Tag Archives: Canadians

All quiet on the Stoneclough front

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It’s the calm before the storm.  They arrive tomorrow morning.  I am prepared and ready to do battle with my introvert tendencies; I can deal with the exhaustion in a week.  The thing about living on your own and having a routine, and being an introvert, and slightly high on the autism spectrum, and a bit miserable… is that spending time with others for any length of time really does take it out of you.  It’s difficult for some people to understand this; some people thrive on the company of others, get a little stir-crazy if they’re not around people for any length of time.  For me though, apart from my time at work, I don’t have that much contact with people and, well, I actually quite like that.

April though, she is very special to me and her company is so uplifting, so very easy.  I do joke about fancying her, she’s an attractive woman in all senses, but my affection for her is grounded in her being one of the best friends I’ve ever had.  She has provided some of my best times over the past nine or so years; she has supported me through some of my toughest times.  She has encountered devastation and loss herself, but always, she is April.

I am very lucky to know her and I’m certain those words would be said by everybody who has been fortunate enough to know her.  I’m so happy that she’s taken the time out to come over to visit me.   I feel extremely privileged.

Sacha, on the other hand.  Well, the jury is out on that one, but eight years is a long time and there is a huge difference between a three year old and an eleven year old.  I’m looking forward to seeing her again, it’s going to be… interesting.

Anxiety levels were a little high earlier on as I scoured Morrison’s for inspiration as to what to feed two jet lagged visitors tomorrow.  I went for fruit, cheese and crisps.  And coffee.  I’ll let them decide what they want when they get here.  Needless to say, they’ll want feeding seal cub wellington at 2am, but they’ll have to settle for a kebab.  Oh GOD! That just autocorrected to kabob – must’ve known I was referring to feeding North Americans.  

Twots.

 

Dogatitis

The dog is barking his head off.  His skin has flared up again and he shouts to tell the world that he’s not happy about being itchy.  And there’s nothing I can do to help him.  He has his medicated baths and his flea treatments, but this is just how he gets at this time of year.  It’s desperately sad to witness, but more than that, his incessant barking and scratching and nipping is fucking irritating to the point that I want to kill him.

SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!

Friendship long distance

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She’s arriving tomorrow morning. I should be asleep as I’m picking her up from the airport at 8am, but I’m a bit too excited.

I’ve “known” April for over seven years now. We first encountered each other because of the “next blog” feature on either mine or her blog. Hers was an online account of things she observed in her daily life as a young mum in British Columbia – called simply “Pissoff”, she liked pear cider, but didn’t get enough of it, and she had little time for short men. Mine was also an online account of my daily life, but mixed with the sometimes surreal hypothesising of parallel encounters where I actually opened my mouth and told people what I thought of them, or even acted on my desires to maim those who crossed me. I think the election of the new pope and his resemblance to Ann Widdecombe had something to do with April Pissoff commenting for the first time. Or maybe it was Ryan the catholic (“Bravo!”) whom I’d torn to shreds after he decided, unwisely, to make a comment about about gays being cursed and destined to eternal damnation.

I guess you had to be there.

Over the course of a few months in 2005 there grew a friendly band of like-minded people who shared a creativity with words, pictures and graphics. In a strange sort of way, we got to know each other through our virtual lives; there’s a brutal honesty that comes through when people write about stuff on the internet, even if it is something as mundane as Coffeemate.

So it came to pass that I became more comfortable relating my thoughts to people I’d never met than those who were part of my real life – nothing new there – but I struck up a close bond with that woman from Vancouver Island and it only took one invitation for me to book my flight over there to visit in the summer of 2006.

She popped over in 2008 with Mish-Mash (who John Pigster joked “used to be a man”).

And then there was also the Vegas trip of 2009, where I travelled alone and met up with April and her friend for a few days, enjoying the museums and galleries in that cultural capital of Nevada.

It’s odd that somebody who you only meet on a small number of occasions can be counted as a genuine good friend, but the internet is a great ice breaker when you’re a bit nerdy and shy.

I wish I could promise the bright lights and excitement of Vegas during the next couple of days, but I can’t – this is Bolton. I have, however, fixed my security light in her honour and there’ll be food, wine, laughter and the odd Coast Salish death stare to put me in my place.

The proceedings may see me increasing my credit limit to allow for an Italian road trip next spring. And what the hell if it does? Life is made up of experiences; spend more time with those who love you and who you love and, on balance, it’ll be great.