Sometimes I wonder: would he forget I exist if I didn't remind him occasionally?

Deja blog?

I'm having blog deja vu for about the fourth time. I keep getting the feeling that not only did I write about a similar thing before, I used the same sentences and ideas.... now I've combed back through things and I don't think I have duplicated too much (aside from my musings on home-sickness and missing certain individuals which are recurrent; and I guess I have talked a couple times about being too busy to do all the things I need/would like to do).

But man! Do I ever feel like I wrote some of this before....

Damn, no cloning

Alright already people. No one is allowed to plan another event for October the 7th. The first show of my theatre's season opens that night. I would be at the theatre for this under most circumstances regardless of whether or not I worked here... I love opening nights. And I work here. So I have no choice.

BUT:
Two of my favorite performers in existence are playing that night at exactly the same time. Together. This is the musical equivalent of orgasm in my world and I CAN'T GO.

Then on top of that: two of my favorite people - who I also kinda appreciate as performers ;-) - have decided to play some songs together at a pub that is my home away from home. This is a night I wouldn't miss for the world...under normal circumstances.... sigh.

So - NO MORE! Because even if I could clone myself...I'm greedy and I want the me that is me to have all these nights. Why oh why do they have to be on the same night??

she's going home...

Well, she's going to my home. My childhood home. I'm a little jealous.

My friend Jess is heading east. Waaaay east (though not quite all the way). But she will be breathing the salt air and listening to the waves on my ocean. She will feel the deck of a boat as it sways under her feet. She will see and hear the sails unfurl (teehee) as the Bluenose heads out of port. She will see the vibrant red of the first autumn leaves. She will partake of fresh fish and even fresher beer at the Lower Deck, listening to authentic East Coast tunes (do a jig for me).

I'm a little jealous. And also a bit wistful. And I wish I could see her face when some of this stuff happens - I love seeing people as they see my ocean for the first time (or at least the first time from that side). And I think her eyes will shine pretty and bright (for many reasons - say hi to that one for me).

on a dime

Sometimes it amazes me how one sentence can turn my emotions completely around.

I was thinking he was pretty cool.... I was thinking.... but then that one sentence. One blatantly intolerant statement.

No. He's not cool. He's not cool at all.

It's funny that in spite of the time that's passed, the distance, the many things that have happened, water under bridges and distractions all over the place.... once in awhile, the only person in the entire world I want to see is him.

in my dreams...

Last night I dreamt that a very attractive blonde man took me to Puerto Rico to visit my best friend. As a birthday present.

Some dreams are better than others.

oddly political

I realized while driving home from the festival in a ghost town that I had been completely oblivious to what day had just passed. In my pleasant, music filled isolation I had simply forgotten. We stopped for supper on the way home and happened to see a paper with all the references to the anniversary and I realized I had missed it entirely. One article spoke of the fact that people in Toronto were angry that there was no public memorial or marking of the occasion...in Toronto.

Now before anyone freaks out at me or anything please let me say that I think what happened in New York on September 11th was a truly horrible thing. And I feel much sympathy for those impacted by it.

But do we really need to re-live it year after year with memorials and speeches and fear mongering? We do less for our war veterans for crying out loud.

Every day at least as many people die in countries all over the world from disease and hunger.
EVERY DAY.
Every day hundreds, probably thousands of people die in wars waged around the world.
EVERY DAY.

I know that it is important to remember people we have lost. I understand the need to commemorate such events. I am sorry for everyone who may have lost someone close to them on that day...or on any day for that matter. I just don't know if having giant memorials and stirring up "publicity" for the US' "anti-terrorism" efforts really accomplishes what those people need or if it's just an excuse to dredge up fear and stir the pot .

Either way I think every year from now on, I am going to go camping in a ghost town to commemorate my Septemeber 11th.

I don't know what to say

It was great!

It seems much too small a statement really. And yet to tell all would require hours (days maybe?) and I'm afraid it loses some of it's excitement if I tell the story too many times... some things just lose their lustre when they are verbalized.

And besides, it might be hard to explain:
- how staying to dismantle a stage made a really good weekend seem perfect;
- how the train seeming to come through your tent in the middle of the night could seem so funny;
- why the fact that those coulees and hoodoos beside the stage are actually a disc golf course was an intensely exciting discovery (ok maybe that's easier to explain);
- how wonderful the back rubs were, giving or receiving;
- how only one man could carry off those checkered pants the way Kris can;
- how an odd steak cooked on a pitchfork can seem like a good idea (not to mention quart jars of beer);
or just how hilarious the air band was after a few swigs of Jim Beam ...although I think it would have been hilarious under any circumstances - air band is just funny. Especially when performed by extremely accomplished musicians.

It's easy to say the music was great, the company wonderful and the weekend was, yes, fabulous. But the specifics and the stories are already becoming abstract and long winded and I need to smell the scent of stale woodsmoke in my sweater to remind myself that I was actually there.

It's one of those things that you can never truly explain. "You had to be there" sounds condescending and cliche but really....