Just Now

For one sweet moment the city didn't exist
I was standing out in my yard, in the darkness, and I couldn't hear one car, one person, one thing
besides the wind.

At first I thought that I was getting a little ahead of myself when I started to pack about a week or so ago. After all, I'm technically moving November 1st and it seems a little ridiculous to pack your home away and live amongst boxes for eight weeks.
But that was before.

This morning I started going through the storage space into which I throw all of my random junk that gets used once or twice a year...jesus. Have you ever lived on your own and had to move somewhere with less storage space? Sorting out the things to keep and get rid of is ridiculous, annoying...exhausting. It's also pretty interesting to see what you've accumulated in all the time you've spent in your current place. Now it's at the point where I'm realizing that I have to get rid of MOST things. And MOST of these things are shit to me anyway. So here I am, with a living room full of bags and boxes that need to be taken to the Sally Ann, recycled or just tossed in the garbage. And I'm still wondering if I'm getting rid of enough.
This will surely take until I move.

I have to stop collecting things.

I woke up close to noon, spooning Lemmy who pretty much goes by the rule that he'll sleep as late as I sleep (or later). I heard Sean rise and start making his usual breakfast, although today he was swearing and yelling at everything he was doing...which made me think that it was one of those mornings where everything falls over and spills and burns. I decided to lay in bed a bit longer.
Turned on the computer, checked my email... received a letter of acceptance from Langara. Hahaha...sometimes I wonder if anyone is ever properly turned down from the University Transfer program? It seems impossible. Did they even need to see my Selkirk transcript?

I finally slipped out from underneath the covers and went to make coffee and wash my face. The muffins that I wanted for breakfast went moldy. Time to buy tupperware instead of covering all my baking in a plastic bag.
I heard Tara yelling at me from outside...I have mail. Best guess is bills, 'cause what else would I be getting...except a letter from my friend Andrew! Andrew lives in Toronto and is currently going to school at UofT (I think) writing his thesis in microfinance. I met him online. And you know, I've met a good handful of quality people on the internets - one being my best friend in the whole entire world, Evan. (I kinda want to say 'one of my best friends' which would be true because I have a few but you know what I mean.)
But anyway, I'm talking Friendster, you guys! The things it was capable of, some people will never know. However, the funny and somewhat embarrassing thing about how I met Andrew is that we met on Purerave. Pure Rave. A social networking site for ravers or people in the 'underground culture'. I think I joined the site in grade ten; I wanted to meet other people who danced 'til the sun came up and wore weird (totally retarded) clothing, and all loved one another or some such stupid shit like that. It was like an earlier version of Friendster, and more 'exclusive' - as if raving was exclusive at the time. It's funny to think about the two guys I met, Andrew and Mike...because they weren't ravers like I was a raver. They were just normal dudes who went to parties sometimes as far as I could tell. They didn't wear phat pants and Mike loved Zepplin. So, I guess didn't really meet ravers like I was planning and you know, I could talking about this for ages, but I'll save it for a later date. Anyway:

I poured cream in my coffee, grabbed the mail and came straight back to bed. Now I'm sitting here sipping and reading Andrew's letter and starting my day pretty well & relaxing.

Three Changes.

1. I applied at Langara College just now.
2. I'm moving to 12th & Fraser - in a house with Leila!
3. I'm quitting my job (although I haven't given notice yet).

Sounds

Sometimes, there is not a more pleasant sound than the clinking of a spoon against the inner wall of a mug.
Stirring the sugar and the milk.

New Air

So I got the phonecall from Tara on Tuesday afternoon. House had sold. We had two months notice.
I of course started to cry and tried to hide it from her. I couldn't stand for her to laugh at me at that point..(or maybe it was in fear that I would laugh, too) so I kept silent with my hand over my face.

I thought the man wasn't going to buy it for sure. Johnny had even just bought his Harley and it was covered all up nice in the back yard. You'd kinda think as people get more settled and more settled, collecting of the stuff they really want, means they won't be having to find someplace else to fit the mould.
Ah, so it goes.
It's funny 'cause twenty minutes later I got a voice mail from Leila offering her place up for November. Just like that, without her knowing the current circumstances.

So last night I took a bottle of wine over to her place and we discussed (paint colours, furniture, plants) and sipped and there was some Them on the stereo and a bit of fiddling with the dimmers and light switches. Leila did her hair with three different appliances and I put some lipstick on.
We exited to the back alley in direction of the Anza - not an unusual thing to be doing on a Wednesday night, except now we'll be leaving from the same back door instead of meeting up at said destination.

I ended getting home around one or so to Tara, Johnny, Kevin and Derek having drinks upstairs. Talking shit 'til four.....
I'm gonna miss them tons. A tiny neighbourhood being dispelled.