Thursday, December 28, 2006
The Drive, The Smell, The Sweet Release
I am back at #206.
I woke up this morning and found Calgary ravaged by snow. I pressed my forehead against the cold, living room window and whispered 'shit' under my breath. Within minutes it was decided that my best bet was to head home today in case the blizzard conditions just got worse by tomorrow, and I packed my bags, said a hurried Happy Birthday to my brother, hugged my neices and started to drive home.
If I told you that is was trecherous driving conditions for what stretched into a 14 hour car drive, I wouldn't be exaggerating. Mountains, blizzards, ice, snow, steep hills and a multitude of cars and trucks in the ditch. I have never focused so hard in my life. When I paid my toll, the toll booth lady asked "far to go?". "Um, yeah," I replied, in a daze, "Vancouver." "Oh, my, " she replied, "where from?" "Calgary." I stated, simply, my brain hurting. "ALL BY YOURSELF?!" she shuddered in horror, "ARE YOU CRAZY?" She actual called me crazy. All I could say was 'Yup" and keep on driving.
But I got here. And I am alive. And I never want to do that again for as long as I live. Although, knowing me, I probably will.
Now, there is the being here. Home. This apartment. This fucking apartment that holds so much of my history that my senses go into overload when I walk in. I love it here and I hate it here. The first thing that hit me was the smell. It smelled like my breakup. Like despair. Like bug killing chemical. Like my neighbour's fish. Like every single night I spent this summer, lying on my bed terrified and alone and sick to my stomache with grief wanting to return to Pender. It doesn't help that other people have been living here and so there is a foreign energy in the place. My pictures are down, my clothes in suitcases, everything so clean it is sterile. I love this apartment and am very attached to it, but this isn't the first time I have wondered out loud if It is really the healthiest thing for me to continue to live here. Perhaps this is why the universe keeps opening up job opportunities out of the city - to get me out of #206. Ah, that is sad. I am sure much of what I am feeling is due to my numb state from driving. I will sleep in my own bed tonight and then see how I feel tomorrow.
The next two weeks are going to be HUGE for me. Solidification of all things teetering ending in a flight to Europe. I will keep you posted. Right now, I think I need to just get into a hot bath and cry. Release all this pent up driving anxiety, ease the howling ghosts and the nervous anticipation. Yes, that is a good idea. Like they sang on one of my favorite childhood albums Free To Be, You and Me -
It's alright to cry. Crying gets the sad out of us.
Welcome Home KJ.
I woke up this morning and found Calgary ravaged by snow. I pressed my forehead against the cold, living room window and whispered 'shit' under my breath. Within minutes it was decided that my best bet was to head home today in case the blizzard conditions just got worse by tomorrow, and I packed my bags, said a hurried Happy Birthday to my brother, hugged my neices and started to drive home.
If I told you that is was trecherous driving conditions for what stretched into a 14 hour car drive, I wouldn't be exaggerating. Mountains, blizzards, ice, snow, steep hills and a multitude of cars and trucks in the ditch. I have never focused so hard in my life. When I paid my toll, the toll booth lady asked "far to go?". "Um, yeah," I replied, in a daze, "Vancouver." "Oh, my, " she replied, "where from?" "Calgary." I stated, simply, my brain hurting. "ALL BY YOURSELF?!" she shuddered in horror, "ARE YOU CRAZY?" She actual called me crazy. All I could say was 'Yup" and keep on driving.
But I got here. And I am alive. And I never want to do that again for as long as I live. Although, knowing me, I probably will.
Now, there is the being here. Home. This apartment. This fucking apartment that holds so much of my history that my senses go into overload when I walk in. I love it here and I hate it here. The first thing that hit me was the smell. It smelled like my breakup. Like despair. Like bug killing chemical. Like my neighbour's fish. Like every single night I spent this summer, lying on my bed terrified and alone and sick to my stomache with grief wanting to return to Pender. It doesn't help that other people have been living here and so there is a foreign energy in the place. My pictures are down, my clothes in suitcases, everything so clean it is sterile. I love this apartment and am very attached to it, but this isn't the first time I have wondered out loud if It is really the healthiest thing for me to continue to live here. Perhaps this is why the universe keeps opening up job opportunities out of the city - to get me out of #206. Ah, that is sad. I am sure much of what I am feeling is due to my numb state from driving. I will sleep in my own bed tonight and then see how I feel tomorrow.
The next two weeks are going to be HUGE for me. Solidification of all things teetering ending in a flight to Europe. I will keep you posted. Right now, I think I need to just get into a hot bath and cry. Release all this pent up driving anxiety, ease the howling ghosts and the nervous anticipation. Yes, that is a good idea. Like they sang on one of my favorite childhood albums Free To Be, You and Me -
It's alright to cry. Crying gets the sad out of us.
Welcome Home KJ.
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