I always think I'm okay with living in Toronto, and like it, and then I look at pictures from Montreal and feel rather lost again.

/ / /

So I've been watching a lot of trashy tv lately, mostly in the form of Wife Swap and Trading Spouses. You'd think this would be a bad thing, but really I'm learning a lot. The best characters on these shows are the ones who are the most firm and unwavering in their beliefs, the ones who take themselves most seriously and think they have everything figured out down to a nail. They are the ones who make the "best" drama, and come off the worst. Watching these people is a good reminder never to become too certain of my own wisdom.

Last night I dreamt I was running late for work because I had nothing to wear, so I decided to get up this morning after pressing snooze only once, in case I took a long time to get dressed. As a consequence, I was twenty minutes early for work and decided to detour to Bulldog coffee, this place I love and work so close to, but never stop in at. It's on a cool, leafy side street and it just felt so nice and civilized to walk back there, order an espresso in this little place, and sit down to drink it and read Bonjour Tristesse until it was time to go to work.

And after my other long dream, nothing. I thought I would find myself thinking about it as I went to bed that night, but I haven't at all. I was wondering if this would be the last time I would think about it. My thoughts were so intense, it seems to have been a moment of intense scrutiny, the kind you have right before you put it all away for good.

Acts I

Why do I sometimes feel like all apologies are selfish acts?

I woke up from a dream this morning, long before dawn. I often dream about the same person, one I cared about very much but treated badly. When I used to dream about them, it was welcome. It made me feel vulnerable and somehow exposed, but I told myself it was like visiting when we lived in different cities. But now I wake up so full of regret. A couple of weeks ago the dream was confrontational. Last night it was friendly and sweet and perfect. I was awake after that until it was time to get up, replaying it and willing myself to go back to sleep, and wondering if there’s any way to fix things.

Fixing things is such a selfish impulse. In my mind, I created a hideous break, hurt someone deeply, need to rectify things. Meanwhile I’m sure everything has been forgotten, swept over, and my compulsion to make contact, do something, would only dredge up events that he is happy to have left in the past. It’s all ego.

Yet I’m sure I will do something. And the worst is that I’ve done this all before. I could see that they’d begun to care for me, knew I did too but didn’t know how to react, how to behave, what to do and how not to be selfish and shallow. So I willfully spoiled it. The first time I realized what I’d lost, regretted it terribly, and fixed it to a very nice state. But then it happened again and now I’m sure it’s too late for apologies and regret. I’m sure they no longer care, they have other things now. I’ve been forgotten and my ego can’t take it.

Sometimes I think I ruin things on purpose in order to give myself opportunities to wallow in that sickeningly sweet haze of regret and melancholy.

The day I heard back from school

This happened a week or two ago, but it was so good that it's worth writing about it now. I was waiting to hear back from school, the one I really wanted to get into. It was already the beginning of june and I had been obsessively checking their website, where they post your application status, every day for weeks. When I say every day, I mean three times a day or so. By this point I was starting to seriously picture what would happen if none of my applications were accepted. I had no other plans besides school in fall. I started to imagine being stuck in this crummy office even longer, and it was a puke-provoking thought.
Finally I called them and the girl I spoke to said she would put a priority on my application and send it to be reviewed, and that it would be ready within seven days. Within seven days must mean that it would be ready on the seventh day, so I resolved not to bother checking it until then. And I didn't, for a couple of days. But then, at work on Friday morning I was in a bit of a daze, not paying much attention at all to anything, and I happened to click on the link to the school website. Overnight, "Accepted" had appeared in lovely red letters next to two of my three choices (nevermind, film is impossible to get in to). I realised then what a daze I'd been in. I was jolted upright and without thinking spat out "what the hell!" Then immediately closed the window and appologized to my coworkers so they wouldn't ask me what was up. I ran out to the front and jumped up and down in front of my good co-worker (the one who knows I'm going, and knows how it's been waiting for a response) and hissed "I got accepted to York!". I realised my hands were shaking and I was nearly tearing up. We went around the corner of the room to talk in private and he shook my hand and I jumped up and down. I looked around the room and realised that it was all over. Soon I would no longer have to stare at these same walls, walk down these same damn corridors ever again. And I realised how badly I've wanted to go. Thrilling, I tell you, thrilling!