The dreaded November

It's a tough time of year. So dark, dreary, wet, and sleepy. I'm sad and lonely for no reason. I wonder if it's seasonal? I'm healthy and have a solid job, yet I find myself feeling lost at what to do to meet interesting people. It really makes me miss my close friends back home. It feels like there's nothing to do but drink, which in turn makes me tired and moody. I've taken up running, but it's difficult as I have little energy with weather like this and late nights at work.

I pick up the last of my belongings from my ex tomorrow. Not fun. I hope that this act of finalization will allow me to move on and fall in love again.

Fall

I'm actually glad the summer is over. There's something so nostalgic about fall. The colors are soft and warm. This summer was a doozy for me. I started a new job that thrust a heap of responsibility on me. Being a perfectionist and relatively hard on myself, it was a bit draining. I ended up turning to alcohol. Not so hard when the sun is beating down and the common social theme is drinking.

I turned 33 last week. Something in me switched. Since my birthday I have had very little need to drink or even be social. I'm throwing myself into my work, and doing it happily. I figure it's time to hack down some of this debt I own.

I can't stop reading, it's making me so relaxed and happy. Plus, I've been sleeping soundly for over a week now.

A very challenging year

I've been with my lovely lady for just under four years. We moved here together from Victoria to share in the adventure of coming to a new and exciting city. The first six months seemed blissful. Living and chilling out together, coffee in the mornings and movies at night. As time went on, something in the relationship shifted. Finding what or how to remedy this has been very hard. I can sit and stare at her, feeling how much I love her, yet there seems to be an emptiness that has crept up behind us.

My lady is a wonderfully passionate person. She came here to act, and act is what she has done. I firmly believe her career will fast track in no time at all. This makes for a busy schedule, one that I think doesn't balance with a long term relationship. I'm not trying to make this a blame statement, as I have much work to do on myself as well.

Passion is an interesting beast. Most of us go through life ignoring our passions as we feel it's 'not the right thing to do'. After so many years of working the jobs that we don't mind, it's tough to break the mold. I'm 32 and finding this balance between scarcity and happiness has been hard. As for my relationship, it seems it may be time for a break. It brings tears to my eyes thinking of losing her, losing her family, and losing her little dog I grew to love so much. I don't see any other way. It's super cliche, but maybe letting go of what you love is sometimes the right move? My heart is brimming with sadness and memories. Maybe it's time to create some new ones...

Bar Tenderness

I've entered my eighth year as a bartender. I'd like to think I'm pretty good. It's not just about having a vast drink knowledge, but having a sense of humor, a general knowledge of random, useless facts, and good personal skills. Over the years I've been asked hundreds of times 'what do you really do?' or 'what do you hope to have as a career?'. It's hard to hear. Suppose tending bar WAS my career choice? What if it's what I REALLY did?
I'm wondering at what point it became unacceptable to be a bartender. In the past, a bartender was held in such esteem as the family doctor, the neighborhood mechanic, or your banker. I often feel a sense of unjustified guilt when speaking of what I do for work. I have fellow bartenders friends that average 100k a year, most of that tax free. Is that not enough? I want to feel proud of what I do, but it's hard. I feel judged.
Since moving to Vancouver last year, I've met some really interesting, intelligent, and quirky bartenders. It makes me happy. I feel as though we should start a guild or club or some form of bond. Brotherhood of Bar or something cheesy like that. Perhaps down the road, the bartender will again be a proud profession. Until then, I'm going to work on being proud of myself.

The choir

This past saturday I was invited to watch my friend Missy's choir, which was singing at a Protestant church a couple of blocks from my pad. Seeing as it was a few hours before work, I obliged. The show was slated to start at 730pm. My buddy Ian (also a friend of Missy's) and I thought we could grab a beer beforehand. Nope. Ian was late so we went directly to the performance and arrived right at start time.
The first downfall was that the show cost $20. This shouldn't have bothered me, but it did. I'm rather cheap lately and I was going to a choir I didn't care about. We found our seats halfway down the left hand side. It was bloody hot. Me, bundled in my finest winter coat, my scarf, and my usual work attire of a tie and shirt.
The start was late, so now I'm hot AND irritated. Plus, I knew I would have the uncontrollable laughing seizure at how bad this would be. At 8pm the choir kicked off. The first song was 'Groovin' by one of those random sixties groups. I lost it right off the bat. Tears streaming and trying not to make a peep, my body shuddering with silent gasps.
I pull together briefly enough to study the group of singers. There's three tiered rows consisting of roughly 20 singers. A majority of them women, but the back and highest row consisting of men.
Missy is my age (32) and she seemed to be the youngest. The average age of singer looked to be about 40. All nerds. The leader of the pack (conductor) was a woman in her late forties/early fifties, who talked too much about herself. At one point she did a solo song, which was written by her mother. It was slightly touching, but overall the song was really bad. I got the embarrassed feeling.
By far my favorite singer to watch was the token really tall, nerdy, middle aged man with a dress shirt that was way too big around his tiny neck. He was so into singing and had the best facial expressions. I was mesmerized. However, he really didn't help my laughing fits.
After nearly an hour of shitty 60's one time hits, and a few more modern songs, it was intermission. Thankfully I had to work, so Ian and I ducked out and didn't return.

An image taken a few years back when we went to see the Steelers play in Phoenix.

A few pics from my recent trip to Alberta