Hornby Island

This is picture was taken on Hornby Island. Brad and I rented a cabin and also camping for a night while visiting this Island and it's brother, Denman Island. It was an awesome vacation. Very meditative and relaxing.

Enjoy.

I went to Sombrio Beach this weekend. We hiked along the ocean, climbed down mountain cliffs using ropes and ladders, walked through some old growth forest, and finally walked across a twenty story suspension bridge.

Life doesn't get any better.

I don’t know how to begin this one. In fact, I’m not even sure if I want to begin telling you what has happened. I do want everyone to know that I can’t wait for the summer and I plan on buying a bike rack and doing tons of camping and exploring.

The second thing I want to tell everyone is that I am in love with Brad. He’s a great guy, and, yeah, we have a few things to work on (mostly figuring out the sexual part of things) but regardless, I want to let everyone know how lucky and privileged I am to have met such a great guy.

I am still a little shocked about it all. I’m getting over it and really working on opening my heart to him. I’m not afraid anymore. In fact, I now understand what it’s like to have someone in my life that treats me the way people should be treated. I no longer want an emotionally unavailable guy who treats me poorly. I want to be with Brad, a guy who is totally into me, who cares about me, and who I know will respect me and make me smile for the rest of my life.

Ok, I’m being a little dramatic.

The new guy...

hill, originally uploaded by copeseticnature.

I remember a time when the city was full of architects and debutantes.

Brad and I are going strong. And yeah, I know, I won’t be writing every blog about this guy. I just want to let everyone see the good things in my life also. Most of the time I rant and I am judgmental, critical, dissatisfied; really I’m not though.

We were lying in bed last night and all I can do now is smile and look into his eyes. He smiles back and I start to get the ‘butterfly effect’. If you asked me how this would have played out six weeks ago, I would have told you I’m going to fuck around for a week or two and it’s over. Cause I’m not the settling type.

And here I am. I don’t want to mess around with anyone else. I am really turned on by the guy and my weekends involve planning things with him. We have our Sunday’s together – it’s common knowledge, and if we were to miss a Sunday, I would worry.

I have been saying some nice things to the guy. I first asked him what kind of guys he responds to; guys that treat him poorly and are emotionally unavailable or guys that are affectionate and kind? He picked the latter; I’m glad because it’s the way I generally am when I am into someone.

I told him that I enjoyed his company and with him all my problems and stresses disappear. I also comment on how handsome I found him and relayed the fact that I do ‘Like him”. I can’t say the other words. I am afraid of the response if I told him everything I am feeling. It’s too soon. One day.

Let me tell you all something. I’m a little scared. In fact, I’m terrified that I am going to fall for this guy and one day, he will get sick of me, or hell, he’ll cheat. I know he’s not like that though. I know a winner when I see one. But still, I think because of my earlier relationships with men, I am not used to dealing with someone who is actually an upstanding person. I’m not used to dealing with someone that treats me like a person. I’ll have to play it out. I mean, what’s the point of going through life without taking chances?

I can see a lot of things with us. I can see us settling into some small community and living a rather slow-pace life. I want some kids, a nice garden, and maybe start up our own business, travel a little…anyway, I’m over thinking things.

I’m seeing a new guy and he’s great. That’s all we both need to know.

I can't take my eyes off of you

I think I'm falling for him.

My Imagination

What's the immaterial substance
that envelopes two,
that one perceives as hunger
and the other as food.

I wake in tangled covers,
to a sash of snow,
you dream in a cartoon garden,
I could never know.

Innocent imitation,
of how it could be,
if when the music ended,
you did not retreat.

In my imagination,
you are cast in gold,
your image a compensation for me to hold.

Parallel lines, move so fast,
toward the same point,
infinity is as near as it is far.

Parallel lines, move so fast,
toward the same point,
infinity is as near as it is far.

Life, man

Living is breathing full, opening your eyes to the world around you and not wasting time on the trivial things. It’s standing tall, full of conviction with thought provoking ideas and a smile that isn’t limited to a particular time and place.

Living is going to bars with strangers who know as much about you as you know about them. Living is dressing with zest, owning art, eating good meals. Living is pretending you know what you’re doing when you don’t know anything for certain and what you do know seems to be changing all the time. Living isn’t about a plan, it’s about an ideal.

Living is knowing when to quit. It’s knowing when to call your bluff and take a plunge into the unknown. Living is about being everything you can be, and, the best you can be no matter who or what is stopping you. Living is knowing your wants and needs. It’s filling Maslow’s hierarchy to the nth degree.

My hand is numb today, numb to the pain; the throbbing muscle in my carpel that seems to be getting worse. My fingertips are vibrating and my right hand is usually purple in the mornings. I keep thinking it’s going to get better. I’m an optimist! It’s not. It’s only going to get worse. One day, when I least expect it, it’s not going to be better and I will have to make the pilgrimage into the doctors office and request the snip.

There was a time when my hand was fully functional. It was before I started working and realizing that life is about entrapment. Life is about taking a person so full of promise, so full of expectation and love for the world around him, and putting that person in situations where he no longer has a choice. We have to beat them down. We have to manage and control, we have to take the people who grow up with promise and let them know that it was just a dream.

Living is rolling with the punches. It’s letting people take advantage, or even letting people lie outright and noy even skipping a beat when you find out. It’s about shedding all the moral righteousness that people wear on their sleeves. It’s about seeing past everything and finding a place that no longer affects. It’s about become cold and numb to the nuiances in life and becoming totally selfish and absorbed in your own pleasures.

The real world is a nightmare and as much as we want to wake up, as much as we want to acknowledge that this is just temporary – “I’ll work for a couple more years, save up, then I will do the things I want” – it’s just a dream. It’s hope that we all have; hope that we hold on to; we want purpose. It’s ok though if you are content. Obviously I have given it much more thought as you.

I want to live. I want to consume as many positive things as possible. I want to meet as many interesting people as I can. I want to smile constantly, live life to the fullest, pass each day knowing that I did as much as I could and it’s not lost. It’s never lost in my eye. I want to be surrounded with color, compassion, love; I want everything. I want my soul to be filled constantly with no downtime.

Want destroys perspective. I know I want too many things. It’s been with me all my life; I think it’s because I missed out on so much when I was younger. I was too patient, I was too timid, and I didn’t find strength and conviction until a much later age. I think I was 23 before I snapped out of it. It being everything in my line of sight, everything in my life. I didn’t see until a much later age, you know. And now that I see the beautiful, the promise, I want so much more.

I am in my office and looking from office to office, noticing my co-workers. I feel sorry for them, caged up so. Some are young and full of energy. They are fresh out of school with a “I will succeed attitude”. They want it so bad and they haven’t been in the working world long enough to see. They haven’t lived their lives. And, yeah, I know I am projecting. I haven’t lived my life. I am totally being a hypocrite as I sit here and judge them. Sometimes I feel as if this is all I know and will ever know. As much as I complain I have this great fear that five years down the road I will be doing the same thing: critiquing everyone but myself.

I feel anxious about succeeding in a mediocre world and I’d rather live.

Relationships and worries

I used to be afraid of the dark, even until my later teen years. I would stumble home on a Friday or Saturday night and head downstairs to my bedroom. The whole time I would think about the monsters lurking in the dark, some unknown presence that could jump out and grab me and pull me away to its dark lair.

As I have gotten older, I no longer fear the demons in the dark but I want to be clear about this: I do have demons. I think they prevent me from getting close to people. They are my guards. They are the reason why I am so adamant about not falling in love or being in a relationship. They tell me I am better off alone.

I am fighting my demons so I can still be with Brad. It is a difficult struggle and I am constantly fighting my mind to rid myself of the doubt, or the strength I accumulated after my last devastating break up. Regardless, it’s happening, although I can’t measure it; I am in a different place right now and the future will only tell where it will lead me.

As I head out this weekend and enjoy St. Paddy’s Day. I can’t help but notice all the men – the majority straight – guys who are around. They are clad in the usual dress, and once or twice I manage to strike up some conversation.

One guy in particular approaches me at a small pub Brad and I went to. He tells me he’s bi and would love to fool around with myself and a girl. I flirt a little; he flirts back, and then behold, Brad steps forward to end our fun.

He tells me it’s because he thought the guy was being rude. The funny thing is, I really don’t mind. When he stepped in between us and had a talk with the other guy I was smiling. Normally I would be profoundly upset, but this act actually made me like him more. He was jealous although he didn’t admit it.

The past few weeks have been a trip. I have been very open to spending my time with one guy. We have cooked dinners together, went for hikes, watched movies, and even smoked a little pot.

He makes me laugh. He makes me a little jealous. He turns me on to no degree. I am asking myself why I don’t love him. Why I can’t – after 6 weeks – be totally and utterly smitten with this dude. Victoria’s number one bachelor and still nothing…well, there is something, but it’s not the unbridled passion I seek.

It’s for the best, I guess. I don’t want to be one of those people. I don’t want to fall into the trap of being head over hills. I like still having my wits about me. But oh, how I miss that romance; how I miss the gripping, uncontrolled, tumultuous passion I once had.

There is only one thing left to do. Play it out. Maybe I will find this same passion but in a different way. Maybe I’ll never find that passion again? Maybe I’m getting old and I really can’t be as picky as I once was. I still have my looks, and I have so much more, but how long will it last?

I see so many old and haggard gay men who troll it up at the gym. They walk through the bushes at parks, and they pick up hitchers, hang out in hot tubs and hot springs, and walk the local hiking trails.

They are everywhere. It’s so strange, you know. How five years ago I could go to these places and be oblivious to it all; now, it’s all I can see. I can smell them, sense their eyes raping my body, and, their desperation.

I don’t want to be an old troll and if it means finding something that is close to passion, which never equals what I once had, so be it. Besides, I don’t even like hot tubs.

Can't feel a thing...

When did I realize that everything I ever knew in this world was false?

I’m 28 now.

I’m single – business as usual if you ask me.

And, I’m living the American Dream. Accumulation, wealth, material possessions, cars, good careers; God, when will it change?

I think most people are ok with it. I think I should be ok, but I’m not. If anything I am getting worse. I find myself wanting to retreat more and more and my mind is fantasizing about something more romantic. That’s why I write, I want to secretly be a great writer, or photographer, or join some sort of green peace organization where I travel the world empowering people with purpose.

I want more….

I’m seeing a guy named Brad now. It’s been close to a month and this is – on record – one of the longest relationships I have had. We don’t just spend a couple of hours together; we spend weekends together.

Brad makes me laugh; Brad makes me smile; Brad makes me realize that no matter how great someone can be, I still don’t think I’m capable of being in love again. And, trust me, if I were to be in love it would be with someone like Brad. He has everything I want in a guy…

I think some people are destined to live a different live. Not everyone is family material. I dream of the white picket fence with children, PTA meetings, soccer practice, but I don’t see a partner in my life when I live that life. I can raise children on my own and I don’t feel as if I need the family unit to do so.

This weekend I’m heading down to the naval recruiting office to fill out an application. I have my transcripts, which I will have to dig around for, and I think I am ready to do something completely different in my life.

Soon I’ll be 30…

A Tree

You're dead to me

I have had my first taste of gay drama! Oh God, how I loath the word drama. I want to give you two sides of the story, and then, you can form whichever opinion you want.

How I loath the word drama. So many people use it. Drama! I associated the word with really bad pop music and the gay culture. Everyone is screwing everyone else over, and in our culture, it can be taken literally and metaphorically. I am in one of the most competitive sub-cultures out there.

My roommate Sandy, who I think is a complete a-hole, is hanging out with my on Valentine’s Day. We’re having some wine and I proceed to point out a guy on my MSN that I am talking to. He leans in, takes a look at the picture, mentions he’s cute and then goes in his room for a bit.

An hour later, Sandy reappears telling me that he’s know this guy for a few days, but he didn’t want to say anything, and that the guy proposed sex, and blah blah blah. In other words, Sandy wanted me to stay away from him. So fair enough, he lied about knowing him…

The next day I decide to talk to my online buddy and I mentioned that he knows my roommate. Now, I get a completely different story. He tells me Sandy added him the night before – the night I point him out – and that Sandy tells him that he got his MSN from my computer.

To make the story even worse, Sandy is the guy who asks him for sex, and he even goes so far as to point out the fact that he is better looking then I am. All the while, I am sitting in my room… I had no idea someone could do something so devious. And, he even has the gull to come back to my room and make up a story, lie to me, and expect me to believe it. I’m not a stupid guy…

The first thing I want to talk about is who is better looking…haha. I have to. I can’t help it. I have been with a lot of hot guys, in fact, some of them – including my ex’s – have gotten to meet Sandy, and they find him gross. He’s a hairless, fake tanned, overly feminine Toronto boy with a nasty attitude. I think you get the picture…

Secondly, I was warned about Sandy. I have caught Sandy talking behind my back, telling people that I was after ‘his men’ and was talking to people online that he was interested in. From a psychological point of view, he is projecting. The only men I have seen this guy with were people I have already had dealings with. There is no competition; we are two completely different people. He’s gross, man.

Third, my gut feeling tells me to believe the guy online. He has no reason to lie, and judging from my past encounters with my roommate, I think there are a lot of issues he has to work out. He’s talked about me, he’s lied to me, and I have caught him lying to other people as well.

I was so angry yesterday. I yelled at him, slammed a door, and he hasn’t been back sense. I know he’s guilty and now we need to have a talk about how people should respect their roommates. I have been nothing but good. Seriously! But now, it’s over. He will see how I am with people I dislike. I want him out. I want the energy in my home to return to normal, because it’s dirty and depressing right now with this leach around.

I have heard the word Drama about 40 times this week. I think I'm going to pretend to like women for now on...

Wayfaring Stranger

Bricks, originally uploaded by copeseticnature.

I am a poor wayfaring stranger
A-traveling thru this world below
But there's no sickness, toil, or danger
In that bright land to which I go
I'm going there to see my Father
I'm going there no more to roam
I'm just a-going over Jordan
I'm just a-going over home

I am a poor wayfaring stranger
A-traveling thru this world below
But there's no sickness, toil, or danger
In that bright land to which I go
I'm going there to see my mother
She said she'd meet me when I come
I'm just a-going over Jordan
I'm just a-going over home
I'm just a-going over home

We get no second chance in this life

It’s Valentine’s Day.

My car has starter issues and I had to ask a friend of mine, who I have known for four years, to bring me home from work. I work with him and know his wife also. It seems like he has seen my life progress since I have arrived in Victoria.

Yesterday he told me he’s getting a divorce. Everything in his life, for the past seven years, has been a lie. They are both at this cross roads where neither of them knows who they are…We talk about this on the twenty five minute drive home and on the drive to work today.

What can I say? We’re all trying to figure it out. It’s a shock to see a couple, who I assumed to be solid, dissipate. Now they will have to explore the world again, fresh eyes, new intentions, and, it could be exciting or it could be the thing that brings them back to one another.

It’s not uncommon to divorce and share custody of a child. I am not worried at all, because I too am a product of a home that split apart, and fortunately back together again after a few years.

Its life, you know? We’re all just trying to figure it out. Sometimes people reach an age where they start questioning their existence, combined with the onslaught of issues of the future: the global economy, global warming, population increases, and the world of greed. I am bringing it up because it’s the same things we talked about yesterday. The world is dying and it’s changing the way we view our lives.

I know most people think we’ll be ok, but in twenty years when we start hitting the reserves, it won’t be. I won’t bother investing in real estate and I would think twice about RRSPs; I think you should start thinking about how to survive, maybe take a few courses on self-survival.

I think we need to start learning how to grow organic foods (crops), learning how to live off the hand, learn how to be human again, learn how to build shelters and heal ailments.

I don’t want to mix doomsday with Valentine’s Day but they are related. Flowers are being shipped all around the world this week for spouses, girlfriends, even boyfriends; this is done by plane and this contributes to our world problems.

If someone asks why you didn’t buy them flowers this holiday tell them you no longer want to contribute to the world’s destruction. Start talking about it. You have to. Time is running out friends.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Lazy

“I know why he’s not standing... he’s lazy!”, my instructor spells it out to me, 45 minutes into the class, after I have did everything in my power to please her.

Not only did she call me lazy, she does so in front of twenty other people, half of which will never try this class again. I turn red; I am embarassed, but I direct all the negative energy towards my legs, towards the bike, and use it as fuel.

“I was spinning four times last weekend! I’m not lazy,” as I stand up one last time to do the last five minutes of class.

My legs are sore, in pain, it’s not because I’m lazy. In fact, I was pushing the hardest in this class. I am sweating the most. I have put a hundred and ten percent into this class, and what? I’m fucking lazy.

It’s good to be motivated. And, yeah, I made the mistake of asking this crazy, pregnant lady to push me when she sees me slacking off. It’s totally my fault.

I push my towel over the tension on the bike so she can no longer keep tabs on me and my eyes go to the floor. I’m infuriated and want to prove to her that I can do it.

Selfish Pricks

The day breaks and everything is new…

I want a hybrid so I can scowl at people driving their SUVs and 4x4 trucks. I even feel like rolling down my window and giving them the finger while screaming "Wake up you retarded assholes!". I'm even tempted to spit at them. I need to do something, my conscience is giving me a hard time as of late.

The glaciers are retreating; even George Bush is starting to push for environmental changes, yet still the number of selfish people in the world increases. The temperature of the world is increasing, evasive species are now making a come back because of shorter seasons and climate change, diseases that were once controller (West Nile, Bird Flu, etc) will become more and more common. Where do we draw the line? When does it stop? When is enough, enough?

When I was in Calgary with Christa, I think back to dinner on night; I watched her open can after can and then proceed to throw everything I consider recyclable into the garbage. I was shocked. I mean, I recycle everything, including the more menial things, and as I watch the garbage fill up with waste, I ask her if she has a recycling program in Calgary.

“Yeah we do, but it’s a lot of effort…” she responds already visibly pissed.

She considers me a hippie. I am Green because I acknowledge the fact that our world will be destroyed if we don’t take action. I am because I attend green rallies and drive an energy efficient car, I hang my clothes to dry, I recycle, I am generally concerned and very passionate about the world I live in.

Driving to work today I look at all the vehicles around me. Gas guzzling machines with owners who choose to buy these beasts because they are selfish. Do you need a 4x4 truck in Victoria BC? To what, pick up groceries? I question their motives.

Why on Earth would anyone throw things you can recycle into the garbage when we have a recycling program that picks everything up at your doorstep once every two weeks? We have landfill after landfill filled with things that will never biodegrade. We could build an entire city over these wasted pieces of land.

There is this quest for adulthood in today’s society. We are measured by what we own, how we dress, how much real estate we own, and of course the size of our pocket book is very important. I think we are moving in the wrong direction. I can’t believe how people who are engrossed in the media and commercialism could be converted so easily.

So I have all these questions; I have all these problems with the world we live in. And, if I voice them I am judged, for the most part, unless I can find people on the same page. They should be the first to go. I want them eaten up by deadly flu viruses, and I want their bodies thrown into landfill next to all the products they refused to recycle, and in the end, I want the world rid of these diseased minds.

Grow up people. It's happening.

...

Why wouldn't I be trying to figure it out?

Lights

I'm traveling on a bus - I was 10, I think - after a student trip to Gander. We were all bussed in for the weekend for the Royal Conservatory Music Festival, where classes form choirs and compete, where young gay men are forced to share beds with their peers. I am hit with this great paranoia after spending the weekend in Gander.

My friends have distance themselves on the bus, and I am thinking back to the night before where I had to share a bed. Did I do something in my sleep? Did I give away the very thing I have been trying to hide since I hit puberty?

The world keeps flashing before my eyes. I am prone to these long boughs of depression, already at the age of eleven or twelve, and I know if it keeps up, if I don't resolve it, it will forever own me. Even at this age, I already have a few enemies and I am already an adult. I have them and they know me well. It's not because I am a homosexual, although I think it is; I think they know who I truly am. And I see one of them passing around notes.

I think the notes are about me. I think the enemy who I have shared a hotel room has finally discovered the truth and is passing around notes about me - he's outing me with little to no respect for my feelings. And I sink. It's apparent. The children around me see it and they ask "What's wrong?"

In my bought of paranoia, I even see a few kids look at the notes being passed around, then look at me, and whisper to one another that it is truly "a sin", which in Newfoundland dialects means "I feel sorry for you".

I'm sure it was something stupid. Like, a note saying "Charlie has nice glasses" or something along those lines. It's wasn't about me being gay. Although, in my mind, it was always about being gay. I have always struggled with it, and this is a small example of what I had to go through.

After that trip, and the two hour ordeal, I head home, crawl into my bed - it's four in the evening - and my mind is racing. I haven't had to deal with it in such a long time, but thinking back it was awful. It was so consuming I couldn't even function. My mother would visit and worry and I could only reply "I'm tired mom".

You see, just because I could pass, doesn't mean it was any easier for me. If anything, it was the most horrible experience of my life. I didn't have a city to hide myself in, or explore in, I had a small outpost community with nothing to look forward to. I had the worst despair you could possible imagine, the worst yearning, the worst case of depression I have ever experienced in my life.

It wasn't short term; it was from the age of eight right up until I left for BC. It was fifteen years. A lifetime. Don't ever say I can't relate, or I don't understand…

Horses

I rode a horse this weekend and was labeled as a natural. Do you know how good that feels? I mean, I knew I would be a great horse rider; I could just tell that as soon as I sat on a horse I would know what to do. We have this psychic connection, you know? It's as if the horse knew I was a good guy and decided to let me take control.

I spent this Saturday helping out on a farm. My downstairs neighbor Alice invited me to go out and I decided to go - spur of the moment of course. When I arrived, the first thing I noticed was the view; they live on a massive farm with the mountains in Washington as the backdrop. All I could see was the rolling hills of grass and farmland mixed with a mountainous range that still retain elements of snow.

The second thing I noticed was the abundance of women. The farm was filled with about eight or nine women working together, communicating, being emotional, and looking great - I guess that's what women do. A few were lipstick lesbians sporting low cut shirts, with breasts, long flowing hair, smiles; they were gods, Amazonian wonders. And I was shy for the first time in a very long time. I was out of my element and I think considered shy and uneventful.

At first - because I am now assuming this is a lesbian dude ranch - they were a bit taken aback by seeing me. I am sure I was labeled as the straight guy who was checking out Becky's jugs. I was a little apprehensive and picked up on the energy at the ranch. They were definitely guarded towards me and I knew right then and there society still has a lot of differences we don't see outright.

My daily chores consisted of digging out a trench to redirect some water, digging another trench to hide some wiring - note: I was digging horse hit, and also setting up a watering area and redirecting a hose. One of the women on the farm wanted to make it clear that she was a lesbian. I guess, maybe, they thought I was really into all the hot chicks working the farm, but I then quickly responded, "Yeah, I know, I'm gay, and it's no big deal". Her eyes lit up and a smile appears on the corners of her mouth.

The delightful part of the conversation was seeing how a lesbian's demeanor can change. In fact, it was delightful seeing how all the women responded to me after I was ousted. They smiled, they hugged, and I was now openly accepted into this environment of women who were initially guarded. I was one of the girls!

Later in the day, after all the chores were completed, I dress up as a jockey. I have the hat, a pair of farm jeans and boots, and I proceed to take this large white pony out on the tracks. From first seeing the horse I could tell he was shy. He was nervous around me initially and would look away when I addressed him. I could also tell he was stubborn.

Riding him was great although whenever the other horses came around he would disobey me and follow the pack. They are pack animals and it's something inbreed. I think I need to be more forceful with him to relay the point that I am the master. So I grab a stick - I don't' hurt him - but he knows I have a stick which accidentally grazed him once and caused him to jump.

There is nothing more rewarding then riding a great beast that has survived throughout the ages. I was propped up in the air, feeling like a giant, and watching the beauty that surrounded me with tranquility. This will be one of the times in my life when I can look back and smile.

We rode for a while and I think I developed a relationship with this unknown. I want to ride horses again and work on the farm. I want to learn how to be a farm hand because who knows what the future will hold. I may just have to revert back to that style of living once global warming completely destroys our environment. I might as well cover all the bases, I think.

Vacations...

After a recently dismissed vacation I now have a plane ticket to anywhere in Canada or the United States. Initially, I had a ticket to Florida to accompany my parents, but, it turns out my workmate booked time before me so I am stuck.

I know, I know, I would have been real keen on staying in a resort village, attending Disney World and other money grabbing intuitions that keep Florida going, and oh, the arguing, how I will miss the tears, the sun stroke, the competing to get other family members on your side. I will miss it all but right now I have a ticket to worry about.

The last time I was in Florida with my parents – 2003, I believe – we had a few major arguments and I remember my last words to them: “Hear me well; I will NEVER EVER go on another family vacation with you crazy fucks again”. I said it. It’s true. The whole point of vacation is to go and relax but when a redneck from Georgia becomes your best friend at the local resort bar while you share Sam Adams beers, you know you’re in trouble.

Yeah, I was pissed at first. In fact, I wanted to hunt down my work mate and have an all out confrontation but now I see the light. I now have control over my destiny and my precious two weeks will not be planned out by my overbearing father. I have the power.

When I phoned to cancel the ticket, which was under my name, they gave me two options:

A) Cancel the ticket and send a refund (the amount paid in taxes because it was an aero plan ticket) to my father.

B) Take back your life, regain control; cancel the ticket and leave it in your name. Note: if you choose this option your father may find out and start another argument. There is a fifty five dollar rebooking charge, period.

It was tough deciding what to do. The ticket was my Christmas and Birthday gift – although it was a bit grand – but I feel as if it’s still mine.

I’m thinking I’ll head back to Newfoundland. I mean, it’s what I really wanted to do in the first place when I found out we weren’t going to St. Pete’s or Miami and my father cheeped out and rented a condo in the fucking resort trap we call Orlando outskirts. I will go home and see ALL of my family. It will no longer be inclusive and I will get to revisit my past. My home. I haven’t seen my nephew, sister, brother, mother, aunts, uncles, grandparents in over three years. I think this is a no brainer.

I’m thinking April. I’m thinking I will rent a hot car, visit the fishing village I grew up in as an ousted gay male, and have a fun time with it. I hope to get into at least one bar fight, open a bottle of beer with my molars, have sex with a guy I always questioned, and not give two fucks about what other people think about me. The community will be tense and I relish in the chance to be there experiencing it.

After they chase me out with pitchforks I will proceed to a few more small towns where my relatives live, then, off to St. John’s for a weekend of partying in a city. I’m going to take my sister and Nephew and put them up in a hotel. The nights will be reserved for me…I don’t care what she has to say about it. I need to get laid at least once on this holiday.

So I’m excited. I’m glad everything fell through. I’m glad my co-worker booked around the same time I did – knowing full well I already had a vacation planned in Easter.

Sweet