Row, row, row your boat. It was so embarassing. During the summer I took extra credit to make my course load lighter for grade 12. I have no idea why I did it school was not really my thing at 16. That decision changed my life.

Class trips to chateaux in the Loire valley, to Calgary and Seattle. Getting 'grounded' in the Sea-Tac Marriott for having a Canucks victory party. It was 94, a good year. Sneaking out. We'd sleep in tents, sleep in the camper, sleep under the stars. I wouldn't sneak out that late now. With age comes common sense.

Paris for spring break, the rapping guys we met in Nice. They didn't speak english but knew every Tupac song by heart. It was precious. The sweet parisian guys who tried to help our 17 year old asses find a hot club. They complimented my french...I laughed because I knew it sucked. Trying to sneak rose in fear of getting sent home. Our last night in France, we got pizza and ice cream and sat on the beach...even made curfew. Things changed once we got back.

Wine Pine Beach the last day of school. Sneaking into Barnet Marine Park after finals for the annual bonfire. RV's on Burnaby Mountain for grad. Somehow I lost touch after that. Went one way and them another. I tried after first year, but it was all the same, same faces, same parties, same everything but me. I was different.

Musings, reflections, ponderings

A colleague just told me that I look like I'm talking to the screen when I'm working. I wonder what that means? He said it with a smile, so I'm assuming all is good. Feeling like a bit of an idiot today, need to define things - I don't do well with ambiguity. I forgot what a control freak I am (all those times people called me Monica I laughed at them)...I have control issues, a very internal locus of control. Got to work on that. I've lost touch with some important people, I'm going to have to make some calls tonight. I've been very bad at prioritizing communication. Blogging has made me lazy at keeping in touch. I'm glad I have people to call at midnight when I'm frustrated. Shit, as much as I'm fighting it, its happening, being a girl sucks....

What's making me happy right now...

My sexy new 'blond' highlights ;). Work. Finding parking on my block all this week. Dorota's return to my world. Visitors from home (with presents). Planning for the weekend of Aug 26th. Knowing that even though it hurts right now, she will be okay. Hockey strike, what hockey strike? Beer at noon. Having a favorite restaurant. Knowing that I'll get to hang out with Amy again soon. Not having baggage. Getting a Macleans every week. Being healthy.

Puente de la Mujer, Puerto Madero, Buenos Aires

Came across this bridge on a midnight stroll after some wine. Stopped me in my tracks.

Think its by the same guy?

Lonely...I'm so lonely....

Yes, yes the title is a bit dramatic, but its me, you can't expect anything less.

I came home to an empty apartment today. Last night was my first night alone in ages. On my way home from Argentina I met Amar at the airport and he stayed for the week, then after dropping him off I went to Roma's for the night. Blah. In general I like my space and like living alone but tonight I'm just a bit lonely.

World Citizenship or Blistful Ignorance?

My I got my H1-B papers today. I'm now legal to work in this country for years, many more than I ever thought I would.

This nomadic lifestyle, of not truly belonging to the place that I live is troubling me. The micro aspects of living here are not part of my thoughts. I don't know much about the income tax I pay (I know the amount and %, but I don't really care because its outside my scope of influence). Paying attention to the daily grind is out of little importance to me, I don't know about the educational system, about how its funded, or know enough about access to public post-secondary, my only interaction and frustration with the health care system is my personal dealings with it, I don't know anything about the history and constraints around it. There are many things about the US I don't like. Social policy, defense spending, values of the conservatives. I'm not a citizen though so I'm not overly investigative. Maybe I'm lazy, its just easier to complain about the american way of life than to be a active member of it.

I voted in the last Canadian election, it wasn't a strategic decision, I just happened to be in town at the right time. If I'm still a foreign resident during the next election I'll have to sign a form saying that I plan on returning to my riding within 5 years. Even if I move back to Canada I won't be moving to my old riding in which the last election result was determined by less than 50 votes so every one made a difference. So where does that leave me? I'm not attached to anywhere...when are the global elections?

Last year in the Netherlands it was even easier to be ignorant to my local environment. The racism, the political environment, the social structure, was all there but I got most of my "local" news from expat websites or the bbc. I couldn't tell you what happened in NL last year, I have no idea.

So all of us who are travelling the world, what society do we belong to..who is accountable to us? The world is separated by borders which we are trying to live without, but where does that leave us. Nationalisitic/liguistic pride aside - what does it really mean to be from somewhere if you're not planning to contribute back and play a role in moving that society forward. Does this global village really exist and what does it mean to be apart of it?

Dilemmas, dilemmas...

The sounds of rebuilding...

My time in Buenos Aires was spent living the high life. Good restaurants, amazing wine, chaffeurs, security detail watching the people that were watching us shop, everything was taken care of down to the minute detail. Definitely not my favorite way to experience a new culture.

This is a stark contrast to my travelling in recent years...I longed to take a bus, to interact with regular people, to see if the Argentines were actually as spunky as I imagined them to be.

On Friday afternoon I was on my own. All my colleagues had left and I was left to my own devices to wander around and discover the real BA. Freedom :)

I walked out of the Recoleta, the neighbourhood that had been my home for the week, and made my way to the pink palace to see do some shopping and see the infamous balcony from where Evita, and many other presidents, addressed the nation (think, "Don't cry for me Argentina"). Leaving the hotel some colleagues/friends mentioned to be careful, as there were loads of panhandlers/kids asking for money in on my chosen route. I think people forget that I look like I could be Argentinian, that I look like I could actually be from around anywhere in South America so I won't be bothered in the same way as a blond haired, blue eyed foreigner.

I walked the whole of Calle Florida and as I approached Plaza de Mayo I started hearing the tell tale sounds of a protest, or people gathering with a message for the government, a message so urgent it couldn't wait. The signs were all in Spanish (of which I speak less than 10 words) so I weaved my way through the crowd trying to get an idea of why they were there. There were kids everywhere, kids asking for more funding for public education, for a stop to hunger...it was amazing to see and I was relieved to see that the revolutionary spirit is alive and well in a country that has been throught so much change in the past 3-5 years.

It was really powerful to see, and quite a sight to see it all happening in front of parliament, in the same place as most other movements, from the worker's revolution to the economic backlash.

These people looked markly different then the people I had spent my week with, they were darker, less European, homemade woven sweaters and no fur coats. With the exception of my designer purse and shoes I didn't stand out and I spend a chunk of my afternoon singing/clapping along to the live music and chanting towards something I feel strongly about.

It started to get late and I had to get back in order to make it back to the hotel before my driver came. I left the plaza and 20 minutes later heard this banging. More people, this time older people with a message, banging the walls of a government building with hammers, being lead by a conductor with a pencil stick. The noise was deafening, but reminded me that there is still years of rebuilding left in the country's future.

I'm back in New York now. Back to life.