contradiction girl meet contrary boy

both lying at odd angles.
door open to the world
for fresh air
and freedom.
tell me what you want me to do
said with a wry smile
and trouble in his eyes.
moments delay
or so they seem.
i'm not laughing at you
as she turns away giggling
i'm just really giddy.

He's not getting older, he's getting bitter...

Tomorrow is the first day of summer and my mind is wandering to memories long past.

Three boys riding identical red bikes with identical black helmets along the Musgrave Harbour highway towards a swimming hole. Goofing around, being young. A mishap and one takes a rough tumble. Shaken and shocked they all ride back to the summer home to lick their wounds. One physically the other two worried and guilty at far too young an age.

Lazy afternoons downtown. Bikes and boards. Always looking for just one more quarter at the arcade. Let's go roofin', one suggests. The others follow. Nothing better to do. Over this fence, up that ladder. Watch out for Security. C'mon b'y, sure it's only 10 feet or so. Run run run. Jump! Fly for a millisecond. Knees skinned. Adrenaline pumping. Right on.

A gravel pit with a bonfire has almost become a coming of age cliche around here. Almost. 16 and one half years. Too young to be here doing this, but there is no stopping him. Music blaring amped up by the generator. I think I'm really tripping, he says. The sky is moving. You are such a light weight, b'y. Those are the northern lights.

Years later. Darkness fell, hours before. Drugs forcing him awake. Hair flowing like a mane. Barefoot, running up and over parked cars. Urban primative isn't about piercings and tattoos. Climbing chain links, scrambling over concrete, around the back way. A note left on her window; the one that no one should be able to reach. Shirt torn, feet dark and dirty, but nerves firing, reminding him what it is to be truly alive.

The buddy system. Enacted to serve and protect. At the cabin, on a retreat. Rum and beer, beer and rum. Open fires and drunken lads. Let's go to the park. Everytime a car drives by the drunkest of the bunch dives into the gully. They aren't Nazis and you're no commando, b'y. Dashes off into the dark, no moon. The sound of heavy meat hitting gravel then someone spitting up pebbles. Where's his buddy?, one asks.

Summer is coming.

Snap back to reality, Oh there goes gravity

I opened the door and all I could smell was cheap chicken burgers, fries and weed.

The roomies are back. Blowing in, almost, as unexpectedly as they blew out.

I was just starting to enjoy the solitude; the privacy.

Ottawa was sleepy they said. Thrill's apartment was loud and too clean; creepily clean.

Oh well.

I just need a spaceship to get me outta here...

The roomies left for Ottawa this afternoon while I was at work.

I knew it was coming, but I thought they would leave a note or something. It is like they were abducted by aliens.

It is an odd sensation to come home to a house, once full, now empty of poeple but not their stuff. I love it, but it is giving me the willies. This may be accentuated by the sense of mania I have been suffering from since the onset of the full moon.

Who knows?

One thing for sure. I have been down right giddy the last couple of days. Giddy is the only fitting description. So giddy it is.

A number of you have probably never seen me giddy. It is very dangerous as I become immediate trouble. Trouble to myself and my neighbours. You see when I get giddy, I really start talking out of my ass. My mouth starts writing cheques my ass can't cash. Luckily, I haven't gotten into any arguments or really hurt anyone's feelings yet, but I imagine it may happen soon. Just warnin' yah.

Terror had struck me, but all I could see is your soft skin...

What a day.

Twenty four hours have come and gone and I am finally home, resting, waiting for sleep to gather me up and take over.

I don't think I can begin to describe what a fulfilling day I have just experienced. So instead I am just going to post a short list. A list of the things I am thankful for today. Things that, in my weary mind, as the day comes to an end, mean a lot to me.

• girls with blinders on. They remind you what it is to live, with their crafty ways.
  
• worlds colliding. Its about time and needs to happen more often.
• a bunch of kids that work their asses off every day. I hope I can be good enough for you.
• caring touches when you least expect them. We should all be so lucky.
• finding community where one least expects it. It makes it all seem more worthwhile.
• friends offering you something you need when you don't know you need it. That's why they are friends.
• swinging bats and catching balls. Remember what it was like to be a kid?
• a happy tired. The lack of sleep is irrelevant. If I could do with even less to experience even more, I would. In a heartbeat.
• the joy of a reaching a mutual decision while staring into a wood fire. The thought still makes me smile.

"This isn't how the tours of my house usually end, but I'm not complaining"

The roomies have gone to the mall, not sure why, but I am happy about the peace and quiet.

Just finished watching a DVD with the patio door open. The cool breeze is really pleasant, but I wish it were a little warmer.

I broke a valve on my bike's front tire, which sucks. Now I have two bikes in my front porch with flat front tires. Next week will be bike repair day. I promise.

Last night at volleyball, the skies opened up. We were getting spanked by a nice enough group of players, when all of a sudden it was the best sun shower I have ever experienced. A tiny, dark and dangerous cloud had been hovering over the Pavillion for about an hour when it decided it had had enough. Bam! Rain, in sheets, came down with a vengence, but off to the side were rays of light. Bright sunbeams just out of reach. Of course, we kept playing. The ball got slick and heavy and coated with mud. The net sagged under the weight of a drenching. I went from sweaty to completely soaked in a millisecond. People scattered, trying desperately to get under some cover. Even the dragonboaters (goddamn, dragonboaters) tried to get in. We kept playing. For a little while. It was awesome.

Thanks to everyone who replied to my music email. It was great to hear all the different voices.

And ooh la, she was such a good girl to me...

Monday mornings aren't supposed to be like this
Meet by the Cafe.
A beautiful geisha in the sun
Too bad about breakfast
But a coffee, a coffee would be grand
Lying on a hill
Looking at the Gardiner not the gardener
A glimpse of leg I wasn't ready for
Relaxed more than usual
Drawing circles on her hand
If only it would last
Laughing some; talking some
I wish I could stay
No, Monday mornings aren't supposed to be like this.

"A month of parks, puddles and pleasant sounds"

I just realized that summer has begun.

No, not the solstice or any calendar specific date, but my summer.

In the past 4 weeks, I have visited at least 5 parks at least twice each. For those keeping track they would be High Park, Christie Pits, Dufferin Grove Park, Dovercourt Park and Sunnyside. I guess my Bloor West leanings are really showing, so I'll move on. I have spent hours in them relaxing, talking, laughing and generally doing summer things.

I have spent at least 3 days walking in warm rain and not really caring.

I have been looking forward to thunder showers and sharing them.

I have driven with my windows down most days of the week, except for when I want conversation.

I have gone for midnight bike rides, not because I have had to get home, but because I wanted to.

I have had drinks on patios, in bare feet no less!

I have slept with my patio door open, and haven't been afraid of the raccoons.

Summer is here and with it comes smiles, laughter, friendship and incredibly good things that some of us may have forgotten about.

She's posting all the time, but the boards are down.

Tonight, I was sitting around my house after work trying to decompress.

It isn't like work was overly stressful, the complete opposite actually. It is just that I tend to be keyed up when I leave work at night.

It did only take me 21 minutes door to door to get home.

Mental note: be prepared to get a speeding ticket if you are going to do 130kmh on the QEW. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday the fuzz is going to be bored too.

So I got home and the roomies seem to have made up a little, which means they are back at their normal roosts. It is strange it seems that one of them is perpetually lying on my couch. He was there when I left the house this morning at 10:30 and was in the exact position when I got home at 11pm. I know they went to work, but I just can't figure it. Does he have a continuity girl stashed in his room? How does he do it?

At about 12:30, I got a little stircrazy. I just couldn't deal with being in here anymore. So I left. Got on my bicycle and went for a ride. Went as far as Christie then turned around and went the same distance west from my house. It was such a beautiful night. Perfect for riding. I criss-crossed side streets, took some alleys, you know, just made the trip longer. It was incredible.

Well until I got back on Wallace. I was coming out of the section of Wallace that is a dead end at the train tracks. The spot with the big bridge. Anyway, I was heading east towards Perth Ave, when this van turns on Wallace from Symington heading towards Perth as well. All of a sudden he turns on his high beams and keeps them on until he gets to the intersection.

I get to the stop sign first. I cross the intersection and pass him on the driver's side, sit back in my seat and give him the finger while yelling 'F*ckin' Idiot!' into his open window.

That's when I notice it is a City of Toronto Parking Enforcement van. The lazy SOB had his high beams on so he could see down the street for cars without having to go down into the cul-de-sac. I was pissed, but kept riding.

That's when I noticed he was following me. I took Symington south and then turned on Paton, taking the the odd side streets back towards my house. He kept on following, not doing his job, but keeping track of me. At this point I was wishing he would say something. Driver's generally forget that almost every bike rider is armed with a 5-10lb metal club in the shape of a u-lock, perfect for smashing out windshields. But he stayed back, following me all the way to my street, but not turning down. He just kept on driving down Wallace.

Part of me wishes he would be spending the entire night explaining how his city vehicle had its window smashed instead of spending it ruining mine.

I'll be your distraction...

So, the roomies are fighting.

There was some sort of blow up on Friday night after they were paid for their first job.

Something to do with a bar tab.

They haven't been speaking much since.

This worries me.

There is the possibility that I may get stuck with one of them for longer than I planned. They had planned to move in together after they get their business going. If there is a falling out, there is no business and no moving in together.

That would suck.

I like the money, but part of me hates the lack of privacy. The company isn't bad, but sometimes I wish they would go home.

Oh yeah, this is their home.

I have been on a musical jag as of late. I thinkI have added something like 9 albums to my library in the last 2 weeks. That is a lot of albums.

Yesterday was my friend Scottie too Hottie's birthday. I tried calling, but got the machine. It isn't the same so, to make up for it, here is a big ass shout out:

Happy B-Day, you metrosexual goof!
Hope you have so many more you lose count!
Fer shizzle!

"the simplicity of the stupidity was effin'... ingenious"

My phone rang
I didn't hear it.
Cacophony being the norm
I saw the light and headed for the door.
Plastic nuisance worth more than gold
I trundled through the rain.
Spot found
I focused down, smiling inside.
Tomorrow at one
I said in the alcove.
Plans made
I dodged the drops.
Heading for the door
I wished I was somewhere else.
With her.

And you can be my sugar, be my cherry cola...

Do crushes change as we get older?

What does everyone think?

I think yes, but I have heard some dissenting voices lately.

When was the last time you crushed badly on someone? Remembering back was it different from when you were 15? How about 20? What about 25?

I would like to know.