It's been a while...somethings have changed.

I have been home from my whirlwind tour de force for almost a week, and have just found the time to sit down and reflect.
I am still in shock that I managed to pull off each and every date that I had planned, and even added a few extra visits. I developed a pretty intense cold/flu during the first twenty-four hours of my Ontario experience, but with the help of lemons, oil of oregano and ginger tea I successfully defeated the infection... it required that I take a few days to relax, which led to several afternoons of daydreaming, interviews, and a sincere goodbye.

Upon reviewing the week back "home" I realized how much of an emotional high it really turned out to be.
Between giving Holly away during what has to be one the most beautiful wedding ceremonies ever witnessed and deciding last minute to return to Calgary so many things happened.
I spent time in Hamilton, Cambridge, Guelph, Mount Brydges , Strathroy, London, Stratford (twice), Bayfield, Goderich and London. I had two flights, a train ride, several taxi trips and countless car rides with faces new and old. I woke up countless times wondering what town or city I was in, where the bathroom was and how many more days I had left. It was like I was in a race against time, and had so much to do, so many people to see and so many conversational updates to experience.

I saw some friends and family that I hadn't seen in several years, I saw a face that, at one point this year I was certain I would never see again, and also met someone for the first time, sorta. I am tired of the ridiculous nicknames for the sake of hiding identities, but don't want to gratuitously incriminate him either. It was strange to finally meet him and still feel like he was an old friend from highschool.... rare are those instances.

My last night home was when I made the decision that I was not going to extend the tour to relax. I woke up Friday morning and hitched a ride to Stratford in a bitchin' Subaru with a fucking awesome feminist who led me into some amazing conversations. I waited around that quaint little city for a few hours, had some breakfast, some coffee and got on the next train to London. I managed to get onto the standby list for the one and only flight back to Cowtown, and felt exhausted.

Right after my plane landed the parental units whisked me from the arrivals gate, back to my place and then downtown so I could make it to a friend's going away party. The party was a mixture of emotions, sadly, judging from the looks on most faces there, none of them seemed authentic... another room full of closet cocaine fiends. I often wonder about that drug. Why are these people ok with doing a drug they have to hide? I could never imagine excusing myself to the washroom to smoke a joint, unless I was at church, and even that's pushing out. Watching the door of the VIP room swing open to reveal a stumbling, sniffing and snorting version of a friend is terrifying.

I have been looking for a new job since my return to this oddly warm and sunny city, and feeling pretty good about most of the leads so far.

The kid left today. We said our goodbyes at the train station, as it is par for the course. It was hurried, but not painfully so. Somewhere in the realm of reality it seemed that it served as the bandage ripping away experience for both of us.
I am apprehensive as to how I really feel about the aftermath. But there are so many other things to be paying attention to... including the laundry still in my suitcase.