Moving Day

3:31AM. Everything looks pretty sweet, just a few clothes to pack, and the floor to vacuum and then sayonarah 1280 it has been fun, eh? Strange to think of the number of nights spent under this ceiling in this little corner of the world. And that tonight is the last. The last. So final. The number of times the door code has been punched, never again. No more ignoring the transient passengers upstairs, or the like. No more unconscious returns and wasted recovery days in this peaceful, hidden cave of an abode.

It is all to the good. What more could you ask for as you paid down the debt and stomped off for a few further adventures, avoiding the inevitable purchase of the car all the while? And there is a need to change things, refresh/renew the spirit and the mind. A cleansing of life itself. Going through old purchases and accumulations, tossing out most things but keeping what can still make you smile. Tedious, but the rejuvenation proves worthwhile.

For there is much to look forward to on the other side of the Atlantic. First the small matter of Kath's nuptials, and another marker on the road toward feeling old. So be it. Shaved the beard for the first time in awhile tonight - another way to shake things up, feels younger but also feels new, the same eyes staring out at a far different face. It does not take much for the magic of "change" to make its prescence felt.

And a disguise in a sense, in case you bump into the assailant of last Saturday night. Glad to see the previous post from the moment, it captures the main thrust better than words in retrospect. To hear Amitabh retell the story is classic, the spitting up of blood, the sweetness of the kick to the summer, my perfectly smooth fall into the flowers. Just too funny in the end, once you emerge (relatively) unscathed. Considering the possibilities, it could have been disastrous. No matter. "Leave we him to his events, with a prayer they may prove prosperous..." And as for you, Galway beckons. Ready to start? Ah yes. Escape is at hand...

0001398173

Who was that asshole? Who wailed on your left temple, and then Amitbah's defence also landed him here. The boys are owed a drink, for sure. But who was the girl with the guy who unexpectedly turned v. His girl. What an error. Almost hilarious, the attack. A beer for our boys, surely. And a pretty little Irish lass, of course. Oh life. You must make it so fun, non?

Rosee d'Hibiscus

Patio lunch, on this glorious summer day as you continue the long semi-goodbye to Halifax. A riotous last fortnight, from the Friday of the Hip and vague Seahorse (un)memories before the early boat trip to Peggys, to the following week's cigar symposium and ready-to-start, Andie MacDowell / Teri Hatcher Alehouse antics, early morning boating again, and then the Illicit, Malenfant, and room 486 capping off a grand Monday night. Now here just soaking up the relaxing calm of a Thursday afternoon patio ale. Nice breeze, at once a shame about the lack of company and a blessing simply to have been urged out of the usual pattern.

It has been that way, these past few weeks. Whether just the call of summer or the impetus granted by the relief of certainty over the escape, I sense new doors opening and a willingness to entertain them. It is the perfect attitude with which to start the next phase of life's adventure.

For example, there is the thin blond who also arrived alone, cracking open her library book two tables down. If on the road, you have to think, you would just opt for the approach. For the story, if nothing else. The Korean hat mentality, in other words. The care-free, come-what-may, fuck-'em attitude. Although important at first to keep things within your grasp. The end is in the beginning and all that. Where you have the start to recreate.

Le Banquier is on his way and should go well with this DAB. And then? I love the random possibilities. I love how there is little doubt you will do your best Econ thinking in your favorite Galway pub. Almost feel like that's one of the great unspoken goals of the trip over too. To settle on that girl.

Enough. What needed to be recorded has been. Let's see what follows. Without fear.

The Future Goal of Sailing Over?

It has been done, and well chronicled at that (see note on leaving Halifax and the entry on arrival 24 days and 3,087 miles later). That should make for interesting reading... A goal for year 4? We shall see. Just another intriguing angle on this upcoming adventure. May also have hit upon a plan last night for New Year's that would encompass Hamlet, Rylance, the Gunners, and maybe even the Northern Lights for good measure. My oh my. "Smart man," says Gibson as you walk down the soon-to-be-unfamiliar corridor. I'll take that.

"Un jour à la fois"

Or so read the label on the extraordinarily refreshing red orange juice this morning, after the pieces of the weekend slowly started to get picked up following a wasted Sunday. The softening haze of time and all that, dignity shattered and left to heal slowly piece by piece with the proper combination of laughter and forgetting in equal measure. Ah, randomness. You have an epic way of commemorating moments, just put it that way and leave it. And put it another way as well, in the words of that Hip song and a new favourite, Escape is at hand for the travelin' man. A night in which that is (re)discovered can never be a bad one. I wonder if anything will come of this morning's message, but even assuming nothing, hard to consider it anything other than a not-bad way in which to leave Halifax for new entertainment on foreign shores.

It also strikes me (as both funny and appropriate) that through all the back-and-forthing of application tedium, once the surprising word came through on an actual acceptance two weeks ago today, it has taken this long to log the fact herein. Much done in that short time as you move along a track destined for Eire, there is much to contemplate. I think a departure from Montreal will suit wonderfully. Why not spend the Labour Day weekend abroad? The dates for moving out all the more perfect, just as you would have hoped last summer when the decision was made to stay on for one more year. Oh my oh my. How the world turns.

Toyed just now with the thought of starting a new blog for the new adventure, but probably will opt to just keep this anonymous journal running. It has suited the purpose well, and no need to mess with a good thing... But an online Guinness tally is probably a requirement, so maybe that is how you change it up. So much to be done, just one more sign of feeling alive, etc. Awesome.