Back in the River

I'm sitting at my parent's kitchen table sorting through photographs of palm trees and sunny beaches, while the residue of an early snowfall melts into the earth outside. I have been meaning to update this space for a while now with a tale or two from New York, my sentiments about moving back in with my parents at 23, and my plans for the near future. However, every time I come close to knowing the later, something changes with the effect of blurring upcoming days. I have now resigned myself to planning only one morning at a time and leaving the afternoon open for some random job interview or a last minute flight to Ottawa (I'm waiting to hear back from CIDA about a short contract in their Canadian Partnerships Branch.)

About living with my parents, my dad has recently retired from his medical practice and both my parents have taken a more holistic approach to their well-being. It's now not uncommon around here to come across dad watching meditation videos in his underwear (in all honesty, the underwear is nothing new) nor for mum to talk about the relationship between core strength and her sciatic nerve injury as she leaves for yogalates. To be fair, I came home blabbering about how animal protein causes cancer and went to my own yoga practice this morning. I don't know what is more horrifying, realizing that I'm as weird as my parents, or that my parents are as weird as me. One good thing to come of this new focus on health is that the sauna is no longer used to store Mike Brown's crap (he recently moved out on his own, the big guy) and is now fully operational.

New York was crowded, dirty and full of rude assholes. But underneath all that is a city where you can do absolutely anything at any time of day. A definite highlight of the trip to NY was the Cirque Du Soleil performance we saw called "Wintuk," about a snotty nosed brat who wanted to see it snow. I really did enjoy the costumes and set and it was impressive to see how elements of circus performance were blended into the storyline. Matt lives in Spanish Harlem with two roommates and this bundle of joy named Cookie Monster.
I guess this concludes what really felt like two separate trips, one by bike down the west coast and another to New York City to see Matt. I am now in state of flux something like Nirvana or Purgatory...