strike that

501 french verbs abandoned

I guess it all started in March when I was going to go to Laos.

I mean, I wasn’t going to GO to Laos until August, but I was thinking about it in March.

So I i.m.ed Frenchie my Quebecois backpacking friend whom I met in an Istanbul hostel in 1999. Because he’d been to Laos, and maybe he had advice.

His advice was: “Get a job and a boy/girlfriend.”

He then recommended himself.

So I went to Quebec for a week, and we ate borek and sang power ballads and had a movie-montage sort of time, and one week became three weeks. And he lobbied for me to come back. And hell, I was finishing grad school and it was maybe my last “summer break” for a while and 2006 is, after all, the Year of Faith and Bravery. So I went. And here I am.

And it’s been three days, and I’m leaving.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m not staying here. Sometime since March Frenchie changed the channel from Bravo to Hallmark, so now instead of upbeat foreign adventures we are having High Emotional Drama, which is just not my genre. Especially since said Drama is happening entirely within his head, and being expressed to me only via vague mood projections in the style of a high school boyfriend who doesn't want to hurt your feelings but clearly wants Out. He is worried that if he starts to like me too much it will lead to something complicated, or else he is worried that I like him too much, or else he is worried that I don’t know what and I don’t much care. Hello, and Welcome to Being Thirty. Do try to get your shit together, will you? I fucking flew across the country.

So while this blog was going to be about my temporary life in Canada, it is now going to be about… something else. I’ll keep you posted.

posted by tortaluga @ 11:00 AM