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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.

a tiny odyssey

December 13, 2008. 2:00 p.m.
get the wheel, lets go for a ride...
Jesus Fucking Christ. I love going to places. Staying in one spot for too long drives me a little batty. But the getting to the plane, being in the plane also drives me a little nuts. Sartre was totally spot on: Hell is other people.

Let me repeat: Hell IS other people.

No one has any consideration for anyone else. They are all just yackity yack at you no matter how engrossed you appear to be in your book. They listen to music (which in istelf is completely fine) but with ear phones that seem to be broadcasting the music to the rest of the plane rather than the person they are actually plugged in to.

I wasn't planning on pulling out my iPod to listen to music during the shorter flights because I've been totally lost in A Dull Roar by Henry Rollins (who, by the way totally gets what it is like to want to be alone) but the guy in the NEXT aisle over is listening to his iPod at some insane volume on the worst headphones, ear buds whatever...they are obviously not doing the trick. And I think it's old ACDC he's listening to. Great, the trailer trash music follows me everywhere.

go ahead, I said....erase
So, I'm sitting here, typing up a new entry on my laptop, trying to drown out the smells and noises of the people surrounding me. I guess I've been in the North too long, living it up on my own with too much relish, because last night I went into a bar to get a G&T and got a little twitchy for all the people in the place. All of them loaded, leering and loud. That didn't stop me from snorkeling down 4 drinks in 45 minutes before tottering out, but it wasn't the most enjoyable experience. I went back to the hotel room, listened to music, read and surfed the net.

I can see the airline ladies serving food ahead of me, and pouring drinks. They actually have wine. I wonder if I will have any. I don't think so. I am more hungry than anything else. It's a long plane ride (for me, anyway) of three hours, so maybe a bit of wine will help me conk out for a bit. Interesting to see my thought processes, isn't it?

Food time.

9:03 p.m.
are you still there? Yeah, I'm here
In Toronto. At a Perkin's restaurant next to the hotel I'm staying at. They lost my bag, which I expected. I don't know why. I just presumed that there would be an issue. Any time I am not dragging my luggage off a conveyor belt at each airport I ghost through, I just presume no one else will do it for me. And apparently I was right (this time). Luckily, I am used to travelling somewhat lightly, and packed everything essential in my backpack which comes on with me. Camera, laptop, sleeping clothes.

December 14, 2008. 9:08 a.m.
On a small plane to Sudbury, Ontario. Met up with Pam, a friend of mine from a few years ago. We keep in touch but so weird to run into one another just out of the blue. Took a photo. Will post later.

Bag found. All harmony restored to present state. Looking forward to landing and getting a coffee and having a long cigarette. This is only an hour long flight. Had one last night as well from Ottawa to Toronto. Watched a small part of The Dark Knight. I have a little thing for Heath Ledger. But we landed too quickly for me to get too far into the movie. Will have to pick it up at some point.

Almost 'home'. Where is home exactly...?

December 18, 2008. 10:32 p.m.
Updating journals. Alone in the house in Northern Ontario. Parents have gone to pick up one of the nephews in London. The christmas lights are on, the house must look like a beacon of sorts. The northern ontario winter is in full bloom and the snow falls while I'm outside smoking. Buckley and Marble in some sort of glory, with the treats I hand out and Beebs sleep beside me at night. I wish they were packable so I could bring them with me wherever I go.

Small road trip planned for tomorrow. Just me, music and the road. Black ribbons of it rising up in front of me. My mascaraed eyes and plumes of cigarette smoke.

Can you picture it, beauties?

Get the Wheel - Greg Dulli
The Lure Would Prove to Be too Much - The Twilight Singers

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