Monthly Archives: September 2013

slow plays and hybrid strains

Darren stopped by for a stay on the way to Montreal for his first multi-day holdem tournament. The first and last nights ended up being the only ones we had to ourselves. Otherwise, it was a mix of friends and strangers, sativas and incidas, coming and going through the house each day. I’m glad he was along for the ride, even though I’m always up far too late when we’re together, and it’s getting harder on my body as I get older.

Theros draft

Theros draft at my place on release day. I walked away with 1st, but it was off a missed rules call (by me) in my match against Shawn, one that would have made a significant difference on the tiebreaker. I’ll always remember the night I won Xenagos and a Thoughtseize (which covers both my entry fee along with Darren’s), but the victory will forever be tainted.

It’s feels like I’m a different person, living a different life, every time we hang out. The distance between us means the change we experience is always significant enough to notice. This time my relationships have changed the most cause I’ve started compartmentalizing people, appreciating them for their strengths instead of expecting everyone to live up to some lofty set of expectations. My needs have always been the same, but I’m getting better at making sure they’re met after finally figuring out what they are. I’m also better at reading people, detecting undertone, and understanding social interactions, thanks to Shawn’s expertise rubbing off on me.

In terms of self-improvement, I’m trying to be more understanding of the world at large, while reducing my hate and increasing my patience. I’ve also started to analyze and resolve the triggers that keep me from being the person I was meant to be. The struggles I used to have only a few years ago seem so adolescent in comparison to the things I’m working on now. My priorities have matured, or I’ve grown in ways that have made old issues obsolete.

I’d never have realized any of this if Darren hadn’t showed up to pull me so far out of my regular life that I lost track of what day it was and the women I’d loved and the feeling of cold. I learn as much about myself as I do about him when we’re catching up.

moment by moment by moment

It’s turned into a month of improvisation. Even my regular events are being rescheduled, so I’ve lost the only anchors I have to a normal week. It’s hard to make plans when I don’t know how I’ll feel from one day to the next. Harder when I don’t know the next chance I’ll have to spend with the people who love me the way I need to be loved. I can tell it’s been too long when I start to dwell on my insecurities, and the days feel more and more heavy.

I’m letting this period be a way for me to ease away from alternating between iso­la­tion and anxious clinging. Being busy is forcing me to pay attention to the current moment. To be present with the person I’m with, but more importantly, with myself. Otherwise, I can’t handle the thought of how much stimulation I’m facing.

cat in slippers

Slippers, because she needs to find ways to be more comfortable in her day-to-day life.

Dolly’s been sleeping on my duvet again, an old habit of hers. It’s a sign that fall is here, as she prefers to swaddle in the dark when it gets too cold by the window. She also recently decided to start sleeping on my pillow1, and I can feel her purring through my skull, a new and unexpected development in our relationship. I love the fact that I’m still learning things about her, that she’s still capable of change as she approaches a decade with me. As always, I have the fall to thank.

backyard garden

A lot of progressive trance has been in the mix during all this upheaval. It’s a genre I’ve never purposely explored until recently. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make my own covers interesting by adding lots of dynamic elements and making sure phrases aren’t used too often. These DJs do the exact opposite with lots of repetition and minimal elements, yet somehow make each song a journey in itself. It’s a pleasant puzzle to try to solve. Now I have many new addictions that have been perfect for night time rides and counting yellow highway lines.

I wonder if these songs will end up reminding me of a time I’m constantly being broken down so I can heal properly. The old ones don’t mean the same thing anymore.

  1. Although I can’t figure out how she fits on it by herself to begin with. []

diner

Sometimes we go people-watching at the Elgin Street Diner at two in the morning. Not just cause it’s one of the only places still open, but because it tends to be too busy before then. It’s hard to point someone out or steal a glance without being noticed when the tables are all occupied.

We try to figure out relationships from the way people sit, stories from the state of their shoes. Mostly it’s young drunks, trying to settle their stomachs with some grease before heading home. Frat boys from the bars, clusters of girls in tight dresses from the clubs. The ones who’ve had too much are easy to spot: when they aren’t making a beeline to the bathroom, they’re staring at their plates, wondering how much warning they’ll need for the next run.

But every so often is an enigma, like four men in cargo shorts who aren’t young enough to be single, but not old enough to be divorced. The corporate logos on their golf shirts belie the no-upkeep, don’t-care-anymore look that comes with fatherhood. It’s a breed rarely seen out beyond nine on a Thursday night, and one that looks especially out of place at a time when the only cars on the road are taxis and cruisers.

I don’t judge, but I sure do wonder.

Elgin Street Diner

This is our way of escaping the regular lives we lead, before catching up on enough sleep to beat morning rush-hour on the way home, and back to another day of reality. No one told us about the roles we had to play as adults, or the responsibilities that come with it. To combat signs of aging, share onion-bacon poutine, chocolate-banana milkshakes, and a slice of peanut-butter cake every now and then. Just an hour here is plenty, as long as it’s done on a regular basis.

When we’re fending off exhaustion to spend one more moment in each other’s company, sharing food we shouldn’t eat and words we shouldn’t say, I know I’m the only one she wants to be with there. It’s more proof to me than the things she writes and the rituals we share. So many people take that kind of unspoken faith for granted, but it’s still new to me, and I’m learning how much I need to be special to someone.