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Today is Casey’s birthday. Well, it’s really only his birthday for another hour, but today Casey-boy turned four-years-old. I’ve only known the little monkey since just after his third birthday, but in that short time he’s cuddled and chased his way into my heart, just as his brothers and sister have done.

Yesterday I packed up the car with my own stuff, with dog food, leashes, collars and a doggy bed, along with two dogs and my own pretty self. For the first time since Christmas, I have a nice stretch of days off of work, so I brought the troops to the Island to have some relaxing time at my mom’s place. Benji and Casey haven’t spent a lot of time on ferries, but we had a great trip nonetheless. In between walks around the truck deck and watching episodes of “Rescue Me” on the portable DVD player, there was plenty of time for snuggles. The only snag is that the boys understand the concepts of packing and of going somewhere, but they certainly couldn’t grasp the fact that not only were they going with me (as opposed to being left at Nana and Papa’s), but they were going on a fun, relaxing holiday in the country.

Since arriving last night just before nine, it’s been just that. The boys have had oodles of time and space to run around on the cool, green grass and there are more than enough sticks around for Casey to…shake a stick at (pun sort of intended). One of Benji’s favourite things to do when he’s playing on grass is rolling around on his back. Unfortunately, he rolled around right into a slippery, sticky slug trail, so a little bit of a wipe-down was necessary.

This has also been great for me. I woke up at an unnatural hour (unnatural for holiday time, anyways) to get to an energy yoga class at a the Kingfisher Spa & Resort on the beach, followed by a seascape manicure. I have long enjoyed the stretching and relaxation that comes with the practice of yoga, because for someone with a chronic sore back, it always feels great. My favourite part of the practice is, without a doubt, Shavasana, the concluding portion of the practice in which total relaxation is induced. Today, like most times, I fell asleep during these ten minutes. This time, however, I started snoring in the middle of class. It’s true. I’m a class act.

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Surprisingly enough, with a title like that, this post isn’t about me. I woke up today with a migraine. I am thankful that it is only my second major one this year - we’re down quite a few from the last two spring seasons. However, when one strikes, all I want to do is shut the curtains and put a cold, damp cloth over my pulsing eyes. That was the plan until someone knocked on the door this morning at 8:45 a.m. Someone forgot to mention that final restortions were slated to be done this week in the apartment, and it’s today of all days, of course.

So much for my day in silence and in darkness in bed. Not only were the crew rather intrusive in a day I’d rather they not be there, everything save for the couch and the computer were covered in plastic sheeting. It was noisy and busy and jam-packed with tools, equipment and five crew members. So instead of staying in all day, I did manage to take the boys outside for a while to get them some fresh air and construction-free playtime. The photo below spells out exactly what this place looked like for seven hours today…more pics are on Flickr.

But let’s look at the upside to this, shall we? Moving the couch away from the wall allowed me to clean up a certain undiscovered, crusty mess left behind when two particular puppies were sick a few weeks ago. Lovely indeed.

There is, however, some light at the end of the tunnel. After a short-lived search for Season 2 of Rescue Me on DVD, I managed to locate it at the Rogers Video at Broadway and Arbutus. It’s funny how it took me almost five days to think outside the box and consider the possibility of a video store outside of the downtown core. That just goes to show you, in exemplary terms, how narrow-minded downtown living can be.

Speaking of Rescue Me, I won’t lie…when I passed the firehall at Haro and Thurlow this evening and saw a firetruck parked outside with the firefighters’ boots lined up along side of it, I got a little excited - giddy even. And for those of you that know me, I’m very normally not about men in uniform or men with accents.

P.S. I’ll be on the Island in a week…I can hear the chorus of heaven now.

I want it all to come back.

I haven’t felt this alone since yesterday. I’m not sure who is beside me. I’m not sure who is behind me. I pay far too much attention to those that don’t show me love. I pay far too little attention to those that do show me love. I have given more than I have in me. My warmth has blown away in the dusk’s breeze and I’ve been cold for far too long. There are only two good things in each day; both are covered in fur and hug me with four paws each instead of two arms. I spilled chow mein on the floor today. I spilled from the mouth at my frustration. I hate the sunshine that’s outside waiting for me. Last year and next year are near equidistant to each other. Sometimes I can’t wait and want to move my timeline forward in the bat of my eyelashes. Sometimes I can’t bear the thought of what lies ahead and want to trip backwards. I am restless and I make no sense.

One year ago today, my toes dipped into the frigid waters off Chesterman Beach, but I didn’t care much that it was so cold. In fact, it was refreshing and somewhat of a baptism. Earlier that day, I started the engine on my truck, filled the tank with fuel and headed west on Highway 4. I curved around the highway through Cathedral Grove, listened to Rock 101 as it fizzled in and out through the mountains, I laughed, I smiled, I relaxed and I enjoyed every minute of it.

I wasn’t alone.

If we were there again today, I’d wish I could tell you everything. All the ways in which my life has changed. All of the ways in which my life has changed by your doing.

One year ago today didn’t feel like the first time; it felt like that last time.

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In other news, Casey had another trip to the vet this morning due to his sliced paw that’s since become infected. It was a quick trip and he’ll be totally fine, but he’s certainly one bummed out puppy due to the cone collar. His energy and spark is gone for now, so we’ve just been laying low in bed and watching Rescue Me at an incessant rate.

I am 26 years old. I am female. I am a woman. I have insecurities. I have self-confidence. I have self-doubts. I do not want a trophy for my ego. I don’t know where I’ll be in five years. I don’t know where I’ll be in five minutes. My hair is a mess. I haven’t shaved my legs in two days. My eyes are blue. I am fearful. The painting I am looking at right now is causing me to yearn. I wish we were sitting on the beach in Tofino right now; I’d tell you all the things that I never have before. I keep secrets. Sometimes I keep secrets from you. My cheeks feel sour. I wonder what it will sound like or how it will smell. I wonder what I will remember and what I will forget. Sometimes I think too much. Sometimes I think too little. I will push people away. I will keep some people. I am loved. I am unloveable. I have family. I am lonely but not alone. I feel able. I feel incapable. My panties are also blue. My t-shirt is red. I have nothing to prove. I have everything to gain and so much to lose. My world is on fire but I am discovering it’s not more than I can handle.

My evening has revolved completely around music. In an effort to “tie up loose ends” (more about that in a moment), I cracked open some old, unmarked mixed CDs and got lost in my own history. My stereo spun everything and anything from the likes of Britney Spears, Rufio, Prince, Peter Gabriel, Red Hot Chili Peppers, CKY and even Tears for Fears. I even let J.Lo do her thing without pressing the advance button. I feel like I’ve always been blessed with open ears when it comes to music. Music is the one thing that has always been a consistent passion in my life. And now as my fingers dance across my keyboard, Sarah McLachlan is filling my living room and it’s beautiful. The memories that these sounds evoke are coming back in a warm flood.

Why am I tying up loose ends? Matt’s leaving for Las Vegas in two days, which leaves me behind as the surrogate with two amazing puppies to care for and love. This also means deadbolting my apartment for a month and skipping across down to do so. (Brock, it’s all yours for the next four weeks if you want it.)

Lately I have come to really begin to despise my apartment. Before you tear a strip off of me, no, I’m not unappreciate to have a home to live in. It’s a huge blessing. I mostly am beginning to despise the building that I live in. Unbeknownst to me upon moving in, it’s known in the West End as the “Frat House.” There’s a never-ending revolving door of ESL students who seem to think that it’s party central. Needless to say, I’ve made my fair share of complaint calls in the three years this place has been “home.” I’m quite sure that I’m part of only a handful of residents that have lived here longer than a year.

The disgruntlement does not end there. Being that I live on a single salary, while paying off student loans, shelling out $975.00 of my hard-earned money every month for 505 sq. feet of space is an excrutiating exercise. Were I living in a safe, secure and well-maintained building, I would find that the money is justifiable. What my building really needs is secured key-fob entry and new laundry facilities that are not only efficient but power smart. Instead, the money I pay in rent has gone to, inter alia, a plug-in water fountain for the lobby, a framed picture of Marilyn Monroe also for the lobby (which, thankfully, has since been replaced by a Native art print) and new light fixtures in the suites. Might I add that these light fixtures were completely unnecessary because brushed nickel fixtures were installed just a year ago that were completely beautiful? They’ve been replaced with glaring white bulbs. Not only were the lights replaced, as you can see above, they were junked behind in my apartment leaving me as the one to get rid of them.

However, if anything, there is one redeeming value to my place…

Wicked views of the Island at sunset from my balcony.

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And lastly, one more bone of contention before I wrap this up for the evening. Upon flipping to the news the other night, I saw a story about some new endorsement that BC Ferries is getting. When the specifics were revealed, I truly was shocked and quite disappointed. The three new super vessels being shipped here, in a very literal sense, are being wrapped by 3M with tributes to the upcoming 2010 Olympics and scenic shots of British Columbia.

An artist’s depiction of one of the vessels. (Click to enlarge.)

The BC Ferries fleet has long been a part of my life. For anyone living on Vancouver Island, they’re an essential lifeline to “civilization.” I have countless memories of sailing over for various reasons, all of which exciting. I can’t quite say that I recall our family’s trip to Expo ‘86, but I certainly remember being awake that morning before dawn, filled with excitement.

What really disappoints me about this partnership between VANOC and BC Ferries is that, as the Olympics draw nearer, they’re inescapable. The ferries are a vestige of my past in a way, and to see them, quite literally, desecrated, is disheartening. It seems that more and more, British Columbia is being defined by the 2010 Olympics when, in reality, the games should be defined by British Columbia. Though, in this humble narrator’s opinion, the games should pack up and find a host city that actually wants them.

Did I mention that various landmark buildings in and around Vancouver are also going to be “wrapped” in 2010 banners?

Post Script: For those of you that have been following my emotional and mental progress in terms of some of the issues I’ve been dealing with, I’m really excited to say that things have been progressively and steadily well for me. I realize that a relapse is most likely imminent, but I am happy and feeling joyful and enjoying today for what it is. Thanks for all of you who have cared, been concerned, prayed, loved or just simply been a friend to me.