Perpetual Stroll

Well, the server I was on for the past 4 years crashed, taking all my blog entries with it. Unfortunately, the backups were lost too, but this gives me an opportunity to start fresh. I'll be completing my cross-Canada bike trek in 4 days and after I get back, Perpetual Stroll will be revived and we'll see where it goes.

While eating dinner with Cliff earlier this week, I mused aloud that maybe losing the last 4 years of my blog wasn't such a bad thing. It would mean that future employers wouldn't be able to read through my archives and fire me for one reason or another. Cliff looked at me and responded, "Yeah, but it's not like you want to work for anyone anyway." True.

In the last week of August, I spent the days riding my bike through the Maritimes and the nights trying to get the server back up and running. It's hard to articulate the feelings that arose after losing everything. At first, I was in shock, then anger set in, then sadness and eventually, acceptance. Yes, I grieved for my blog. After all, there were tens of thousands of words that chronicled some of the highest highs and lowest lows of my life since 2002. However, thanks to Google's cache, I have been able to recover all the monthly archives of my public blog. There are countless files and pictures that are gone forever, but at the very least, I have the writing. Unfortunately, it would take far too much time to retrieve the individual entries with all the comments and I've had to concede that I will have to let those go.

But Google didn't index everything. I think what has upset me the most is the loss of a relationship blog that captured many of the magical moments of when Jenny and I first started dating. Moments of soft candlelight and drifting snowflakes. Tender kisses. Soft caresses. I spent many long hours on those entries trying to craft the words to perfectly describe those moments. But there are always the memories, and there is always the future.

So while in Prince Edward Island, I asked myself, do I continue blogging? Or do I move in a different direction? And after a lot of thought, I've decided to keep on going. Every time I ask myself, "why blog?", the answer has always been some variation of a desire to share my life story, hoping that parts of it may resonate with others.

But a question still remained, do I put the archives back up? This was an opportunity to make a clean break from the past. Or to even clean up the past. I considered extracting all the painful and ugly parts from the archives, but many of the stories are tightly woven into the others and for me, it was all or nothing. I picked all. Why? Because when the blog went down, I received several emails from visitors who I had never heard from before. There were some who had silently read the blog over the years and others were new and took the time to read through the last 4 years of archives. They had never made contact before this, but I'm glad they did, because they reminded me that blogging is a great way to connect with others, whether you know it or not.

Through happiness, sorrow, laughter, pain and joy, I share my story here.

I've only been back home for a week and I've somehow managed to pack my schedule for the next three weeks with appointments, work and other commitments. In the meantime, the blog posts are going to be short. Earlier this month, a couple of Swedish students moved into the house and they have turned out to be right up there on the list of the top 10 roommates list (to date, I've lived with nearly 25 different people). They're fun, they're talkative and they clean up after themselves. I can't ask for too much more.

A couple of days ago, I showed them how to use the washing machine, which is top-loading. When the agitator started spinning, a smile spread across Johan's face and he excitedly called Per to witness this North American contraption. They had only seen side-loading machines before and so they both stood there laughing and staring in fascination at their clothes swished around. It's moments like these that make living with international students so much fun.

As I took the ferry from Prince Edward Island to Nova Scotia last month, all I could think about was a single cup of coffee that I would soon be drinking in Halifax. And this isn't any cup of coffee. No, I'm talking about coffee that is so damn good that it commands you to drink it with your eyes closed.

When I visited Halifax three years ago, I stayed in the Halifax Backpackers hostel. It was a nice and inexpensive place with a little cafe attached to it. I ordered that fateful first cup one morning and from there, I was hooked. Since then, no other cup of coffee has been able to compare to the coffee I drank there. There have been some that have come close, but none have been able to capture the same kind of sensual warmness that just makes you sigh.

Unfortunately, bike repairs and the website downage kept me in New Glasgow for a few days, so I wasn't able to go into Halifax for my long lost love, but Kylie kindly brought me back a small bag of coffee beans from the hostel. As soon as I returned to Waterloo, I immediately bought a coffee grinder and my god, before I knew it, my entire house was filled with the aroma of ... beautiful.

And that's not all. Mere half and half cream won't do. No, I crave the richness that 18% cream can provide. And who knows, maybe one day I'll go for broke and try 35% whipping cream, but I might die from the pleasure. I can't wait for winter, if only for the moments when I will get in from a really cold day and enjoy a wonderful hot cup of coffee.

If you've never tried grinding your own beans before, please give it a try, but I have to warn you-- it'll ruin you for other coffees. They'll never taste the same again. In the past week, I have found myself grinding and brewing at all hours of the day, simply because it tastes so remarkably good. If you're in the area and would like to join me for a cup, please do leave a comment or email me. I'd only be more than happy to share.

Black and white portrait entry for 2006 2007

As far as I can remember, I have thrived on being busy. I love the feeling of simultaneously juggling multiple projects. My first year of university was like that, with six courses and more committees and clubs than you could shake a stick at. As soon as I woke up, I would start working on something and my day would be filled with classes, meetings and events. I considered eating a waste of time, so I would eat while I walked from place to place. Two birds with one stone. I also considered going to the bathroom a waste of time, so I would take my readings with me as I did my business. I would stay up all hours of the night and would often fall asleep with my fingers still resting on my laptop keyboard. If you asked me to take on something, I would say yes without missing a beat, no matter how crazy my schedule was. I could do it all. And it was only reaffirmed for me when all the dust settled and my grades came back as straight As.

So things continued along at that pace. There were a few mental breakdowns along the way, when I would be so overwhelmed that I would be reduced to a mass of stress and tears. Those were far enough apart that it still made the workaholism seem like it was worth it. But it eventually caught up with me, I eventually started getting overwhelmed far too often and things would start unravelling.

In retrospect, I should have learned after the first time, or the second time, or even the third. But that was the danger of success. Every time I could successfully navigate a semester with umpteen on my plate, I'd somehow manage to receive scholarships, awards and general recognition. And my competitive nature decided it wasn't enough to beat everyone else, I had to beat myself too. I had to up the ante. I would see if I could balance umpteen things plus one. Plus two. Plus infinity. Things eventually fell apart and I crashed hard.

The truth is, it's really hard for me to lower a standard that's I've set for myself, especially when you've gone through so much of your life as an overachiever. And if I'm really honest with myself, the hardest part is admitting to myself... to everyone, that I simply wasn't capable of doing everything. It seems like such a simple thing, "you can't do everything". But for the longest time, conceding to that statement was akin to proclaiming weakness. Pride. Hubris.

Old habits die hard. But today, for the first time in a very long time, I said no.

Buy a new futon, lunch with friends, food shopping, edit a 300-page manuscript and transcribe several interview tapes. That was only part of the list I had made for this week, the rest related to the photo competition at Markham Fair: sort through thousands of pictures; pick out my top 20; develop them; mount them; take them to Markham and come back in time for the Medieval Faire. No problem. I can do it all. And then some.

Last year, I had won numerous awards at the Markham Fair for my photos and ... well, I was eager to repeat that again this year. Up the ante. Bigger and better. Stop. I realized I've been down this road far too many times. And I worry. It was easy to do these things when I was single. I could run myself ragged and not have to worry about anyone else, but that's not the case anymore. I worry because there is someone and she's important and it amazes me how easily I get caught up in work and the relationship gets quietly sidelined. When it starts crossing my mind that I need to pencil in my girlfriend in order to make time for her, that's a warning sign.

So I said no. I crossed the photo competition off the list, reasoning that there's always next year. I wish I could say I felt empowered as a reuslt, but I didn't. In fact, I felt somewhat melancholy about the entire thing, because I had been looking forward to it for a really long time. But I'll get over it. It means I'll get to enjoy my Friday afternoon having coffee with a friend and sharing stories of the summer rather than spending the entire day stressing out about whether or not I would submit my entries on time. If I really think about it, there are so many other things in my life that bring me such joy right now.

Like dressing up in Medieval garb this weekend and selling "magical jumping beans" to children.