I'm brooding and drinking oolong tea. I'm hoping the caffiene will counter the depression somewhat. I just spent the whole day with the Tempests, my mom's side of the family, celebrating my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. We got family pictures taken at a golf course in Langley (a white, Christian, rural-suburban hellhole) and then ate at a buffet. It made me ashamed of my cultural roots, because that's what they are: boring, petty-bourgeois white people eating Sunday brunch at a posh golf course restaurant. That about sums it up. I'm glad I have a brother, and that he was there. We exchanged cynical comments every few minutes to pass the time. The food was mondo unhealthy - you'd think a brunch buffet would at least have a good selection of fruit, but it was just watermelon and cantelope. The cheap bastards. I ate waffles with syrup and whipped cream (along with myriad pasta salads and potatoes in various forms) and then felt thoroughly disgusting afterward.

So fine, it was okay seeing my parents and my brother and everyone because the Tempests aren't really a bad bunch, but then we drove out to my grandparents' house, also in Langley, and lounged about, chatting, forever. To top it all off, God really hates me because I found out the Value Village that is within walking distance of my grandparents' apartment burnt down last week. There is now absolutely no reason for anyone to ever go to Langley again. My brother and I ventured off in search of a Sev. On our way we saw the charred rubble that was once Value Village. I once again cursed Langley's now utterly pointless existence as we passed by. I got some gum at Sev, and we walked back.

My aunt drove me back to Vancouver with her. I was falling asleep because it was hot and I'd eaten too much. She's a nice lady though. It was good to see her.

So yeah. I'm back from New York. If you know me, you've probably already heard the 180-degree turn my life has taken. I've spent the past few days trying to comprehend it. I've been pretty all over the place emotionally, at once happy that I've found someone so incredible and fantastic and smart and damn attractive - it's impossible to describe how happy and excited I am for that, and for all the cool stuff that's to come - and at once feeling sad and alone, trying to be strong and not at all insecure about the void that has suddenly been created in my life. I don't know what else to say about it. I've been listening and singing along to a lot of sad music, writing a lot, and reading Socialism: Utopian and Scientific, which I am thoroughly enjoying. Trying to get on with it, to deal with it.

New York was rad, by the way. I saw: The American Museum of Natural History, the Metropolitan Museum, the Guggenheim, Central Park, Times Square, Bryant Park, Washington Square Park (the site of some incomprehensibly romantic blissful hours), Union Square, FAO Schwartz, the Carnegie Deli (three latkes and two Cokes for 18 dollars, but the atmosphere was fun), the Village, the East Village, Soho, the Chrysler Building, Grand Central Station... and my favorite, Chinatown. It was so huge! And dirty, and crowded. Awesome. I bought two pretty bowls, a mug, and a plate. When I brought the mug home I realized it matches my teapot, because both have fish on them. Bonus. One of the bowls broke when I dropped my backpack on the subway on the way to the airport, which pissed me off, but it's fixable.

It was really hot when we were there, particularly the day Tynan and I spent wandering Manhattan and I got some supernasty blisters on my feet. It was like, 92 degrees that day and I'd eaten some sketchy fruit salad earlier, so I felt kinda sick for the first half of the day. We sat down a lot. But I loved the hot, humid weather. Not only did my hair and skin love it because they're normally pretty dry, but I'd much rather it was hot than cold, in almost every instance. I'd like to live in California.

I miss the New York subways. Filthy, oven-like tunnels and stairways, nasty-smelling air currents and air-conditioned metal cars swishing and lurching by. The subways are so long you can't see from one end to the other. They pull up, screeching, slowing down. You get in, hopefully sit down for a while, chilled by the unnaturally cool air, stopping and starting, the light coming and going. Then you get out, the stinking heat sticking to your skin once again, emerging from the underground, wondering what you just travelled under. I had this mix tape I made for New York that I listened to exclusively on my Manhattan exploits, and whenever Kraftwerk would come on and I was on the subway, I'd suddenly feel this strange harmony, like they wrote the music specifically to be listened to in those exact moments. Particularly the song "Metropolis." I felt like I was in the future.

Staying in Hoboken was cool too, sitting out on the patio of the three-story brownstone that was built in 1880, drinking glass after glass of water and seeing fireflies for the first time. The place we stayed was really, really nice, and nobody spent much time sleeping there. There was too much to do, people to talk to, places to go, things to see. When I was there, I was having intense, life-changing conversations with people. Much drama took place under that roof, both insanely good and heartbreakingly sad. I don't mind Jersey. Most people hate it, but it has its charm. Some of the most violent drivers I've ever seen, for instance. Three-dollar cab rides. Cool old brownstone buildings. Lots of bars. I'd rather live there than Brooklyn, where I stayed the night I arrived and the night before I left. The place I stayed was about ten feet from the subway, which, even at 4am, goes by every 15 minutes or so. And it was unbearably hot, so you could either open the window and hear the constant cacophony of the subway, or close it and drown in your own sweat. I didn't sleep much either of those nights. It was an experience, though. We were across the street from a US Army recruitment place, a McDonald's, a bible store, and on top of a bridal shop. Everything was graffitti'd to shit, too. It was a microcosm of American Capitalism, right out the window. And the neighborhood was predominantly black, which was cool. And the menu board at the McDonald's was computerized with video screens showing ads for different food and stuff.

I've been living on the West Coast for too long, because I wasn't much into the food in New York. Not only because it was expensive. I've grown accustomed to veggie burgers, salads, vegan this and that, organic, natural, tofu, whole-grain, vegetable hippie shit. And I like it a lot, and I missed it in New York. Although I imagine myself to be both cynical about and untouched by Vancouver and all its West Coast vices, I too wear patchouli and eat tofu on an almost daily basis. The food here is one of the only things I'll miss when I go to Toronto, other than my friends and possibly my family.

I'm really excited to go to Toronto, though. I really hope I can get there in August. I've never been there before, but I have several friends who grew up there and have said that I belong there much more than I belong in Vancouver. And how can I describe Jon in writing? I liked him the instant I met him in the Bay Area last spring, but didn't know he felt the same way, and when we saw each other again in New York, everything immediately clicked (well, after I seduced him... arg! I miss him so much). How can I explain why I'm ready to move across Canada right now (if it weren't for fucking school)? It's so hard and unfair that he's not here. If anything, this year I will learn the true meaning of patience.

I saw a guy in the lineup for the Museum of Natural History wearing a navy blue t-shirt that said "Nueva York" on it in small white writing. It was so rad. I looked half-heartedly for a t-shirt like that, knowing I wouldn't find one. I almost want to get one made. It would be a nice thing to have. I was thinking the other day how cool it was of me to get a t-shirt made that said "t-shirts suck" when I was in Grade 10. I'm a a fucking genius. I still have that shirt, too, with its glow-in-the-dark painted letters that are falling off.

The Museum of Natural History was cool because it reminded us of the movie Election, which was so great. All the dinosaur bones and evolutionary information was awesome, and so was the part with meteorites, gems, rocks, and minerals. Meteorites are awesome, and I still think the coolest way to die would be to get hit by a meteorite. Parts of the museum were cheesy and bad, but overall it's a must-visit.

I noticed a Japanese guy in the airport in Vancouver, waiting to fly out, wearing white toe socks with flip-flops. It looked hella rad. Japanese fashion is so where it's at.

Yes, the tea dragged me out of self-loathing quite nicely. So I guess I'll end here for now. I don't know what I'm gonna do tonight. I think read, and download music. I've been itching for some new music lately, and Jon and Larissa have both recommended some stuff I'd like to investigate. So, ciao.