Not The Weekend
Hi there. It's been a bit longer than expected, hasn't it?
I've been up here a month now (I guess technically the fourth is tomorrow, but I've been here four and a half weeks. I've accumulated a ton of extra hours (over and above my expected ten hour days) and the person I was supposed to accompany into the bush today called in sick, so I was given a half-day. I came home and slept; I haven't slept well the last few nights and I really needed the rest. Now I'm prepping pizza dough for the next couple days, grilling a steak for dinner (to go with my korean potatoes and sprouts that I made last night and a nice greens'n'weeds salad), and listening to music in this space for the first time since my housemate is away for the evening.
http://r3.ca/4bLb Please escort me/To the end/ Of this tome/Please destroy me/And discard me...
I'm feeling bittersweet lonely, and I'm thinking about people I haven't talked to in awhile. Specifically I'm thinking about Michael -- this music always makes me think of him, as does any mention of Williams Lake -- and I'm feeling that sensation of the past being so out of reach, feeling so garbled and distant, like a movie watched when half-asleep in a foreign language. All those steps in my life to which I was so intimately tied led me here but in doing so they have altered me so those times are beyond my reach now.
I guess that's a long way of repackaging the cliche that you can never go back. You're always arriving as a different person, to a place that's changed.
Sometimes those places still love you like home. Sometimes they don't.
Maybe this music always makes me feel like this. http://r3.ca/1u22
I'm getting better moving through the bush. I'm feeling less useless at work. With this comes the crop of issues learning to get along in the company, to work with different personalities and positions. It's a little chaotic, there's not enough scheduling to make everything run really efficiently there. The people who work there have pretty diverse personalities. I think I made the right choice, both for career and for place to be this summer, but it's not entirely easy.
I'm homesick this week, last weekend I felt too far away from you to even write.
There are things I'm really enjoying. I changed supper plans and harvested the first cucumber from the greenhouse to make my salad. I have time to cook and I haven't eaten at a restaurant (except for a milkshake with Dave) since I got here. I saw the most beautiful landscape the other day at work, walked through it actually, all blueberries and Ribes and "balsam" and Lycopodium. I keep anticipating swimming in the lake, though I haven't gone yet since it's always cooled down by the time I get home. I love the curve of the mountains. Things keep blooming like crazy. People are so friendly. My housemate is wonderful.
I miss human touch. I miss sex. I miss my stuff. I miss yoga. I miss pho and sushi. I miss the ocean, and cedar trees, and trees of reasonable size. I miss green fields.
I miss my people.
I especially miss Dave.
I miss having a home.
But here I am, and it's not so bad. I'll just be settled in before I'm gone again.
Lots of love.
I've been up here a month now (I guess technically the fourth is tomorrow, but I've been here four and a half weeks. I've accumulated a ton of extra hours (over and above my expected ten hour days) and the person I was supposed to accompany into the bush today called in sick, so I was given a half-day. I came home and slept; I haven't slept well the last few nights and I really needed the rest. Now I'm prepping pizza dough for the next couple days, grilling a steak for dinner (to go with my korean potatoes and sprouts that I made last night and a nice greens'n'weeds salad), and listening to music in this space for the first time since my housemate is away for the evening.
http://r3.ca/4bLb Please escort me/To the end/ Of this tome/Please destroy me/And discard me...
I'm feeling bittersweet lonely, and I'm thinking about people I haven't talked to in awhile. Specifically I'm thinking about Michael -- this music always makes me think of him, as does any mention of Williams Lake -- and I'm feeling that sensation of the past being so out of reach, feeling so garbled and distant, like a movie watched when half-asleep in a foreign language. All those steps in my life to which I was so intimately tied led me here but in doing so they have altered me so those times are beyond my reach now.
I guess that's a long way of repackaging the cliche that you can never go back. You're always arriving as a different person, to a place that's changed.
Sometimes those places still love you like home. Sometimes they don't.
Maybe this music always makes me feel like this. http://r3.ca/1u22
I'm getting better moving through the bush. I'm feeling less useless at work. With this comes the crop of issues learning to get along in the company, to work with different personalities and positions. It's a little chaotic, there's not enough scheduling to make everything run really efficiently there. The people who work there have pretty diverse personalities. I think I made the right choice, both for career and for place to be this summer, but it's not entirely easy.
I'm homesick this week, last weekend I felt too far away from you to even write.
There are things I'm really enjoying. I changed supper plans and harvested the first cucumber from the greenhouse to make my salad. I have time to cook and I haven't eaten at a restaurant (except for a milkshake with Dave) since I got here. I saw the most beautiful landscape the other day at work, walked through it actually, all blueberries and Ribes and "balsam" and Lycopodium. I keep anticipating swimming in the lake, though I haven't gone yet since it's always cooled down by the time I get home. I love the curve of the mountains. Things keep blooming like crazy. People are so friendly. My housemate is wonderful.
I miss human touch. I miss sex. I miss my stuff. I miss yoga. I miss pho and sushi. I miss the ocean, and cedar trees, and trees of reasonable size. I miss green fields.
I miss my people.
I especially miss Dave.
I miss having a home.
But here I am, and it's not so bad. I'll just be settled in before I'm gone again.
Lots of love.