Ch-ch-changes

I quit my job. I am more than stoked about my $1,100+ in unused vacation pay.

I have just been informed that my new job "thinks" I am cleared and I should report to my new job on Monday morning at 8:30 00 AM.

I am SO EXCITED.

I am so happy and excited and thrilled to be leaving my job. It served its purpose - got me back into the workforce after my first MS attack and helped me keep Joe in school. But the ongoing challenges with having an elderly man as an employer were grating on my last nerve. I did my time for almost two years and now I'm moving on.

The only downside to my new job is that I'm only guaranteed work for a finite period of time. That means that I could be hunting for a job sooner rather than later. I'm hoping that this job will lead to further opportunities, but I can't bank on it.

I've updated my LinkedIn profile just in case. I'm squeamish about asking for recommendations or putting myself out there, but I guess you just gotta.

I fell asleep at 10 PM last night. As a result I have been up since just before 4 AM. The coolest thing about this morning is that I drank a cup of coffee and enjoyed it. It did not smell like barf to me. This is a fortuitous occasion as that doesn't happen very often.

To Eddie... with love.

Until Facebook, Frank and I exchanged semi-annual emails - usually in the new year and sometime between my birthday in July and his birthday in November.

I last time I saw him was a few years ago; he had been living in Korea for years and quite unexpectedly announced that he was moving to Vancouver. I saw him shortly after he arrived. He was OUTRAGED that he had been there an entire WEEK and had not secured a teaching position. He was worried about living off his savings and going broke in Vancouver.

He asked me when the sun would come out. I told him "Next summer."

We had lunch. We went for a walk. He complained loudly about how badly his last partner had treated him. He met my husband and expressed surprise at my settling down. We sat together on the sofa and talked about mutual acquaintances and "Do you remember the time..." all afternoon.

He said he had some interviews lined up and he would be in touch. A hug, a couple of air kisses and a "I love you, Pats." "Cheers. Thanks a lot. Love you too, Eddie." and he was gone.

The next time I heard from him was months later. He sent me a Facebook friend request. That's how I found out he had gone back to Korea.

"Sorry." he said.

It was kind of a last minute thing. The next time he came back to Canada he'd book a stopover in Vancouver. We'll have lunch. Go for a drink. Something.

He never did.

We kept in touch via Facebook. We posted smarmy messages on each other's walls. Over the past few years I watched him literally work his ass off.

"I AM THIN AND GORGEOUS!" was our rallying cry. He was getting to where he wanted to be. He had plans... and none of those plans led back to Canada. Of that he was sure.

He apologized to me for being such a crap friend while he was in Vancouver. I told him that I was okay, that I love him just for being him and no matter what I would always be there for him. He promised again to stop in Vancouver the next time he was coming to Canada to visit his family.

That's not going to happen now.

Three weeks ago Frank, my friend - probably my oldest friend, dropped dead at 38.

I have known him for 19 years - half his life and just over half of mine. He was my friend for my entire adult life. I am glad he is my friend. I wouldn't love many of the things I do without his influence. He was the Edina Monsoon to my Patsy Stone. My life has an empty space where my Eddie should be. I'm sorry he won't be here to see what we all amount to.

Lastly, I hope they can find him an urn that he would be caught dead in. Sometimes fabulous friends can be high maintenance even in death.

"But is it art, Eddie?"

I hope so.

I did not write this

This land like a mirror turns you inward
And you become a forest in a furtive lake;
The dark pines of your mind reach downward,
You dream in the green of your time,
Your memory is a row of sinking pines.

Explorer, you tell yourself this is not what you came for
Although it is good here, and green;
You had meant to move with a kind of largeness,
You had planned a heavy grace, an anguished dream.

But the dark pines of your mind dip deeper
And you are sinking, sinking, sleeper
In an elementary world;
There is something down there and you want it told.

— "Dark Pines Under Water," The Shadow Maker (1972)

Gwendolyn MacEwen


When you wrap up some of the most painful experiences of your life in memories of places you were both young & innocent and crazy & out of control and tie them together with a present desperation for change... you get reminded of Gwendolyn MacEwen poems a man you once loved read to you in the half light of a cold November Sunday morning.

Nostaligia

I want to punch my 24 year old self in the fucking head.

From here on in, when I hate myself now I am going to pull out one of these journals from pre-2003 and force myself to read what kind of bullshit I was thinking and living in.

I am also grateful that I have no real memories of this. Thanks for the cognitive issues, MS!

When you feel your life ain't worth living...

(I don't think this reggae beat is a good choice for this mashup.)

you've got to stand up, take a look around you then a look way up to the sky.

(What the hell is he trying to do?)

And when your deepest thoughts are broken,

(I get it... you love this song.)

keep on dreaming boy, cause when you stop dreamin' it's time to die.

(Boy is right. He won't give up those metaphoric green tights.)

And as we all play parts of tomorrow, some ways we'll work and other ways we'll play.

It's 3 AM. We're both wasted. Would you just turn off the music?

But I know we all can't stay here forever,

YOU AREN'T GOING TO GET ANY MIXING DONE AT THIS HOUR!

so I want to write my words on the face of today.

(Good. It's done.)

and then they'll paint it

(Dammit. No it's not.)

And oh as I fade away,

(Apparently if you aren't going to fade away, you aren't going to let me.)

they'll all look at me and say,

GO THE FUCK TO BED!

Hey look at him and where he is these days.

(I wish I could change my mind about you.)

When life is hard, you have to change.

Dance with me until the sun rise.

When life is hard, you have to change.

You know this is the beginning of the end, right?

When life is hard, you have to change.

Right.



Edit: Lyrics in bold are from "Change" by Blind Melon