A Positive Moment.
Booze and conversation about movies, including one called "Fingersmith" (apparently meaning "seamstress", however it has a double meaning which I will allow you, my hypothetical non-existent reader to figure out for yourself) from BBC, and it was time for food.
Later that night, while stepping out to find a place to dance, the snow began to fall, large wet flakes which cooled on our faces.
Growing up, I always meant to leave this place. High school, I had plans; I'd move to another country. I'd go somewhere with a language so different than any of the ones I knew just so I could experience culture shock, and the appealing challenge of learning another language while surrounded by it, rather than learning it in a class room. Things rarely work out the way you mean them to and I am still here.
If I hadn't been, I never would have had the opportunity for a night like last night. Over time, I've learnt that my hatred and boredom of this city were manufactured out of all the things I knew about it, and really, all the things I didn't. I lived in a place that fit me poorly, the suburbs, and then later, more suburbs as my boyfriend-then-husband-then-ex, insisted on his hatred of the city, even of the places where we finally chose, which frankly: oh honey, you weren't in the city at all.
Now, living in a heritage building with high ceilings in the middle of one of the yuppiest neighbourhoods, I love this city. The diner on my block has waiters who know my name, and remember that I went on vacation and ask me how it was. I sometimes go to a restaurant and have a drink bought for me by the owner of a business I frequent. I am surrounded by high, old trees and unique buildings and people who look out for each other and businesses run locally. I can walk everywhere I need except for work.
Lately, I've been spending a lot of time feeling downtrodden. I hate my job (sorry, job!), I hate my lack of options, my lack of upward mobility. I hate the way it feels relentless, just one moment after another after another, with only brief breaks in between where I try desperately to rest up and prepare myself for the next five days.
(slightly dramatic: but dude, my blog, I get to be dramatic. Also: IT REALLY IS KIND OF CRAPPY, k?)
Sometimes, I have trouble appreciating what I've got, and this is it: I live in a place I love in a neighbourhood I love. I have friends who care for me, for whom I care. I have music, the opportunity to play it, and the chance to get feedback on it.
It's probably a good thing for me to remember that from time to time. This is me, sharing that moment with (the non-existent) you.