Beautiful, haunting, happy, and sad
It was sad waking up and knowing that we had to exit the beautiful country of Canada.
We set the alarm early to the point of naivety. Considering all that we had done, and what little sleep we had done it on, obviously we should have known we were not going to rise and shine. We were sort of hoping that maybe we could take R up on his offer of giving us a more in-depth tour of Winnipeg, but after I hopped in the shower, he called and said he ended up having to work today at the pub where we had gone last night.
The girls were getting ready next door and told us they were all going down to the Elephant and Castle for brunch and they wanted us to join them for one last meal together in Canada, but Dylan and I really wanted to go hang out with R one last time so we got a taxi over the river. Remembering the record store from last night, I decided I wanted to go check that out first, to hunt for a rare Voice of the Beehive "best of" album which was only released in Canada and features a still from their video "Monsters and Angels" which was inspired by the painting Nighthawks as the cover. Unfortunately they didn't have that CD (I had also looked for it in the record store we visited in the Exchange District two days ago) but they did have the British import version of Sex & Misery, my copy - which I had paid like $40 for at GB Records back in Hays, KS - has been completely scratched up. We crossed the street over to the pub which was very empty and saw R behind the bar. There is this weird sad/happy feeling that you get anytime you meet someone in a far off land when you realize you probably will not see them again for a very, very long time, if ever. Because Dylan and I like to travel so much, and because of our unique identities - he forms very quick bonds with people and I tend to form very deep bonds with people - we're often having to bid teary goodbyes to people who we'd much rather just shove in our suitcases and take back with us. So, we decided to just enjoy our last couple hours by pigging out (we had fish n chips and a yummy grilled chicken sandwich and soup) and PLENTY of drinks... like way more drinks that you should have before you're about to go through international customs having already had a horrific experience going through customs just three days prior.
We drunkenly said our goodbyes, snapped few photos for posterity, and got a cab back to the Delta Winnipeg where the girls were already loading up in the van to get to the airport.
Going through the US customs to get back into the country was a piece of cake despite our collective stage of inebriation. We even made it through with enough time for me to actually buy souvenirs for my family. The cute faux-hawked guy who made us go through the body scanner seemed to be "family" as he had a lot of questions for us about the gay pride festival.
The flight back to Minneapolis was short but not sweet. I stared out the window and cried a tear or two looking down at the Canadian plains as they grew smaller and smaller until they finally disappeared below the clouds.
Landing in Minneapolis, we had yet one more part of our trip to complete - dinner at Outback Steakhouse with AJ's family, all of which live around the Twin Cities area. AJ grew up in Brainard, ME, which is just about an hour outside of the Minneapolis. Her grandma came to pick us up in her Cadillac Escalade but we wouldn't all fit, so Dylan and I volunteered to wait at the airport so she could drop them off and come back for us. While we waited, I called Kevin because we were very excited for him to come visit us for LA Pride next weekend. But, on top of the sadness of leaving Winnipeg, we were then delivered another blow - giving no explanation, Kevin texted back and said he wouldn't be able to come down after all.
Finally AJ's grandma came back and picked us up. We drove by the Mall of America on the way to the restaurant. The meal ended up being quite an interesting affair. It's always disorienting and overwhelming to be around a large family, but quite more so when it's not your own. Normally I would have tried harder to be social and to meet all the various aunts (hardly any of the male family members were in attendance) but I was just not in the right state of mind. Dylan and I took our place at the far end of the table in no man's land, pretty much keeping to ourselves. I didn't even order any alcohol since I was already starting to feel withdrawals from drinking way too much all weekend, and sobering up from the drinks R had served us at his pub.
Getting back to the airport on time for our flight back to LA proved to be comically challenging, although the comical part didn't really come up until much later, after we had finally successfully boarded the flight. There was a lot of confusion about who was driving who to the airport, how to get to the airport, OH MY GOD!, WHERE ARE THE KIDS?, and which way do you turn the steering wheel when someone tells you to turn right? It's a small wonder that we made it back to LA.
On the dark, cramped, and seemingly slow-motion flight back to Cali, I tried to sleep or at least rest, but instead my brain decided it had to write a song, and once I had enough words and notes that I liked, I became obsessed with remembering it. I sang the song over and over and over to myself, in my mine, a thousand times so that I would not forget it. It was beautiful, haunting, happy, and sad all at once... a perfect memento of my time in Canada.
Hello 2010, goodbye junk!
NEW YEARS RESOLUTION LOG ENTRY 156
Rainbow lei that I had saved from something, but now I don't remember what so any sentimental attachment is clearly gone.
We set the alarm early to the point of naivety. Considering all that we had done, and what little sleep we had done it on, obviously we should have known we were not going to rise and shine. We were sort of hoping that maybe we could take R up on his offer of giving us a more in-depth tour of Winnipeg, but after I hopped in the shower, he called and said he ended up having to work today at the pub where we had gone last night.
The girls were getting ready next door and told us they were all going down to the Elephant and Castle for brunch and they wanted us to join them for one last meal together in Canada, but Dylan and I really wanted to go hang out with R one last time so we got a taxi over the river. Remembering the record store from last night, I decided I wanted to go check that out first, to hunt for a rare Voice of the Beehive "best of" album which was only released in Canada and features a still from their video "Monsters and Angels" which was inspired by the painting Nighthawks as the cover. Unfortunately they didn't have that CD (I had also looked for it in the record store we visited in the Exchange District two days ago) but they did have the British import version of Sex & Misery, my copy - which I had paid like $40 for at GB Records back in Hays, KS - has been completely scratched up. We crossed the street over to the pub which was very empty and saw R behind the bar. There is this weird sad/happy feeling that you get anytime you meet someone in a far off land when you realize you probably will not see them again for a very, very long time, if ever. Because Dylan and I like to travel so much, and because of our unique identities - he forms very quick bonds with people and I tend to form very deep bonds with people - we're often having to bid teary goodbyes to people who we'd much rather just shove in our suitcases and take back with us. So, we decided to just enjoy our last couple hours by pigging out (we had fish n chips and a yummy grilled chicken sandwich and soup) and PLENTY of drinks... like way more drinks that you should have before you're about to go through international customs having already had a horrific experience going through customs just three days prior.
We drunkenly said our goodbyes, snapped few photos for posterity, and got a cab back to the Delta Winnipeg where the girls were already loading up in the van to get to the airport.
Going through the US customs to get back into the country was a piece of cake despite our collective stage of inebriation. We even made it through with enough time for me to actually buy souvenirs for my family. The cute faux-hawked guy who made us go through the body scanner seemed to be "family" as he had a lot of questions for us about the gay pride festival.
The flight back to Minneapolis was short but not sweet. I stared out the window and cried a tear or two looking down at the Canadian plains as they grew smaller and smaller until they finally disappeared below the clouds.
Landing in Minneapolis, we had yet one more part of our trip to complete - dinner at Outback Steakhouse with AJ's family, all of which live around the Twin Cities area. AJ grew up in Brainard, ME, which is just about an hour outside of the Minneapolis. Her grandma came to pick us up in her Cadillac Escalade but we wouldn't all fit, so Dylan and I volunteered to wait at the airport so she could drop them off and come back for us. While we waited, I called Kevin because we were very excited for him to come visit us for LA Pride next weekend. But, on top of the sadness of leaving Winnipeg, we were then delivered another blow - giving no explanation, Kevin texted back and said he wouldn't be able to come down after all.
Finally AJ's grandma came back and picked us up. We drove by the Mall of America on the way to the restaurant. The meal ended up being quite an interesting affair. It's always disorienting and overwhelming to be around a large family, but quite more so when it's not your own. Normally I would have tried harder to be social and to meet all the various aunts (hardly any of the male family members were in attendance) but I was just not in the right state of mind. Dylan and I took our place at the far end of the table in no man's land, pretty much keeping to ourselves. I didn't even order any alcohol since I was already starting to feel withdrawals from drinking way too much all weekend, and sobering up from the drinks R had served us at his pub.
Getting back to the airport on time for our flight back to LA proved to be comically challenging, although the comical part didn't really come up until much later, after we had finally successfully boarded the flight. There was a lot of confusion about who was driving who to the airport, how to get to the airport, OH MY GOD!, WHERE ARE THE KIDS?, and which way do you turn the steering wheel when someone tells you to turn right? It's a small wonder that we made it back to LA.
On the dark, cramped, and seemingly slow-motion flight back to Cali, I tried to sleep or at least rest, but instead my brain decided it had to write a song, and once I had enough words and notes that I liked, I became obsessed with remembering it. I sang the song over and over and over to myself, in my mine, a thousand times so that I would not forget it. It was beautiful, haunting, happy, and sad all at once... a perfect memento of my time in Canada.
Hello 2010, goodbye junk!
NEW YEARS RESOLUTION LOG ENTRY 156
Rainbow lei that I had saved from something, but now I don't remember what so any sentimental attachment is clearly gone.
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