the great vancouver escape

I think today contained my Most Awkward Moment of the Year. Not that we’re all that far in, but I don’t recall having one since April of last year, so I’m just going to run with it. It was very simple from an outside perspective. I stood on a doorstep brandishing a cake studded with sparklers and gold candles, lighting them one by one, preparing myself to sing when the door opened. Then, well, the wrong person answered the door, (the wind of which blew out all the candles but for one). Simple – “Happy Birthday to- Not you.” – but not, given all the things a stranger couldn’t know. Eyes anywhere else, my hopeless sentience briefly dropped away long enough to get me up the stairs, then came rushing back. Throat clogged, standing at heart attack and vine, I grasped for mundane things – removing shoes, trying to remember sterile conversation topics – and failed. Eventually I gave up, blew out the remaining candle, put the cake in the kitchen, and wandered the familiar flat like a missing cat, ending up sniffling alone in the den where I used to curl on the couch and pretend I felt safe.

All that and I still feel glad I went. I came home feeling warm with conversation, a canvas bag full of interesting books and a promise of new house-plants. This time, reminded, I will keep in touch.

Of course, that wasn’t the original plan at all. I was meant to work on the North Shore this evening. The idea was to go over, write copy, play web-dev, then simply spend the night, so I could get up and get at it again, but little events kept colliding until they created a sort of time-suck anti-matter, and then I was reminded I’m going to Afrika Bambaataa. Whoops. Guess I’ll just have to get up early.

Time to run off and dance.