how do you change a tire? do you EVEN know HOW?

I was in need of counsel; real, no-bullshit counsel. So I sought the advice of the coldest of the cold, asked for assistance from the iciest being I know.

"Lake Ontario," I said, alone on the beach save for a couple far down on the other side making out in the lifeguard stand. "I feel lonely and sad and scared all the time, and I don't feel like anyone or anything can help me."

The lake was a loud listener, gushing freezing blasts of waves that receded with harsh hisses, but a listener nonetheless.

"I mean, I don't know. I kinda feel like a big fake moron for telling you this," I continued.

Roar, recede. Roar, recede.

"Do you want me to come over there and prove I'm not a wimp?"

Roar.

"Because I will."

Recede.

I rolled up my pant legs and ran into the frigid waters. "Look, Lake Ontario, I'm not afraid to get my feet wet. Ha, ha."

I watched some aeroplanes go by and made some wishes. Only vague things, because wishing for specifics doesn't work.

I looked over my shoulder at the CN Tower in its ugly lit-up glory and wished on it, too.

Then I wished on the dim light of the lifeguard stand.

And then, I said goodbye to my attentive friend and walked home.

"Life is, and is not, a gentle bore."

So:

1. Lying on Vanessa's bed listening to Moonshiner, I ask "Was this your song?"
She answers, with tremendous bravery, "It was his song, I think."

2. Holding hands with a dear dear friend on a wednesday morning, I remembered us doing the same in Saskatoon while an enormous flock of bohemian waxwings took flight the morning after it rained. This felt different, but not jarringly so.

3. Swaying with Vanessa last night while a band from our hometown played at a tiny little country bar, I felt like I was home. Then I started worrying about where home is, if there's more than one, and where I should really be.

4. I finished Microserfs and it was perfect.