crows to burnaby

To the lady who paused at a stop sign at Commercial Drive today long enough to shout at me, "I know it's not my place, but on a hot day like this that dog should be at home!", I would like to say the following:

1. That's exactly where we were going. (I did get to say that before you drove off, but I doubt you were listening.)
2. My dog cannot use the toilet. Wouldn't it be more cruel not to walk him?
3. Hypothetically speaking, what if it was really hot inside my apartment?
4. So you're offering us a lift home then? Mind some dog hair on your car seats?
5. No, it really isn't your place.

When I was a kid, I noticed over the years how every September, everything felt different. It mostly had to do with being immersed in a slightly different world; there was always a new teacher, and usually a few new kids, and even the others would have changed a bit since school let out. And the seasons were changing, and most of all, I would be in a totally different classroom with a different smell, different windows and views, lighting, decorations. New binder or backpack or pencil case, maybe. Different books, different schedule. In the rest of my life, maybe my piano lessons would be on a different day, or I'd have some new after-school activity that would start in the fall. Without being a dramatic change, everything felt like it had shifted somehow.

Of course, scent memory being what it is, I can occasionally encounter some smell that remains me specifically of grade 3 or grade 6 without really knowing why. I don't know what it is that differentiated the years so much, but every school year seemed like a strange rebirth from an old life I hadn't realized was going to end.

I hadn't really had that feeling in years, but it's exactly how I feel right now. At some point in my month away, it feels like I left the old scents and sounds behind, and I came home to find that a new year had started. I don't feel quite like I am who I was when I left. I feel like I cut free some of the things I might have been using to define me, and now that which I think of as "me" is more malleable and less concrete. New job, newly single, new life: I feel untethered and a bit adrift, and I like it.

And, strangely, everything smells different now, just like I'm starting a brand new school year.

Man, you'd think I'd be in the habit of blogging after last month, but I still have to make a conscious effort. At least I'm feeling more inclined to blog again and a little less restrained. Having a month on the road acted as a bit of a "reset" for me; I don't feel like I'm caught up on the same things I was caught up on before I left. (I can always find new hangups, thank you very much.) It feels more like a new start now, coming back to my new place with fresh eyes.

One of the other big changes is my employment situation. I'm finished my contract with Education at UBC, which was nice, but I was in need of a change. I'm going to be getting back into freelance web design like I was doing a few years ago, and am starting those wheels turning again (yes, I am looking for projects).

Also, I've started working two days/week at an artist management company. I'd like to tell you all about it, but instinct tells me I probably shouldn't (okay, there's that restraint again). Suffice it to say I'm really excited about it, the people there seem great, and in one week I already feel like I've learned so much my head is swimming. In a good way.

I have two unrelated observations for you:

1. Where the hell is summer? It's almost summer solstice and there hasn't been much of anything summery going on. It seemed like everywhere we went on the trip, we missed the warm weather by a few days - I was wearing gloves and heavy sweaters in Toronto when we were there, and a week after we left, it hit 41 C. Of course, I'm just as glad to have missed that, but still.
2. I was all excited about the new Portishead album, "Third", being quite a fan of the first two and having seen very good reviews. Someone gave us a copy of it before we hit the road, and I find it terribly unmusical. It's abrasive and irritating, and Gibbons even sings noticeably out of tune from time to time. I keep giving it another chance, then getting annoyed and skipping tracks halfway through. My theory is that Portishead used a new form of copy protection, in which if you make a copy of the CD, the music just turns really crappy. Does anyone have the original who can confirm or deny this?

Well, I don't know how many of you are still checking in here after that lengthy hiatus, but I seem to be back, in some way or another anyway. I was doing some pretty heavy-duty blogging over on ARCTIC's site. If you'd like to read that, here's a sort of table of contents:

1. Vancouver tour launch
2. Kelowna
3. Regina
4. Winnipeg and Thunder Bay
5. Sault Ste Marie
6. A few days off
7. Guelph
8. Toronto
9. Montreal and Waterloo
10. Hamilton
11. Peterborough
12. Ottawa and Oshawa
13. Windsor
14. Northern Ontario wanderings
15. Thunder Bay return
16. Calgary
17. On supporting local businesses
18. Kelowna and home

I'm back in Vancouver now and adjusting to normal life. I'm in danger of acquiring what I like to call Post-Ecstatic Stress Syndrome - the big crash that comes after a highly anticipated, fun and exciting event. I'm already heavily into booking the next tour, so hopefully that'll help ease me down. Plus I can enjoy the little things about being back, like having a greater selection of clothing to wear, and not having to dig them out from the bottom of a suitcase in the trunk of a car.

I really had a great time on the road. I never would have thought, years ago, that I'd do so well being constantly in transit, with interrupted sleep and naps in the front passenger seat of a car, and so on. And I guess it'll be a little harder in the fall and winter, when the weather is harsh (though the weather seemed to be pretty miserable everywhere we went this time anyway) and there are more colds going around. But it was a pretty comfortable thing, and I'm ready for more.

I also had the most awesome reunion with Dexter (the best dog in the world) today. He was staying with some friends who absolutely love him and have been doting on him non-stop, and I half expected him to be disappointed to have me come and take him home. But when he saw me he launched himself at me with sheer wholehearted joy, and proceed to race up and down the hallway, running at me full tilt and leaping into my arms, then taking off down the hallway and flying at me again. It was the most dizzying display of giddiness and happiness and it made me feel really great to be his person.

So that's where I'm at.