New Life on Lease.

Today was spent tying up loose ends with the former roommates and landlord. I followed through with my decision to stay in this crazy city for at least six months. I was shuffling through countless memories of this four bedroom kingdom up on the hill, hand shaking as I signed my name on the dotted line.

The parties, they mayhem, the constant celebration. It ended with several longstanding feuds, and I can only wonder if the one relationship will ever be repaired. I learned that an overwhelming amount of compassion can be lost when it comes to money.

I have no idea what to expect in the next six months. I can only trust that I will certainly find a direction.

And Then There Was One.

The Sensitive Artist and Starlet have moved out. And so ends an era.
The separation was, in no doubt, the best thing that could happen. It meant that the Starlet and her flame could move in together in the crystal ball version of marriage. It also meant that Missensitive could start the next chapter in her life a little earlier than anticipated.

I looked around at several apartments, entertained the idea of abandoning Calgary all together and considered six more months of purgatory. I went with the later.
I spent the better part of today sweeping, scrubbing, mopping, vacuuming, dusting, polishing and downsizing. I organized all of the mail addressed to former occupants, finished the invitations for the Club's private Vegas theme party, and took Mother's puppy for a stroll. I was meant to be locked up in boyfriend's apartment, but he was hit with the flu.


Between ignoring the sounds of the birds all day, and following around little puppy-pee-alot and responding to work emails, I decided to ventured into the room that used to house the Starlet; empty. I refocused, rounded the corner, down the stairs, 14 to the bottom, sharp left, through the laundry room, click the light on, adjusted the knot in my throat, held the railing and entered the basement.

There was absolutely no sign of the artist... the empty wine bottles, shelves and shelves of fabric, art books and stationary and the long black cable running across the shag carpet to the bedroom were gone. As if she had suddenly disappeared as well.

It's true that I haven't been left alone in this house that was once the "home" of two of my best friends, the blonde has decided to stay. Something that both terrifies me and makes me feel like the party isn't over. I don't have the same desire to be out every night until the sun comes up. I can't be bothered rushing from one lame night club to the next, flirting with strangers and jagermiester, slamming a red bull, inhaling thrills through twenties and dancing with every possible suitor in the room.

That die hard partier within me is on hiatus, and may be permanently.... I wonder when her number will be up?

All of a Sudden/Hello Vodka

It was last call, and then it was all of sudden after three o'clock. Jesus Christ, did I black out? "No sweetie, it's the start of daylight savings time," says the redheaded coworker, dressed as cowgirl, with a splash of vodka.
Being several margaritas, three beers and an inhale of two of the mysterious joint that appeared I was at the comfortable state of buzzed, but teetering. The work weekend was much more profitable than had been anticipated, and I was looking for a good time.
I barely recall the cab ride home, but stumbling into the kitchen I soon realized that the party was far from over.

Enter two drunk roommates and a very loud accomplice. Polish off a bottle of wine, and soon we were all doing shooters of Baileys; an entire 40 ouncer. I remember all of a sudden hearing the front door open and close. I started to shush the girls; my boyfriend had arrived.
He usually enters to find me asleep, the the rare occasion waiting up; but never in the midst of a kitchen dance party at five in the morning. To make matters even more interesting, he was sober; stone sober.

I had just wondered where this party monster in me went... and all of a sudden... out from hibernation he came. See you later sanity. Hello Vodka.

The Revival

There are many reasons I haven't been writing; but I am back now.

The Queen and I

I remember the first encounter I had with a drag queen, it was my very first time in a gay bar and I was in the washroom and in walked what appeared to be a woman wearing a lot of makeup. I remember thinking that maybe that is just the way it worked at gay bars. It really didn't hit me until this "woman" approached the urinal, unzipped and said "kinda fucks you up, huh?" that I realized it was a man in drag.

I now find myself surrounded by drag queens for the better part of any given weekend... and they aren't so scary after all.

The Apology.

Ryan wants a Sunday kind of love
Ryan is awaiting his special delivery..
Ryan is aged to perfection.
Ryan's punishments are consequences.... deal with it.
Ryan is at work with the mastermind..
Ryan is smoke free, and published again.
Ryan is experiencing technical difficulties, please stay tuned.
Ryan has watched the video of the pope getting knocked over about thirty times...

8 Facebook status updates and several short journal entries is all I wrote in regards to personal writing in over a month.
I began to feel nervous and somewhat guilty for abandoning this outlet, but I knew why it had happened.

I met Kyle; he made me smile- and still does.

I am choosing not to subject our relationship to my personal Roman coliseum--this blog.

I will however, continue to chronicle the craziness of my day to day.

Stay tuned..

...

I haven't been writing at all lately. My journal can't even look me in the eye, and I swear I can feel the computer keyboard glarring at me in my sleep. Sleep has been a stranger for a few weeks now, and the only familar face is red wine and marijuana.
I have been working a lot, and perhaps dating too much. I had narrowed it down to several bachelors; and now it's down to one. I've been losing sleep about having to tell the others I am letting go.
It's still not feeling like Christmas.