They say heartbreak is good for the skin, but all that it's helped is my drinking.

I now live in Victoria. It's beautiful here, even in the rain that soaks me to the bone when I walk to work, even in the wind that threatens to blow me straight down the road to the shore and out to sea, even when the loneliness sneaks up on me at around 1 or 2 in the morning. I love it here, above all. My roommates kick ass, play video games, and smoke a lot of weed. We have a cat and a hampster and a huge kitchen slowly being invaded by beer cans.

You, with your soft eyes disguising some form of ugliness inside. I didn't think you were capable of that, I truly didn't. That's what I get for holding expectations: a fuck, a few laughs, and a wave goodbye. I hope she suits you better, and yes, I'm not stupid, I found out.

As much as I tried to leave it all behind, bits and pieces of Nanaimo cling to me like kids wanting to be picked up. "Don't ignore me! I'm part of you!" Drunken emails, text messages in the dark, and 36 hours with a local who's arms wrapped me like a straight jacket and I was happy enough at the time to stay still in insanity. I have no strong desire to come back yet, even for a visit. There's so much negativity there right now, so many hearts I tripped over and eyes that thought they could peer deep enough to figure me out. Plus, barista duties, dinner dates, and organizing my closet by hue is enough distraction at the moment and I'm pleased as punch to roll with that.

X-Mas '06. Mix cd's? That's right! I'm fucking poor! Get excited!