Tickets & passport in hand, packed & ready to go. 
Through some window at 3am, I stopped in my tracks upon seeing this arrangement. I felt at peace for about 2 seconds before a group of louts hooted and hollered like barnyard animals in a burning building. They danced upon parked cars and made such fools of themselves. Worse yet, this was the gay neighbourhood of Seattle on a Tuesday night. Not sure I'd like to see the weekend here. Must be something akin to Vancouver's Davie Street cross-dressed into Granville Street. I was confounded by the dichotomy of rudeness and politeness. Americans believe Seattle to be the friendliest and most polite of their cities. Yet when I asked if I could use Canadian dollars at one establishment, I was told by the queeny troll at the cash register, "Honey, this is the United States of America. Why would we accept foreign money?" I minded my tongue, but under my breath I could barely hold back, "Because your currency is worth less every day , sweetheart". Entering the US was typically a stupid ordeal. The border agent was no less pathetic. When asked if I were married, I looked at him like, "Do you really want to know my relationship status? Because I will tell you, but surely you don't want to go into that."
He didn't believe anything I told him and challenged me on every point. What a goon. Like I'd gone to an Al Queda training camp or something. He was, however, kind enough to let me enter the Excited States of América without strip-searching me. That was kind of him.
There was, as it would happen, hardly any pressure to be found, other than to get there at a decent hour. I almost called in sick in order to get there earlier. Luckily I didn't because I got there just in time for the drag show. It was fun and light-hearted. Only 50 or so people showed up. Unsurprising, I knew half of the crowd. Best of all was hearing DJ Quest seamlessly spin a fine variety of remixes to the tunes we endlessly play at the gym. Why he had to keep giving me drink tickets, I'll never know. I paid for it the following morning when I had to be up at 4am, then work at the gym for 8 hours.
Standing on the pierI always enjoy happening across the BF's profile when on the web.
It's like finding an old photo of him - especially when there are photos of him!
He's rather furtive about it all when asked, so I've almost given up asking.
He's somewhat defensive, too. I was even accused of spying on him.
It can't really be spying when I type in the search box for his type,
and there he appears!
His photos are quite innocent compared to mine.
But the 'Flavour: What I'm Into' section is revealing enough.
Sure, there may be pangs of jealousy - but not as much as before.
I do wonder if I stop being jealous altogether will I stop caring for him.
It's impossible to say just how this open relationship will work.
His "I love you" is nice to hear, but falls flat when I see he's incapable of monogamy.
What's weird is coming across someone who knows him.
It's a surprisingly small online world at times.
Need to have a back-up plan.
His resistance to GTalk's voicemail was off-putting at first.
Not wanting to pester him directly, it seemed like the best alternative.
Now it's his preferred way of communicating with me.
Listening to his syrupy messages,
peppered with MSN Messenger chat & online notifications,
I melt as his sweet voice tells all.
You'd think he'd be happy when I called his cellphone or landline.
Too often he isn't and to show that leaves pregnant pauses.
I can never stay silent as long as he does, but I feel obliged to try
Days after opening my most recent online profile, I've decided to hold back from using it or any of the numerous ones I've built up over the years. My mailbox is filling up with ignored notices about new messages, friend requests and X number of hearts received.
I started using online sites to meet guys to C2C with when I spent 6 months on a small island off Newfoundland 3 years ago. Being one of the most unpopulated places in Canada, I took matters into my own hands in front of the webcam with guys from all over the world. Hardly surprising that I'm still in touch with some of them.
But I realised the other day that there are so many people I can meet in person that it seems almost pointless and such a waste of time to be spending so much time wanting to meet yet more people. There are times when travelling that it could be useful to go online, and so when in Beijing I did meet in person one of the cutest & hottest guys online after weeks of email back and forth. But here now in Vancouver, is there really any point to advertising myself?
Should I just keep on sending messages to cute boys telling them how cute they, how sexy their tight bodies are and how nice it would be to meet them for tea? My SO doesn't seem to mind.
Alas, I do mind that he does that. Just for sex. For just sex.
A range of emotions passed over me on seeing this smiling face ... torn away from someone, perhaps, that made him happy enough to smile like that.
I glanced about to see if I could find the other pieces to this puzzle. I heard nothing heard and saw no one.
I may have felt compelled to pick up that ripped up and discarded piece of paper merely because it was unsightly litter, or was there something more to it?
So my pup is at this lake on the Chinese-Russian border.
It must be such a summery feeling - especially if they know the winters.....
Sure can't wait to see the photos!
Float plane on approach to Coal Harbour over Stanley Park. (Click to see full image.)
air everywhere - light work for my heavy duty vacuum cleaner. For whatever reason, I decided last night to trim up the sides a bit and certainly something had to be done about the excess length of hair on my nape. Before I knew it, I had cut a strip of hair along the sides and nape, starting at one temple then running the unguarded clippers all the way along the edge of the hairline to the other temple. I could've taken my time and gradually tapered the hairline in - over lots of time, but I was tired and thought it wouldn't be so bad having a buzz cut again. And I was right! 
Can't decide if
There could be fanfare,
but there isn't
and perhaps there shouldn't.
In the 4 days since Ginger returned to his homeland after 3 years of unbridled Western exposure, i've sampled 4 unique delicacies:
a subtle Japanese 'teshoku' mostly balanced between east & west, eerily coincidental that it should come from the very same kitchen as my Ginger;
a fragrant African drink originally from the Caribbean which successfully took hold in Toronto and is will gain in popularity here on the West Coast with test marketing already underway in our Hollywood North ahead of its LA debut - possibly at the same time Ginger is due there;
a meaty German dish, with distinct Italian seasoning, and oddly Swiss reasoning;
a local hybrid of potato lacking substantially in taste, which surprised me because there was such a thick skin to this variety.
Though the tears have yet to end, the sobbing, thankfully, has.
