She bought me these boxer briefs. Calvin Klein, body cut, lightweight cotton construction.

Until then, all the underwear I had were plaid XS boxers from The Gap that I could only find online, or XXL from Gap Kids, decorated with rockets, and basketballs, and skiers. I didn’t think she’d find anything else that would work on my small frame.

So this is my first pair of boxer briefs, and they fit. My sexy underwear, she would call them. I guess it’s hard to find my other underwear sexy when it’s meant for those 7–14.

 

Sunday pot luck brunch was a little different this weekend; instead of heading to Tim’s, I was at Pat and Jen’s. It was collection time for a sit-up competition (where Julie destroyed everyone in both the largest total sit-ups and most improved over the last two months, winning $60), and we decided to get together to see how everyone was feeling, perhaps compare a six-pack or two.

There were homemade waffles, fresh fruit, honey bacon, French toast, pigs in blankets, smoothies, croissants, and cheesecake. So much delicious food that I could eat, now that I’m on medication to control food induced flare-ups, and I happily gorged myself.

It was such a lazy Sunday. Long conversations sitting around the table, then hanging out and playing games for hours while the food digested.

Pat later told me he used to come here and read about what’s happening with me, but has stopped reading altogether. The reason — and he paused as he was telling me this so that I understood the gravity of it — was that he would rather hear things from me personally.

While this is far from the first time I’ve written about my friendship with him, it still amazes me. We rarely get any one-on-one time, even when I’m over at his house on the weekends for food and conversation, unless it’s on the phone.

Pat always takes such a concern about what’s going on in my life. He asks all the right questions. He listens wholeheartedly without interrupting. He never judges me. He calms me because everything he says makes so much sense. Just being able to open up, where I’m vulnerable, and have him completely accept what I’m saying makes me overflow with emotion.

I think I’m going through a period where I’m not getting enough social interaction. My friends are too busy, or our schedules don’t work out. It’s left me confused and disillusioned.

Everyone seems to fit somewhere, but I’m not sure where that leaves me. On days like this, when I’m surrounded by people, it makes me think that perhaps I still don’t know where I belong.

Sometimes, I wonder whether it’s me or this city that’s changed more.

I took this photo of myself recently for the updated photography section. The touch of grey along the sides of my hair came as something as a surprise. I never get a good look at the sides of my head, and my friends never mention this chronological landmark. I suppose I’ve been going grey since I was in my late teens, never noticing how far it’s come along until now.

I tell people I didn’t feel old until I turned 27. It’s that age where you’re closer to 30 than to 25, the difference between a “young adult” and an “adult”. More of a milestone than the step that 28 is.

It seems like every time I talk about being in university, or at my current job, or how long I’ve known John, I keep adding another year. An incremental reminder that I’m getting older.

Although it didn’t quite feel like it this year.

Playing around with black-and-white, an off-camera flash, and a nice Cuban cigar.

Sometimes, enjoying life is as simple as this.

Go outside. Right now.

It’s dark. It’s cool. It’s breezy. Grass has replaced the snow. Walking downtown, the smell of shawarma from every Lebanese restaurant, the people shedding their coats, the surfacing skin, it’s as if the world is blooming while the sun has set.

All I want is for you to be here with me. To share this moment with you.

It’s a pity to be alone on nights like this.

I finally got some new glasses. It’s been years since I had my prescription updated and things in the distance were starting to get blurry, making my eyes tired very early in the day. This time I got a wire-frame pair, instead of the thick emo frames I got last year, though they’re still D&G.

The wide arms are in now, but I really don’t like that style (or maybe it just doesn’t fit my face). I also tend to not buy anything that’s currently fashionable, as I prefer classic designs. The wide wire-frame arms on this pair push the whole idea of trendy, but are otherwise acceptable.

I’m still getting used to the weight. They’re very light, but still not as light as my last commonly worn pair, which were like not wearing glasses at all. The good thing, I’ve come to discover, is that they’re not flexible, and while this makes them more fragile, they’re much easier to clean as they don’t bend when trying to hold steady.

Some people ask me why I don’t get contacts, and it’s because glasses are a part of my personality. In a way, they define me, staying in touch with my dorky past. At the wedding Tom asked me to take them off for the pictures since they turn photo grey from UV light, but I refused. I think I would have looked stranger without my glasses, then with my eyes obscured by tint.

Choosing these frames took a couple of visits. I had a hard time trusting Bronwen’s opinion because sometimes she thinks I look good in things that make me either laugh or hurl. I went to Lenscrafters with Aaron and he tried on one pair that immediately made me think that’s the one, but I didn’t have that instantly recognition with mine. Louise did though when I showed her, and that’s when I decided on them. Apparently they make me look more mature, or some shit.

I’m a thinker, not a writer, a critic, not an artist, and I cannot, for the life of me, grow a beard.

Got a new pair of specs. I wanted either thicker rims, for a bolder look, or handles screwed into the glass without rims, for an even simpler look than what I have now. After trying on both styles, I decided on the thicker rims. Since these aren’t titanium, they’re several times heavier than my old pair, so I keep the old pair around for when I’m relaxing or doing sports. The funny thing is that this is one of the least expensive pairs of glasses I’ve ever purchased, yet they’re D&G made.

Hee hee.