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This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

first, make sure the propellers are off

I'd be there if I was a better man...click that golden button and update. So much to say, try to stay with me here...I'm on the edge of a precipice. Or something.

I did manage to pack the stuff I thought I might need in the short term. I spent some time watching my favourite Sopranos episode and spending time with the dogs. They made me teary. Then I feel asleep, only to wake up every hour to a dark room and impending abandonment of personal surroundings for an unknown length of time.

This morning, we woke up on time but still managed to be late for the airport. Luggage woes in that the plane I was to travel on was so teeny tiny that they had to charge me some incredible rate for two suitcases and a duffle bag. My hot pink carry-on was deemed 'too big for out plane'.

You should have seen my face.

I had to go through security three times before they were satisfied that I was not on a mission to do anything wonky on the plane. Finally cleared and barely had time to say bye to my mother who was looking visibly distressed. Hurried hugs and I was in line with a boarding pass and my sunglasses.

My shoes and the wheels of my carry-on were all I heard on the tarmac, then the buzzing of the teeny tiny planes. Then I saw these little stairs that fold up that I had to use to get in the plane. Then I saw the seats. For tiny people, with tiny little bums! So, I picked the second one from the left, at random. I couldn't even stand up straight in the plane, I was flummoxed, so I just sat down.

Then one of the pilots is instructing me on how to open the door 'in case of emergency'. Me. So I ask him, like 'Lost' in case of emergency, or like, the plane is not going anywhere so we just need to get off the plane emergency? He didn't say. All he said was: First, look out the window and make sure the propellers are off.

You should have seen my face.

Then I realise I picked the seat that if the propellers decided to deviate even two inches either to the left or the right of their ordinary course, they would chop off my legs. I decide to ignore this, and pretend to look calm and cool. I pop in my ear phones, turn on the iPod, adjust my sunglasses and lazily....lean my forehead against the tiny window, of the teeny tiny plane. Inner aloofness achieved. And maintained through-out flight.

I'm in Ottawa now. Our Nation's Capitol city. Woo. I was chagrined that because we're in Ottawa now, there are no smoking rooms to be had. But one bright light was that I went to find a corner store (having some memory of where things are around here) only to stumble upon a fabulous Vietnamese restaurant across the street. So, I had my favourite meal, then headed back here. I saw these teeny tiny cigarettes in the store, but was asked for I.D (which I left in my room), so I didn't get them. I am thinking of heading back over there grab some, just because. I want teeny tiny cigarettes now.

Ok. This is a mammoth entry. I've got a few things to wrap up here before I turn out for the night. I have to be at the airport at some sickly hour of 7 or so, so I will be in bed early. I think.

so..yeah. Make sure those propellers are off, first.

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