I’m partially writing this post out of guilt. Even though, I must confess, that I’ve drank enough beer tonight that I can’t promise that this won’t be full of spelling mistakes and mis-directed ramblings.
Back to the guilt.
I spoke with my moms yesterday. Those who know me, know that my moms is the most important person in my life. Now, this is very uncool, but I don’t have a landline so my moms can’t call me. It is like Korea all over again, yo. But I’ve been cool about calling her. This week when I spoke with her she reminded me about something… I’ve not been blogging.
Apparently my mother, who used to be the coolest mother in the universe, has taken it upon herself to quit Facebook. I KNOW! Who does that? Only my moms. So she’s not privy to all the exciting stuff that has been working its way into my status updates (like my fight with the wardrobe, not to be missed on my Twitter posts).
So, I was talking to my moms last night and she said, “You’ve been neglecting the new blog lately, eh?”
I fear she is right. She’s a mother. The chances are… she is always right. Damn it!
I have been neglecting the blog. I want to update, but I don’t know how to. Life seems to be in limbo at the moment and that doesn’t lead to very exciting stories.
Tonight I went to a gig. Fairly middle of the road. I would have to say what made it most interesting was this: I went to see MONO… a Japanese ambient rock quartet in London as a Canadian with a South African friend. Strangeness.
Stranger still, we had a fairly important conversation (in my opinion) between sets. He mentioned that I have not been home, and that I should go home at some point because I would, at that point, see how things are different because of where I have gone. I may be paraphrasing.
I admitted to something that I don’t think I’ve told anyone else… but now that I’ve let it slip to one person I might as well tell (potentially) the entire world. You know why I haven’t been home? I’m afraid to go home.
Part of the reason for that is entirely shallow, the other is hard to pinpoint. Let’s start with the shallow bit before we tread deeper waters, shall we?
One reason why I’m not in a hurry to head home is this fear that no one will care that I *am* home. If I came home for a couple of weeks (say, for Pam’s wedding next winter), I worry that I’ll send out the word and no one will be able to shift appointments/work/whatever to see me for the limited time that I would be there. “Were you ever gone?” they’d yawn, even though I’d been missing for more than four years at that point.
I know. I KNOW. I know how shallow that is. I shouldn’t have to define who I am by how much I am/would be missed. But part of me can’t help it. I need to be missed. I need to know that I matter to people and that they would be sad if they found out that they could never see me again they would be absolutely devastated. And I’m scared that if I went home I would find out that wasn’t the case. So, yah. That’s the first bit.
The other part is… well. This part is different. Tyran mentioned (he would be my partner in crime during this school night out-and-about and the one who got me thinking about such things) that when you go home you notice that everyone just has continued in their lives, along the paths that you saw them on the last time you saw them. And that now you are someone different. (Or something along those lines…. a. I’m drunk b. I feel that I can take literary liberties when necessary to make my point.)
So, there lies my second fear. Yup. I stepped outside the path I was on. I fucked off to Korea on a whim and didn’t tell too many people. Ended up there for two years. After that, I decided that I needed to move on and instead of moving back to Canader (still the best country in the world, by far) I decide to live in London, England. Why? Because I could.
And am I better off? Am I really doing something else?
I don’t know.
I’m still just going to work in an office every day. I work anonymously in a big city where what I do doesn’t really make a difference. I may have changed here and there but not so much that I’ve rendered myself unrecognisable.
I work. I eat. I… whatever. Wherever you are… whoever you are reading this (if anyone is still reading this drivel), I’m sure your life isn’t all that much different than mine. In fact, you may be more fulfilled and whatever than I am. More… something. I dunno.
And I don’t know why, but this made me think of two very different people. Two girls that I have a lot of respect for. Because they kick ass. Because they helped me form who I am. Because they have both walked a different path than me even though at one point we were close enough that I even lived with each of them (although not at the same time). One, like me, moved far away from home. The other stayed in Canada. And… and I dunno. Again. I dunno. But tonight this train of thought let me to each of them and I want them to know it.
So, tonight I thought about two girls that have meant an awful lot to me (even though I may be shite about showing it). They meant a lot in the day, and whether they know it or not, they mean a lot now.
When I mentioned on Facebook that I was going to see Girl Talk, both of them commented. Obviously, both of them listen to this particular DJ. And I was thinking of them tonight… thinking about paths… and thinking about how it doesn’t matter where you are… because wherever you are… there you are.
My life in London is not more glamorous and exciting than anyone else’s life. Tonight I was once again surprised at how comfortable I was getting on the train from King’s Cross to Old Street, and then walking (music pumping on my iPhone “mug me” earphones) from Old Street to Hoxton Street (through N1, not London’s nicest borough). This is life. I live in London and it isn’t any better or worse than living anywhere else. It just is.
And because I want to give props to the girls I thought of tonight… Andrea…. I’m so freaking happy for you. I love your blog – it shows the extent of your wit and intelligence and I miss you more than I could ever say. And Heather… you were the only one who got the Radiohead lyric that I was feeling right, and you got it right way. I miss you too, and I can’t wait to see you in May.
Sometimes I feel very lonely here, even though I’ve made some absolutely kick-ass friends. Because it isn’t home. And although I miss home, I’m afraid to go there because I worry (hopefully unnecessarily) about how I may not be missed as much as I miss it sometimes. I think about Korea, and the amazing people I met there.
Where’s this entry going? Absolutely fucking nowhere. I just… I just don’t know. I’m so uncertain right now about where I am and where I might be going that I just… don’t know. But in the meantime, I hope to make the most of it and kick some ass. Because I have a funny feeling that in the end that is all we really have in life at the end of the day. It doesn’t matter where you are… all that matters is that you made the most out of what life handed to you.