Thursday, March 29, 2012


Ducking from the flying debris, I vaulted over a half torn down chain-link fence. My heart was pounding from the manic running and each additional step felt like it would rip my lungs to shreds. But to stop... pause, even was to die. So, I kept running away from the sounds of the battle, away from the threat, towards what I hoped was relative safety.

The bunker was partially destroyed, but I spied an opening and shimmied in just as a tremendous explosion lit up the sky and for an instance it was bright as daylight. The walls trembled, but stood firm. For the next few hours I huddled in the darkness trying to contemplate my next move. Exhausted, I fell asleep.

When I awoke, it was to an eerie silence. While I had slept, the battle had passed over me and moved on. The air was thick with smoke and fumes from fires that still burned on the ground. As I looked out wondering if I should leave, a slight movement caught my eye. Someone... or something was approaching the bunker picking its way through the debris field. I watched in panic as it drew nearer knowing that if it came in here, I was defenceless.

Suddenly the smoke cleared and I got a good look at the figure. My heart leaped in relief; it was Beer Baron! Scrambling out of the shelter, I ran towards him calling his name. He stopped and smiled, then as I ran up besides him he raised his hand. He was holding a gun and the gun was pointed at my head. "No.... it's me...." I said, confused. But there was no friendship in his eyes as he spoke. "If it is really you, tell me.... what would you make sure to have in your house before I came over for a visit?"

"Please....." I whispered.

"TELL ME... or I will kill you. Now."

I didn't know the answer. I didn't know what he wanted to hear.... what would keep me alive. Fear and exhaustion washed over me and at that moment I did not care if I would live or die. I looked up at the face of the person I thought was my friend, and said, "A plunger."

His face broke into a smile and he lowered the gun.

And then, I woke up.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Morning Musings

Mornings are most often my Nemesis. They come creeping out of the dark and calm of the night, steal into my dreams and shake me awake from the comfort of dreamland. Morning commutes are the invention of the devil. Every late bus, surly transit work, annoying fellow commuter and gloomy rainy-day becomes a trial by fire experience. And if this is all pre coffee... well... Guantanamo Bay torture would be preferable.

The commute from the new apartment is trying to change all of this. I might not become a morning person (that would take an act of God), but I sure am liking the entire drag-self-out-of-bed-and-get-hiney-in-to-work process a lot more. 

For starters, the streetcar stop is almost right outside my front door. I climb on and have a wide selection of seats because the line begins just a few stops up from my place. Once my bags and bits have been arranged, and my earphones have been popped in, I settle down to the gaze out the windows at the fun views going past. Over the 40 minute ride into down town, we pass twee shops that are just opening up; shutters being raised and welcome mats shaken. Mummys and Daddies herd packs of children along to schools holding satchels and lunch bags while the kids skip ahead or lag behind in direct relation to their morning temperament and the amount of completed homework. We go past the the morning dog walker out with his/her bestie. Crossing guards wave at the streetcar driver; they've both been on the same beat for a while it would seem.

At the end of the ride, I get off the streetcar just before it makes the loop back on an eastbound route. The driver rings the bell as the last person exits. *Ding Ding* And just like that, my commute is done! 

Friday, March 02, 2012

A New Middle

"To every beginning there is an end. 
Once you accept this, life is simple"
                                                    - Buddha    

Now, if only I can manage to live by this message, life would indeed be simpler (er). But wisdom such as this is much easier quoted rather than followed as I have learned over and over again. Still, having just laid down a wack load of money as a down payment for a new home, it seems like a good time to talk about new beginnings. 

As I look back at the posts I have written over the years, it seems that a great deal of them seem to be about new beginnings, starting anew, refocusing, trying a different path in life. On the one hand that may make it seem like I'm the sort of person who is forever trying new things with the aim to getting the most out of the life experience; on the other, it may just mean that I'm a "Jack of all trades and master of none" kinda gal. The former seems structured and purposeful and something to aspire to, the latter gives rise to thoughts about flighty and non directional behaviour. 

I'd LIKE to thing I keep bouncing around to doing new things because it is a desire to expand my horizons. However, the sad truth is that most often I am forced into new beginnings because of the twists and turns my life has taken and that fact that the path that I was on is either barred or no longer exists. So, I change tracks, adapt, move on, start again. It's not perfect, but it's the only way I know how to keep from getting mired down in the boggy mess that sometimes is my existence. 

If new beginnings are hard, endings are even worse and usually drain me emotionally. I often lose my heart to places and people. This of course makes it rather difficult when it comes the time to move away from said places and people, often with the gut wrenching knowledge that we may never meet again. Ever. Usually, this leads to months and months of post separation patch up where I try to live in the "what is now", but always seem to think of the "what has been". Essentially, I go through the emotional turmoil of a breakup every single time. And no, it does not get easier to deal with the more times it happens! 

Two weeks from now, I will pack up all my worldly goods and move into a new apartment here in the T Dot. MY apartment. And now that all the paperwork has finally been signed, I find that I am deathly afraid; more than when I was leaving for Scotland 2 years ago. But I suppose that's OK because after all, this is the most gown-up of adventures I have ever embarked upon. Also, because this is what is going to be necessary for me if I am ever to get over my love affair with G Town, and fall back into love with this city and continue to live (and thrive) in the now. 

I once heard that, "Beginnings are usually scary, endings are always sad, but the middle, the place where the adventure actually happens is usually quite nice." And right now, I'm looking forward to a whole new middle! 

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