Nurse Sean (dot) com

My weekend began with a call at about 9:30am on Friday. I was having a horrible day. I’m sure you know the type of day I was having–I woke up on the wrong side of the bed and the day just conspired to keep me in a cranky mood. Every word, gesture, or action by any human being just served to make me angry. The mere existence of humanity and the world itself was enough to make want to scream in rage. Yes, it was one of “those” days.

The phone call went out to R. that I needed to get the hell of the city. We had been hinting of driving somewhere on the weekend, and I knew that I needed to reinforce that idea. The comfort of R.’s voice and the knowledge of an upcoming mini road trip kept me sane for the rest of the day.

We woke up at 7:00am Saturday with absolutely no knowledge of where we would be going. I finally decided that we were just going to start driving east with absolutely no plans as to where we were going to end up, or what we would do when we got there.

I secretly hoped we would get all the way to Saskatchewan. You see, while I have been all over the world, I’ve only been to two provinces in Canada–Alberta and BC (as long as you don’t count airport visits). So, I thought it would be nice to add Saskatchewan to my short list. But, I knew it was a long way to Saskatchewan and we only had the weekend.

We hit the road with the requisite bag full of McDonalds crap. I received the Garth Brooks collection from Wal-Mart for Christmas, so I slapped in one of those CDs and away we went. I bet a lot of you didn’t know about my secret Garth Brooks obsession. It’s the only country I ever have (or will) listen too. I’ve never been a country music fan, but somewhere along the way I became obsessed with Mr. Brooks, and never let go.

The first of many Tim Hortons stops was in Strathmore. By then, R. was sick of Garth Brooks, so I put all 3298 songs on my iPod on shuffle. Strathmore was a symbolic spot for me. It’s the farthest east on the Trans Canada highway that I have ever gone. As soon as we drove east of Strathmore, the trip was officially an adventure.

Our next stop was Brooks for more Tim Hortons. OK, seriously, what is that smell? I’ve heard that Brooks, Alberta had a “smell” to it, but it still took me by surprise. So, I ask all those that may know…what the heck is that smell?

(by the way…as I type…I’m eating vegetable barley soup from Planet Organic. It’s delicious! Go get some!)

After Brooks, I started to realize that this is a really dull chunk of the Trans Canada Highway. It’s nothing like heading west into the mountains, and R. states that after Saskatchewan there’s trees and lakes etc. All I could see was farm after farm after farm. I really started wondering what the heck was the goal of this road trip. I knew that I wanted adventure and fun. I wanted to explore and to experience new places, but at this point, all I had done was eat fatty foods, drink coffee, and watch run-down farm buildings fly by.

Medicine Hat was all about stopping and eating Arby’s. I expected Medicine Hat to be bigger. Perhaps it just looked small from the Highway, but I was sure it would have some office towers, malls, and suburbs. Instead, it just looked like another small prairie town. It’s amazing how you tend to build up pictures in your mind of cities that you have heard about all your life, but have never been to. I guess one of the fun parts of road trips is seeing just how these pictures differ from reality.

A few more minutes out of Medicine Hat and *poof* we were in Saskatchewan. I can add it to my list of Canadian provinces I have been to. I expected the moment to be more exciting, but really, it was all about going from prairie to…more prairie. Saskatchewan stretched into the distance in every distance but behind and I couldn’t wait to see what this trip would bring me.

Saskatchewan immediately invoked a feeling of loneliness for me. There was a huge feeling of emptiness that surrounded me as I looked out the window. The best word I was able to use for what I was seeing was “apocalyptic.” Every building we saw looked completely abandoned. Farm houses seemed rare. There were no little tiny towns. It was as though we were the only people in the entire world.

The weather started getting bad. Clouds drifted in and created almost no visibility. Now, in every direction were dense clouds. Snow blew across the road in gusts of wind. This all added to the empty feeling as we ploughed though Saskatchewan. I had no idea what was keeping us going. Every kilometer we drove, the farther we came from home, the greater our drive back was becoming.

Swift Current was a welcome sight. We parked the van and walked through the powerful winds into an old small town mall. Swift Current was also so much smaller than I always imagined. I started to wonder why I see towns as bigger than reality.

The mall was filled with numerous old people sitting in the food court, gossiping about life. I definitely felt like an outsider as the occasional crowd of old people stopped their conversations midstream and looked at us, wondering who the hell we were. We quickly used the bathroom and got out of there.

R. finally asked the questions we were both thinking. Do we stop? Go back? Keep going? Up until that point I was thinking, “we need to stop in Swift Current. The weather’s getting worse, and we’re getting FAR from home.” but I couldn’t believe when out of my mouth spilled, “We have to go to Moose Jaw…and I’m driving.”

The weather was horrible for about an hour, but it cleared up as the sun started to sink. I couldn’t believe that we had been driving so long that we had left Calgary just after sunrise, and we would be arriving at our destination just after sunset. Not to mention, I still hadn’t discovered the purpose of our trip. While we were traversing new territory, we weren’t really exploring, discovering, or experiencing anything. Really, all we had done was sit in a car and listen to a couple hundred random songs that in some way represented my life.

Moose Jaw! I don’t know why, but I have always wanted to see Moose Jaw. So, as I drove into town, I couldn’t help but feel excited. I couldn’t believe my eyes! Moose Jaw was WAY bigger than I had expected. There were tones of houses, malls, tall office/apartment buildings. And Main Street was so cool! It was filled with old, historic buildings with big personalities. It was dark, so there wasn’t much opportunity to look around, and we were tired and numb from driving for seven hours. We found a dirt-cheap hotel, went to Boston Pizza for dinner, and went to bed.

Boston Pizza was fun. There really was a community feeling in that place. Everybody seemed to know each other, mingling at different tables. Some people seemed as though they just hung out there a lot, others seemed as though they came from their kid’s hockey game. Either way, there was a quirkiness and charm to the people and the environment.

In the morning, we were faced with a six or seven hour trip home, so we decided not to stick around too long. However, we did go for a drive around town before leaving. Once again, I was struck by the apocalyptic, empty, lonely feeling that arose in me while looking out at Moose Jaw. The buildings all seemed too big for the town. They were run down and seemingly uncared for (at least visually). However, there was an extreme beauty to these buildings at the same time. Moose Jaw was completely unique to me in a way that I just can’t put my finger on. It had the feel of a large city that had been mostly abandoned. As I mentioned earlier, the buildings just seemed too big for the city.

I realized at this point that there was no purpose, and never would be a purpose to the road trip. I hadn’t thought about work for about 24 hours and that’s what really counts. I removed television, computers, and many other stimuli that keep my brain jumping all the time. Instead, I just listened to soft music and stared out at near nothingness. This lack of stimuli relaxed and refreshed me. The lack of purpose WAS the purpose. I’m tired of always having a purpose to what I do!

The idea of small town living gained another point in my big city books. In fact, I have decided to write a book called “In search of Cicely.” I doubt it will ever happen, but I like the idea of this book. I am obsessed with the show Northern Exposure. Since I was a kid, I have wanted to live in a little teeny quirky town such as the fictional Cicely, Alaska in which the show takes place. I would love to travel Canada in search of a town that lives up to the standards that Cicely has set. It would be a fun Canadian travel book, similar to the stuff that Will Ferguson does. But, I would have to magically become a great comedic writer. If that happens, I’ll give it a try!

This trip back was fun, and pretty much exactly the same as the trip in reverse. We were a little depressed that our weekend was done, and we had nothing to show for it but a very brief memory of Moose Jaw.

All I know is that I would like to go back to Saskatchewan when I can explore a little further. Maybe next time I can see Saskatoon and Regina too!

Or perhaps we’ll go south next time…

Sean

P.S. I had many beautiful pictures of the trip but (insert long boring story here) so I don’t have them. Sorry!

I have seen a few people do a month-to-month recap of their life in 2006, and I have been loving it! I really want to see more people partake…so hit those old blogs and start summarizing!

JANUARY

This is the month I started my Community Health Nursing clinical. My team was placed at a homeless shelter for teenagers. If only I had known what was in store for me in this clinical! Lets just say I became much more comfortable with conflict, and with standing up for what I believe. Our group was strong, and some of my strongest friendships in nursing were formed. However, every day was a new struggle with our instructor. She made our semester a living nightmare in more ways than I can describe. The entire event was so horrific that I have literally (and I mean literally…not that thing where people say “literally” but actually mean “figuratively”) blocked out many aspects of the semester.

What I did learn was confidence in my own abilities to work academically, that I can achieve a hell of a lot when I force myself to push my limits, and that no matter how rough life is…if you’re working with people you trust and like, you can achieve near miracles.

FEBRUARY

This month was INSANE! Amongst the hell and chaos of my Community Health Nursing semester, Richard and I moved to our new apartment. Nothing else happened because there really wasn’t time for anything else!

It was sad to say goodbye to the old apartment, even though I hated it. After all, it was where Richard lived when we first met. There were a lot of good memories there.

MARCH

This is the month I walked out on my job at Starbucks, appalled at the way they treated me (both the management and customers). One day, while working, I told them I wasn’t coming back, and I left. It was a great feeling that arose from a new found sense of confidence. I decided that I deserved better than what they were offering, and I left. I have yet to regret the decision at all.

I remember being greatful that I wouldn’t have to work for the rest of the semester, since Community Health was kicking my butt! I believe it was two days later that the hospital called and offered me a job as an Nursing Attendant, leading to a job as an Undergraduate Nurse for the summer. In thispost, I describe my first days in this job.

This is the month I started my now deceased podcast. I could never decide exactly what I wanted to focus on, barely anybody listened, and it was just too much work for almost no reward. I loved it though, and if I can find something with more direction, perhaps I will take up the challenge again.

APRIL

Not a lot happened in April (at least that I can remember…or that I posted about). I continued to publish podcasts, and community health nursing was finally coming to an end. While I was glad to say goodbye to the nursing instructor from hell, I was sad to say goodbye to some of my team members who had become extremely close friends.

MAY

This month, it was back to adult med/surg for a month. I worked on a medical teaching unit, something I was dreading, but eventually loved. I thought I was a surgical nurse through-and-through, but during this clinical I discovered that medicine can be very interesting and fun. It was during this clinical that I began IV initiations…something that I’m still horrible at. I can’t seem to start an IV on the biggest of veins. But, in May, I had one successful start.

This is the month that a man jumped out of a sixth floor window of the hospital, landing only feet from a crowd of people at the entrance of the hospital. What a scene that was! If you think lots of doctors run to a code blue, you should see how many run to a mangled body on the ground. The broken window didn’t get fixed for days, and every time I walk past that spot, I can still vividly visualize the pair of shoes sticking out from behind the bush that concealed his death.

This was, of course, the month of the Waterton retreat. It was a beautiful and refreshing weekend that was filled with joy. In my mind it will represent the best of the final times spent with my friends before we were shattered to the core. Plans for the doomed Sunlit Grove were just beginning, and bonds between everyone seemed strong. I didn’t know it then, but looking back, I think the seeds of things to come were already there.

JUNE

This is the month I became an almost real nurse. I started working on the surgical oncology ward as a paid nurse with my own patient assignment. I hated every minute of it. I was not emotionally, physically, or intellectually prepared for what laid ahead of me for the next three months. I hated the nurses, doctors, and patients. The experience made me bitter and truly had me questioning my choice of careers.

JULY

There’s not much to say about July. I continued to struggle with my job on the surgical oncology unit. Every day was such a struggle that I just wanted to collapse!

AUGUST

Finally! I had a bit of a break when Richard and I went to Victoria for a short four-day vacation. Richard and I made the decision to eventually move to Victoria after We fell in love with the place instantly. We also headed down to Waterton for my B-day, and I took up the guitar again.

SEPTEMBER

This is the month that marked the beginning of the end of my nursing student career. I began my final clinical practicum on a urology unit, which I loved! The nurses were kind and accepting, the patients were infinitely less acute and “scary” compared to the surgical oncology unit, and I actually felt respected as a nurse and human.

This is the month I finally took the plunge and bought my own domain! YAY! I officially own nursesean.com

OCTOBER

This was one hell of a stressful month. Sunlit Grove was destroyed, and so were friendships. I’m still convinced that it all could have been avoided. Miscommunications occurred, people made assumptions that just weren’t true, and tempers ran high.

I learned that when given the choice, humans will choose to see the bad side of people rather than the good, and that they will create negativity where it doesn’t exist. Furthermore, I learned that this negativity only serves to create more negativity. I learned that private conversations are never private because there will always be someone trying to listen…so always talk about people as though they are eavesdropping. I learned that I am OK with conflict, that I have a large capacity for forgiveness, and that I can be humbled. I also learned that being disappointed in someone’s behavior doesn’t stop me from caring about them or being their friend.

More than anything, I learned that sometimes something that is broken just cannot be fixed.

NOVEMBER

This was a month of hard work and reflection. Amongst the numerous hospital shifts and papers, I desperately tried to piece together my thoughts and feelings regarding my spirituality and the fallout from Sunlit Grove. I decided to stay with Spira, but I feel very alone. I am the “odd man out,” not belonging to any group. To be honest, that’s exactly where I need to be. I don’t have the emotional or time commitment to be a part of a spiritual group at this time. I am drained in that department.

I also had to decide where to work following graduation in December. As much as I hated my summer in surgical oncology, my gut instinct was that it was where I needed to be. So, I took an RN position to start on December 11th.

DECEMBER

DONE! I finished school! I didn’t really have time for emotions. Two days after my last shift on the urology unit, I was starting back on the Surgical Oncology unit. On my very first day after graduation, I was in charge of two students! So surreal!

There was an incredibly different vibe on the unit compared to the previous summer. The staff were kinder, I had more freedom, and I didn’t feel so lost all the time. I realized just how much I had learned over the last several months. I am extremely happy with my job there, and I find myself excited to go to work. Every day is infinitely fascinating and exciting. More than anything, I love being considered an “equal” amongst the nurses, rather than an annoyance.

I am looking forward to the new-year, imagining it as a beautiful blank slate. I am free to stretch my limits both in my new career and spiritually. I have laid the groundwork, and only now am I free to truly grow as a person.

I think 2007 will be an amazing year!

Today I was over at my parent’s house. I had a great time! My Grandmother has arrived from out of town, and my Sister, brother-in-law, and nephew were there as well. My nephew is about 2 and 3/4 years old, so he is just a big giant bundle of energy. I’m pretty sure he could happily run in circles for hours!

It really hit me hard that I wouldn’t be able to be with them tomorrow morning. All the talk was centered around my nephew opening up all his presents, and how fun it will be to watch him be so excited! I guess the reality is that for the rest of my life, Christmas will just be a bonus. Some years I will have it off, and other years I won’t.

My Grandmother was a Registered Nurse, so we had fun “talking shop.” I love hearing her stories of how things used to be done. Some things haven’t changed at all, and others are completely different.

Oh well, I’m just going to eat some lasagna, watch some Christmas TV, and go to bed…listening, of course, for the sounds of Santa on the balcony.

Sean

P.S. Does anyone out there have a livejournal account and know how to go in and make all the entries private? If not, I’m just going keep my livejournal deleted. Going through and doing each post individually will take WAY too many hours. My parents now know I keep a blog there, and honestly, I have no desire for them to read what I wrote in some of my posts. Yes, I know, I have broken the number one rule of blogging…never write anything you don’t want certain people to see…because you never know who will find you.

*sigh*”

I am the first person at work today. I came in, made coffee, and now I’m sitting here listening to my iPod (God bless my iPod) and sipping coffee that I made.

I went for a jog this morning. I forgot what a huge difference exercise makes on a person’s day. Everything just seems “sharper.”You feel just a little more comfortable in your own body.

Although, it wasn’t easy to wake myself up at 7:30am this morning since I ususally get up around 10am everyday. I’m grateful I did, and I think the main reason I was able to do it was that I knew I would be grateful….and be infinitely regretful if I slept in instead.

Isn’t it amazing how one song can bring back a wave emotions? I know…I’m preaching to the choir. But MAN! I only had to listen to James Taylor’s “Fire and Rain” once yesterday and I burst out in tears. At that moment I missed Boston, I missed P., I missed that assured feeling I had that I would be moving to Boston after graduation to be with him forever. I haven’t even talked to him for about six months. I went hunting for him last night online, but couldn’t find him. It was a wierd moment.

The beginning of the Baseball season…and watching those oh-so-sentimental Red Sox play at Fenway isn’t helping either.

Today is my nephew’s first b-day party. I discovered the other day while standing in Toys-R-Us,scratching my head, and staring at a wall of toys…that I have no idea how to buy for a one-year-old. I must admit I’ve never done it before. I got him a Baby Einstein Book (On Mozart…ick…everyone knows that I’m a Beethoven kind of guy, but you do what you have to do) and a little barking dog attached to a string that he can pull along beside him while he learns to walk.

Geeze…jogging with an iPod, buying toys for my nephew, eating special K etc.

…I’m officially a yuppy!

LOL

Pyrsos

I was never popular throughout school. I was always the guy that was simply “just there”. Everyone knew me, and knew of my existence, but nobody generally paid attention to it. The first group of people I associated myself with was in grade nine. They were a group of outsiders whom in the year 1992 listened to anything except for what was popular. The hit bands of the time were New Kids on the Block, Snow, Vanilla Ice, Boyz to men, and other such cheesy pop, teen idol type bands. These guys and girls listened to heavy metal. Megadeath, Iron Maiden, and anyone that everyone else hated. It was through these people that I was introduced to Nirvana, and became a “grunge” long before it was popular. I was never truly part of the group though. I was never their friend. I was never accepted. I was “just there”

High school started, and I become the “norm” with my grunge look, and the music I listened to was all the rage. The bangers I spent my time with went to a different school and I was left alone without a group of people to be with. The first place I looked was church. The youth group at one particular church was the most incredible experience. The youth group leader could suck in the most hard core atheist. Though, not in a negative way, but because he was such a caring, beautiful person, and the light that shone from him appeared as God shining through him. I spent everyday at the church playing pool, hanging out with friends, and through bible studies and church services I became the most devout bible thumper anyone could possibly be. I felt welcome in a world that accepted everyone, and everyone was loved as a brother. It was a progressive church with hard rock instead of hymns, and youth group movies that discussed sex in an open minded fashion, rather than the hand of God simply telling you “NO”. There was one youth group bible study that started as usual. We all hung out, played some pool, discussed the latest gossip, and just enjoyed each other’s company. Finally, Phil, the leader, sat us down for a bible study session. The topic was homosexuality. I was in shock. The entire bible study focused on bible passages that proved that being gay was wrong and it was not allowed in God’s eyes. I never went back to youth group, or that church. I rarely spoke to my friends. In a place where I felt part of a group, I had suddenly become an outsider. I was 16 and still in the closet, but I still knew I was gay. In the eyes of the Christian God, who preached acceptance of all and love of everyone, I was hated. I rejected Christianity and full out refused to follow that path again. I loved my friends, but I was too intelligent to not be myself. I was alone, searching for friendship, a group of companions.

Now, I was in the concert band during high school, and being a small group we became fairly close to one another. In fact, after I left the church, these were the only people I ever associated with. Even then, however, they all knew that something was “different” about me. I wasn’t the same as anyone. I didn’t seem to have any beliefs, or cares, or morals in common. The only thing that attached me to this group was our absolute love of music. Our common knowledge that the beauty of music was not in the sounds, but the emotions it brought us. Anyone I tell that I spent all my time as a “band geek” laughs at me and tells me that only losers ever take band. They have no idea, or understanding of the feelings involved in playing a piece of music as part of a concert band. No matter what you look like, what you are, who you have sex with, what your marks are, how much money you make, how different you are, when the conductor waves his magick wand and the first note plays, every difference disappears. The beauty that is reached by each and every person working as a whole, and you just being a small, but vital part, is more entrancing than even the most powerful ritual. It was the true definition of ecstasy: divine madness. It was primal, and at times brought tears to my eyes. Anyone who can be brought to tears by listening to classical music should become a part of this process. In true personal style, I graduated, went to university, and egotistical because I was the only person in band smart enough to enter post secondary school, I left my friends behind, all but ignoring their existence. Interestingly enough though, I have now watched several of those friends from band that I held myself high above graduate from university and start successful careers while I failed out. Even the hard core drug addict of the band has a good job and just bought a condo. I live with my parents.

One of the best groups I was ever a part of was in my first couple years of university. We were the smart ones, the intellectuals, we were incredibly introspective. To me it seemed as though we could run the world. All the intellectual thought I learned at university, was not learned through classes or writing papers. It came from the conversations with these individuals. My mind was fully open to new learning and deep, powerful thoughts. I was still the outsider though. I was a first year student, and these were all fourth year students. They were just another group that didn’t “want” to hang out with me, but instead “let” me hang out with them. My greatest influence of that group, and the only person I still converse with is Jason. He was gay, and the smartest human being that ever graced my presence. He was the first to tell me that I was too smart to be earning the marks I do. He claimed that I was an out and out genius and should follow my dreams of taking on a PhD. For him I tried. He was the one true role model I ever had in life, and I miss him now that he lives in Montreal while doing his PhD. This group was disbanded though. Most of the group graduated, and moved on in life. I was left alone, without a group.

I have traced the blooming of my personality to one day while I was bussing tables at Boston Pizza. I had been eighteen for a few months and I finally pounded on my manager’s door, and demanded I be made a waiter, or I’ll quit. He said simply “you’re too shy, you don’t talk to coworkers much, let alone customers. You work hard, and do a good job, but in order to be a waiter, you need to be extremely outgoing. I’ll give you a month to change.” This is back when I was ambitious, and had the energy to take on new challenges, I wasn’t jaded as of yet. I thought to myself, “if I have to change my entire personality, I will”. So, I did. I became wild and outgoing, crazy and attention starved. I was overly happy, and bubbly. I got the job. Although, I truly don’t think I changed my personality. Instead, I believe I awakened my true repressed personality that was hidden all my life, because I was different…gay. I was being myself finally, and I was amazed at how quickly I started to make friends. Socially I was becoming welcome. I loved, and still do, walking down the street and being stopped by someone who cries out, “HEY! You’re the guy from Boston Pizza that serves us all the time.” I was practically famous. Even today, I’ll be out and about and hear “hey, it’s the guy from the university coffee shop” or “look, it’s the waiter from Denny’s” I’m recognized a lot and everywhere. People finally liked me. I wasn’t the quiet, shy guy that everyone ignored. My latest manager said something quiet interesting, and opposite from that first manager. He said “You have a skill. You can make people WANT to see you. You know how to get people to come for coffee just to see you, not for the coffee. It’s a skill that is rare, and I wish I could teach people, but I can’t.”

It was at this time that I was introduced to one of the most accepting groups I’ve ever been with. I wasn’t just the guy who people “let” hang out. I was one of the group, and people in the group enjoyed my company. This group was the Southern Alberta Pagan Society. For years I had been studying witchcraft, and paganism, and through the internet I was led to this group. I remember how scared I was during my first meeting. My heart was racing so hard with excitement and fear that I almost threw up several times. The first person to greet me was Tamatha, then Jill, Feith, Dot, and Mark. I was at peace. The energy in that room amazed me. The feeling of “being home” was a trance that only making music could compete with. I had found my place in life. For months SAPS was my home and family, the people I spent all my thoughts and time on. I loved everyone, and hopefully they all loved me. Unfortunately after about a year, as is usual with any group, people began going their own way. Tamatha moved to Texas, and Feith to Halifax. Jill left the group mysteriously and Colleen left for a life in Edmonton. Dot and Mark Split up. The energy was gone from the group, the passion that could be felt at our meetings as if every Thursday was a ritual was gone. Our time was meaningless. We desperately tried to hang onto SAPS, and still are today, but it will never be the same. Probably the worst occurrence was that a few in the group became close and the rest of us became outsiders. I was once again just someone who people “let” hang out with them. It was uncomfortable to go to the meetings, so I just stopped. I’m still a part of SAPS, but only from a huge distance. I’ve lost respect for many of the people of SAPS and rarely let myself be associated with them. The past is still my dream for the future.

I was on a new path though, it wasn’t just the rest of SAPS. Perhaps the magick created in SAPS was for all of us to find our newest place in life. I came out of the closet and began associated with the gay community in Calgary. I was that bubbly person that learned his social skills from serving tables. I was also the person everyone laughed at cause I was so lonely and constantly depressed. I had found and lost love, and could no longer live without it. I was making friends faster than I ever thought possible, and became a well known individual in the Calgary gay community. I never really have found a group though. I keep wondering from group to group trying to find the one group that will accept me as part of the group rather than someone that just happens to be there. I bring entertainment to a lot of people, but it seems that that’s all I am anymore. I’m not a person with feelings, or needs, or love to give. I’m just entertainment. I’m popular though, Very popular. I’ve had days where I’ve had 10 people call me asking me to do something with them. I’ve had days where there are so many people I know and want to chat with at the bar, that I just have to leave because I didn’t know who to talk to. I had a day last week, where in a supposed group of friends, we were planning a trip to Red Deer for a big gay dance. Everyone was staying together at Dan’s house. Jason, my best friend turned to me and said, “by the way, you can still get a cheap room rate at the holiday Inn.” I’m on the outside of that group too. I’m the guy that just happens to be there, but isn’t welcome to exist withing that circle of people. I’m depressed.

Its been said that the devil lives in Hollywood. People move to Hollywood and would do anything to become famous. Perhaps even sell their soul to the devil. They don’t care about the money. They want fame. They want to be recognized as a person who is worth something. Them want people to look up to them for a change, instead of the opposite. People want to be loved by people. Its as strong of emotion as wanting to be loved by a spouse. So desperate for this feeling, that eternal torture sounds like a fair trade. For most of my life, I wasn’t popular. I was just the guy who happened to be there. I’m never accepted as a human being or someone worth spending time with. I’m good enough to say “hi” to and be entertained by, However while those same people are out watching movies or having dinner, or spending time with their friends, I sit alone at home wishing someone would call me and invite me to a movie. I have no friends, I’m lonely. I go to the bar and spend time with hundreds of people I know well, but I have no real friends. I am popular, and so lonely it hurts. I think the reason I so desperately desire that one true love is that I’ve given up on having a group of friends and receiving any love from them. I’m sick of being the outsider, the one nobody truly cares about. I’m sick of being left out, and rejected, and ditched. I’ve finally experienced popularity in life, and let me tell you, Its truly lonely. I would never sell my soul to the devil for this.

The truth…I push anyone that cares for me away. I won’t let them get close. They give up on me. They stop caring. I reject myself.

Leo’s Rain

Late last night I finished doing laundry and packing my bags in preparation for my temporary move into my sister’s appartment. I finished around midnight, not leaving much time for me to sleep. I woke up tired. Something was different about work today. It could be because it was very slow, but it was very calm and peaceful emotionaly. I felt as though it was my home and and everything I needed in life was here. Emotionaly that is. A very different attitude towards work than when I left there on Friday. For the first time in awhile, I didn’t hate the idea that I was working. It cofused me!

I managed to get myself off early today, which was awesome, because I could barely contain my excitement at arriving as my sister’s appartment. Has anyone else in the world felt this excited just about living somewhere for a week. Upon reaching my sister’s appartment and lugging my suitcase up the stairs, I entered. I got the usual “Who the hell are you” looks from the cats…”silly cats! Its ME!” I won’t see them for a few days. I took a look around, angered at the changes that were made in the last six months as if this were my appartment. Thankfully the nick-nack treasures collected from around the world were still there…although some in different spots. My favorite bed, the one that gives me better nights sleeps than I ever thought possible, was there waiting for me in the spare bedroom. The memorable peacefulness and joy that this space brings me, descended upon my like silk pajamas. I could feel the gaze of the Ganesh and Shiva statues watching my moves. Objects my sister most likely bought for the sole purpose that they looked neat. I on the other hand have studied the mythology of these Gods, knowing that Ganesh, the God of luck in wealth next to Shiva, the God of distruction is just plain silly. I felt so smart, then I realized that it was my sister that actually got to experience the temples and monuments of these Gods, while I house-sat for her. Still, the energy of this strangely mundane space brings me unexplainable calmness that I’ve not encountered anywhere else.

After to the mandatory internet set ups and ICQ downloading, I thought to myself “I’m in granola-ville…pagan central…hippy commune of Calgary. I’m in Kensington! I MUST walk to the pagan bookstore just down the street.”

My shoes are slipped on and my jacket put into place, I’m ready to go! More strange “So, you never did tell me who you are”, and “where’s my mommy” looks from the cats.

I rushed through the stairwell of the building, knowing that the familiar smell will, as it always does, bring memories of the men I’ve been deeply in love with while staying here. I Crashed into the -9C air with not a care for how cold I was about to get. I light a cigarette and prepare for introspection.

I adore sauntering past these houses. This area of town is said to have been the official “red-light” district of Calgary many many years ago. Now the area is mostly filled with houses approximately fifty to sixty years old. I imagine as I walk through the alleys, the houses non exsistant and only the oil lamps and sleezy bars alight in the distance. I feel a prostitute slink by me praying I don’t approach, because she’s taking a well deserve break from the rush of the street life. I hear drunken farmes screaming in joy in the distance, embracing the joys of life. Then the houses pop up. Brand new in their time, filled with war brides and poverty. A modest house when new, now in its trendy death stages is worth a fortune. I see the families of past moving to the subburbs and the hippies and free thinkers of the sixties taking over. I see the beauty of diversity singing a song on the wind. Everyone here is who the wish to be.

Enough of the houses. I hit the streets with the trendy shops. The first person I see is a drunken beggar, begging for soup. Even he is beautiful admist these gorgeous building and peaceful energy. I pass a Starbucks. My favorite one. Its the first Starbucks in Calgary and going there seems almost a pilgrimage for me. Its what Starbucks is supposed to be. Celebrating alternative culture and diversity. Living on the philosophy of varience. Not like my Starbucks, where we all must conform to the snotty conformist rituals of hotel buisness.

Its not time to stop at Starbucks though. Thats for the way back. I hasten my pace, I’m starting to get cold. I’m there, I enter the store, the smell of insence hitting me like a brick wall as it always does. The heat stifling. Why is is always so darn hot in this place? I do my usual circle of tartot cards first, community events second, and books last, many many many books. Some that you would never find anywhere else. I begin to browse. I can always feel the eyes of the old women who are hanging around. I feel they are looking at me and judging me for not being as much of a witch as they are. Or am I just paranoid. Still, I’m always afraid to pick of certain books that I know will give me a nauseous chuckle for fear that one of the crones who seem to hover and read over my shoulder will actually think I would buy this and follow it! I think I’m just paranoid. I pick three books. One is the Charles Leland book about Aradia. Anyone familiar to witchcraft will know that this is the book that cause the genesis of the neo-pagan movement. I also picked up “making magick” by Edain McCoy, one of my favorite books of all time that I lent out and finaly decided to give up on ever getting back. Third, was what looked to be an interesting book revealing the histories and myths surrounding gods as apposed to goddesses. Too often I hear things such as “we are here to celebrate in unity, the wonderful, fabulous, beautiful, creative, inspirational, wise, perfect goddess Brighit……and the god”. I want some refreshing deapth into the other side of this gender polarized religion. I resisted the urge to purchase every incense known to man, and fourty two differnt necklaces and a craft kit to make buddhist meditation beads. That was tough, but I still managed to spend $75.00.

Time to hit Starbucks. I love the Kensingto Starbucks, its so relaxed and cozy. I bought myself an Iced grande caramel macchiato (THE best drink you can buy at Starbucks!) Which reminds me. I must convince lupinevoice to start drinking Starbucks coffee rather that Nabob traditions. I cry for her! I quickly peak at a couple books. It was very interesting to read the charge of the goddess in its origional italian, and a direct translation, rather than the overly reworked, overly poetic modern versions.

Starbucks was too hot, and I missed the calmness of the appartment. So, off I went. I had a nice soothing bath and and put on my house robe in preparation of writing. I feel purly at peace. I MUST make this my home some day. There’s something about it. It feels like home, as many places do to me.

Leo’s Rain

I only slept for about 10 hours last night. I’ll regret that tomorrow when I start to get exhausted again from waking up at 4am every day. I woke up starving and surprisingly lacking in a lack of coffee headache. I watched tv, went to Subway for dinner, watched tv, and then came to write in my journal. A very typical Sunday for me.

Last night was a much better night than Friday. I was well rested, and didn’t have to be with people I despised. I woke up at 3pm, wrote in my journal, and watched “Road Rules” as I always religiously do on Saturdays. My friend Jason called, and I was off for coffee and dinner with him.

Jason’s a true friend. Hardened by years of lacking boyfriends and true love, he’s become bitter. In that fabulously hilarious way that only gay men can pull off. He’s polite, mature and intelligent. It was wonderful to sit down and have coffee with him and discuss are bitterly horrible love lives together. Alex and Erick were there as well. They are also friends, but not as close. Alex was late, so we didn’t get to have a formal dinner, just a stop at Wendy’s. Alex was off to “small change, big changes” galla dinner. They give you a small piggy bank to put your spare change in. After a few months, everyone decorates their pig, and brings it to the galla. All change going to Aids charities. Erick left right after dinner to go home and work on school work.

Jason and I went back to his place, and I hung out with his roomate while he got ready. His roomate is hilarious. Think of the butchiest lesbian you’ve ever met…she’s butchier! Straight as an arrow though. All her friends are lesbians though, and all she does is play and watch sports and action movies. I came up with a term for her. Thesbian….cause she acts like a lesbian. So, while Jason, the traditional fag got ready for two hours, we watched football and checked out football players together. I made her watch “Iron chef” of course. You can’t call yourself gay if you miss it!

We were off. We made our way to an ARGRA dance. Its the rodeo dances where everyone dresses and acts as a cowboy….or are trying to find something other than the one gay bar in Calgary. Its actually quite amazing to go to one of these dances. You look around and you can’t help but think to yourself “WOW…these are REAL people. Not the fake people with emotional masks that go to the bar with blue hair, and glitter on their face…glowsticks in tow. These are REAL men, with REAL jobs, REAL emotions, REAL bodies, REAL personalities.” You look to your left and you see a guy who you could tell just got off his tractor and snuck away from his farm family to finally be comfortable. On your right is an old man in cowboy clothes, with pain in his eyes, because he’s so lonely. Quiet and introverted. Too shy to find anyone. Lost without that special leggo piece that would complete the form of his soul. Straight ahead, is the hottest man you’ve ever seen….could it be…IT IS…its the marlborough man….only hotter. His clothes are expensive, and clean, and…..oh….he just opened his mouth and talked…thats a lesbian…oh well.

Behind me…a surprise appearance from Jeremy, my December puppy-love crush that won’t go away, forcing me to get weepier over him each time our auras mingle. Anyone who knows me…if you met him, you’d know he’s perfect for me. I’m getting better at not caring of such matters. If he doesn’t want me, thats fine, I’m more intersted in finding someone that is…not someone that I can force into it. Thats what Rudy’s trying to do right now. I’m letting him learn this lesson the same way I did. The hard way. Sometimes I wonder if in this new non-chalance to finding men, I’ve become lacking in any ability to try for a man. Perhaps Jeremy wants me as much, but I’m not even bothering giving signals. I just need a man that wants me, and tells me such, and gives me no choice but to give in to his charms, looks, and personality. I’m a dreamer….refusing to wake up. Scratch that. I was a dreamer, and now I’m going through that groggy period where you don’t want to wake up, but life is forcing you to stop hitting the snooze button.

Jason, Jeremy, Duane, and Duane’s boyfriend Chris, and I headed over to boyztown. Thats Calgary’s one true gay bar. Its like home to us, and we were ready to cozy up on our comfy couch…..the dance floor. One that didn’t involve knowing how to two-step that is. The Boyztown part of the evening is a wee bit hazy. That, of course, is when I started my Saturday ritual of drinking myself silly! All I know is that I danced a lot with Jeremy, and my crush on him got bigger. I had another beer and got over it. Then ignored Rudy, said goodnight to Jeremy, and once he left, staying seemed pointless, so I left.

and that was another night….

Sunday is almost over, and its just about time to transform from outgoing, party queen Leo, into supervisor of the crappiest starbucks on the planet!

The next week should be emotionaly interesting. I’m house sitting for my sister for a week. Her apartment is a lucky place for me in the category of love. Everytime I’ve stayed at her place I always seem to get the men I want. Hopefully this won’t change. The first time I stayed there, a man I was hopelessly in love with for some reason wanted to have sex with me again…all the time….out of the blue. Of course, I thought that this would make him fall in love with me, so I did it. I was so young and naiive when I was 20. That same housesitting period I fell a million more times in love with Dan, forgetting the sex hungry guy I mentioned a moment ago. The second time I stayed there, I fell in love with another man, and had two men fall for me. Trust me….between these moments….there was nothing….no intrest from any other man. Or maybe I just try harder when I’m there. Who knows…we’ll see.

Anyways….I must go transform into the boring dull, yet ifinitely more introspective weekday self that I must be!

Leo’s Rain