It's amazing how quickly things turn around in life, and in London. What a difference a month, a week or a day - or just a good night's sleep - can truly make.
I was walking home today along the Thames with the sun shining down on me while I listened to Patrick Wolf's "The Magic Position." Some of my best moments in London have been walking alone along the Thames listening to music that fits perfectly in the moment. And when the sun bursts through the clouds after days of rain and grey, it makes you take a look around and recognize how beautiful things really are. It brings me back to centre.
I've got two dates arranged next week - two dates that came, more or less, out of nowhere - with people who both seem worthy of the aforementioned butterflies. But moreover, I'm more in-tune with the fact that I see a dozen faces everyday that I could easily fall in love with. The opportunities abound. There's no reason to get discouraged. Life is good. London is great. I am really happy.
London really does make it all better sometimes.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
(Not) Finding Love (In All The Wrong Places)
I went on a few dates recently with someone who was kind and sweet and smart. The conversation was easy, and the company was good. On our last date we walked along the Thames holding hands and enjoyed a good-night kiss; by all accounts, quite nice. A third date was planned, but I was having serious second thoughts: there was no spark, no butterflies, no elation when I received a text message or phonecall.
I've been talking with several friends about the realities of love and dating. It seems, generally speaking, that there are two broad camps, and the line dividing those camps hinge on one rather ridiculous notion: butterflies. There are those that demand it in a relationship, and those that are willing to keep an open mind and work around the fact that sparks may not be there initially.
I saw this recent love interest as a real test as to which camp I stand in. On paper, I believe all people have value and are worth the time to get to know. I don't think you can judge your compatibility with someone based on whether or not they make your knees weak. But at the same time, all I really want is to find someone who makes my knees week. There's nothing more exhilarating, more grounding, than feeling that way about another human being. I need to believe that we live in a magical universe where fantastic things really do happen; where someone amazing will storm into my life, and the romance will fall from the sky like rain.
And so I cancelled the third date. It was an awkward and sad conversation that stretched to 40 minutes, instead of the 10 minutes it should have taken. I felt so bad to disappoint a decent, gentle person who, on so many levels, is looking for exactly the same things I am. What's worse, they responded that they were beginning to feel butterflies for me. That really killed me. Lately I've been mostly on the receiving end of heartbreak, and this was a good reminder that it's just as terrible on the other end. My heart is just too fragile for dating, sometimes.
But I will lift up my chin, I will straighten my collar and tie, and I will head out onto the beautiful streets of London and live my life. Just the idea that someone amazing is waiting out there for me makes being single a lot easier. It makes everything a lot easier.
And so I wait.
I've been talking with several friends about the realities of love and dating. It seems, generally speaking, that there are two broad camps, and the line dividing those camps hinge on one rather ridiculous notion: butterflies. There are those that demand it in a relationship, and those that are willing to keep an open mind and work around the fact that sparks may not be there initially.
I saw this recent love interest as a real test as to which camp I stand in. On paper, I believe all people have value and are worth the time to get to know. I don't think you can judge your compatibility with someone based on whether or not they make your knees weak. But at the same time, all I really want is to find someone who makes my knees week. There's nothing more exhilarating, more grounding, than feeling that way about another human being. I need to believe that we live in a magical universe where fantastic things really do happen; where someone amazing will storm into my life, and the romance will fall from the sky like rain.
And so I cancelled the third date. It was an awkward and sad conversation that stretched to 40 minutes, instead of the 10 minutes it should have taken. I felt so bad to disappoint a decent, gentle person who, on so many levels, is looking for exactly the same things I am. What's worse, they responded that they were beginning to feel butterflies for me. That really killed me. Lately I've been mostly on the receiving end of heartbreak, and this was a good reminder that it's just as terrible on the other end. My heart is just too fragile for dating, sometimes.
But I will lift up my chin, I will straighten my collar and tie, and I will head out onto the beautiful streets of London and live my life. Just the idea that someone amazing is waiting out there for me makes being single a lot easier. It makes everything a lot easier.
And so I wait.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
An Ode To Vancouver (at yet another departure)
I spent my last evening in Vancouver catching up with a dear old friend, Diana (something that appears to be becoming a bit of a tradition, as I also spent my last evening in the city in the fall with her before moving to London). It was nice to catch up; I like listening to her, and sharing my ideas with her; I value her friendship and her complete lack of judgement and pretension. She is going to be a lawyer, but she can also appreciate the beauty in a poem and a sunset. That is why we get along so well.
After our coffees (and buying a hip, red, vintage shoulder bag at True Value Vintage) I headed to Six Acres in Gastown for goodbye drinks with friends. I love that place a lot (exposed brick, airy windows facing Gastown’s lovely main square, great international beer list, cute hipster servers, menus bound in vintage children books, and dramatic readings of Doctor Seuse books playing in the restrooms). I love my friends too - gathering a group of a dozen lovely and loved people together in my favourite (former) hang-out warms the heart. It was a nice last night.
And as things go, the snow that has hounded me during the last couple weeks turned to rain yesterday, with balmy 6-degree weather finally melting away the feet(!) of snow that has handicapped this lovely (normally warm) city; pushing the white horror far, far back into the forgettable minds of disgruntled Vancouverites. I knew it would turn right, rightwhen I was leaving. But the snow made me spend time with family instead of friends; at home instead of at my island cabin or at the bar. That, retrospectively, was important. I love my grandparents and my parents and my sister very much, and I needed that time with them. That time won’t always be there.
And today, after driving through the fast decaying remains of snow drifts on the way to the airport, a promising brightness emerged in the sky. And - quite fittingly - the sun burst through the clouds as I was sitting on the tarmac at YVR, waiting to take off for New York City. Vancouver was returning to normal, right as I was returning to London.
Vancouver, you are a cheeky dame, and I love how you make me work for it. And I realize that I no longer have to say goodbye to your frosted mountains, blue waves, gentle beaches and glass towers, because a piece of me remains behind with them every time I leave, waiting to be reunited and made whole when life brings me back... home.
After our coffees (and buying a hip, red, vintage shoulder bag at True Value Vintage) I headed to Six Acres in Gastown for goodbye drinks with friends. I love that place a lot (exposed brick, airy windows facing Gastown’s lovely main square, great international beer list, cute hipster servers, menus bound in vintage children books, and dramatic readings of Doctor Seuse books playing in the restrooms). I love my friends too - gathering a group of a dozen lovely and loved people together in my favourite (former) hang-out warms the heart. It was a nice last night.
And as things go, the snow that has hounded me during the last couple weeks turned to rain yesterday, with balmy 6-degree weather finally melting away the feet(!) of snow that has handicapped this lovely (normally warm) city; pushing the white horror far, far back into the forgettable minds of disgruntled Vancouverites. I knew it would turn right, rightwhen I was leaving. But the snow made me spend time with family instead of friends; at home instead of at my island cabin or at the bar. That, retrospectively, was important. I love my grandparents and my parents and my sister very much, and I needed that time with them. That time won’t always be there.
And today, after driving through the fast decaying remains of snow drifts on the way to the airport, a promising brightness emerged in the sky. And - quite fittingly - the sun burst through the clouds as I was sitting on the tarmac at YVR, waiting to take off for New York City. Vancouver was returning to normal, right as I was returning to London.
Vancouver, you are a cheeky dame, and I love how you make me work for it. And I realize that I no longer have to say goodbye to your frosted mountains, blue waves, gentle beaches and glass towers, because a piece of me remains behind with them every time I leave, waiting to be reunited and made whole when life brings me back... home.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
I Still Love You Vancouver, and I'm Sorry
Vancouver, I still love you. I’m sorry I sometimes forget about all the good times we’ve had together. I’m sorry that I overlooked your beauty and charm; I’m sorry that I underestimated you. I still long for your beaches and forests and streets, despite the fact that I may be happier elsewhere for a time. I’m thankful for everything you have given me. You gave me wings, Vancouver: wings that have shown me the world, but allow me to fly back and visit. My love for you remains.
~
The snow has continued to fall throughout the rest of my holiday in Vancouver. I have gotten to do very little as a result, and the inconveniences don’t appear to be going anywhere. Today I woke up with a horribly violent flu that had me hallucinating and drifting in and out of consciousness. I was very thankful to have my Mother by my side, feeding me liquids and comfort (even if she was the one that passed on the bug to me in the first place).
I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed by life at the moment. I see so much “busy work” in the months ahead in London, and I’m not sure where it will all take me. I wish some things could be more certain, like what I want to do next year, and where I want to be. I have such a long list of things I want to do: read books, write books, make art, see art, travel, succeed with school, make new friends, find love, etc. I can’t do it all, and I wish I had more wisdom as to which areas I should be spending my time on.
I was talking with a friend about love and relationships the other night, and we are both so disenchanted and lost in this department. I find it hard to picture myself meeting anyone anytime soon, but the idea that there is someone out there who is absolutely amazing makes me smile. I want to believe there is someone amazing out there; I need to believe it.
Maybe in 2009 I will meet you? Maybe you are the face that I am picturing now? Or maybe you shall remain faceless, elusive. Either way, I have a feeling 2009 is going to be important for me. For better or for worse or for....
Thursday, January 1, 2009
A Year In Review
Happy New Year, everyone!
Cities I visited for the first time in 2008:
Valletta (Malta), Valencia (Spain), Porto (Portugal), Amsterdam (Netherlands), Istanbul (Turkey), Basel (Switzerland), Marrakech (Morocco), New Orleans (LA), Savannah (GA), Charleston (SC), Raleigh (NC), Montreal (QC), Toronto (ON), Ljubljana (Slovenia), Zagreb (Croatia), Dubrovnik (Croatia), Mostar (Bosnia), Sarajevo (Bosnia), Oxford (UK), Normandy (France), Sevilla (Spain), Belfast (Northern Ireland)
Cities I revisited in 2008:
Stockholm (Sweden), Paris (France), Cologne (Germany), London (UK), Seattle (WA), Portland (OR)
Favourite Books read in 2008:
Someday This Pain Will Be Useful To You (Peter Cameron), all the Harry Potter books
Favourite Bands discovered in 2008:
Chris Garneau, Cut Copy, Noah and the Whale, Slow Club, The Albertans, Two Gallants, Page France, Cloud Cult, Miracle Fortress, Final Fantasy
Best Shows attended in 2008:
Hot Chip, Miracle Fortress, Chris Garneau, Okkervil River, Micah P Hinson, Teitur, Tobias Froberg and Peter Moren, Born Ruffians
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