I always win

downtown Seattle from the ferry dock at Bainbridge Island, March 31 1999 On March 30 1999, I flew from Toronto to Seattle to start an exciting chapter of my life: an internship at the head office of the company I worked for. It was a big deal for me. Not only was I hopeful about where the internship might take my career, but I had always been envious of my high school friends who bravely went on student exchanges. Here I was, jetting off to a city I'd never been to before, and living with people I had never met. My company's legal department determined that I didn't need a work visa. Instead, I'd apply for entry under a provision of NAFTA . I had full references and documentation; still, I was nervous clearing U.S. customs at Pearson . Before my car service arrived to take me to the airport, I took an Ativan . I sailed through effortlessly. My Air Canada flight to Sea-Tac will likely remain one of the most pleasurable I've ever taken. Relaxed from the Ativ...

In a graphic display of vulnerability and weakness, I called Stephen on March 10th. In tears. I hadn't heard from him since his expressway breakup phone call , and I lost my shit . He talked me down from my emotional ledge, and we're in occasional contact now. Healthy contact. His perspective: things are parked, but not over. My perspective: I'll probably never forget that he chose career over love . I'm going out on dates with other guys, but it might be too soon. In a rare moment of clarity and focus, I decided on an action plan for returning to school (and ultimately work) — graphic design . I'm working with my Second Career counsellor to get everything in place. With any luck, I'll be starting a 28-week program at a Toronto graphic design school in July. So, despite my unemployed status, my time is taken up with research and prep work.* I'm behind in my blog reading. (Sorry.) * oh, who am I kidding? I'm still addicted to television, In...

I could never remember my Chinese Zodiac sign. A couple of years ago — while engaging in emotional eating at Mandarin ("Gung Hay Fat Choy!") — I looked up my birth year (1970) on the paper placemat. "Neat!" I thought. " Year of the Dog ... I like dogs!" I took the placemat home, clipped out my sign, and put it on my bulletin board. This morning, my friend Penelope sent me a link to a "birthday calculator" website. Just for shits & giggles, I plugged in my d.o.b. SHOCKER! I'm not Year of the Dog after all... I'm Year of the Rooster ! 20 minutes of Internet research confirms that I am, indeed, a cock. I was born in early 1970 — before the switch from Rooster to Dog. I now have to re-evaluate my entire life. All of those failed relationships with Snakes and Dragons ? Bah! Folly. That cool, Aquarian distance I'm sometimes guilty of exhibiting? Replace that Dog trait with the eccentric, loner-ish tendencies of the Roo...

Stephen (the guy I was seeing; the one I so foolishly thought I was going to marry ) ended things this morning. Over the phone. While he was driving to his eighth straight day at work. I've been robbed of the dignity I would've had by ending things first. We've had many problems in our very short time together. From early on, I found it difficult to adjust to his unpredictable and erratic behaviour. On our second date, he said "I already know how I'm going to propose to you." On our third date, he (jokingly) said "I know it's early, but will you marry me?" I laughed it off, but later that evening, I did tell him that I loved him. He responded with "I think I love you too." He had a business trip to the UK after our third date. He called me daily. One evening (while drunk), he said "I do love you, you know that... right?" He was honest from the beginning about his shortcomings: he smoked too much pot, he was terrible...