Don't Let Your Soul Get Lonely

Lonliness sucks.

It doesn't matter that every day I am surrounded by people. Right now I am writing so furiously that my elbow is bumping the wrist of the lady next to me. It doesn't matter that I have things in common with people here. In fact, this poor lady is attempting to enjoy the same drink that I've let turn cold beside me on the window sill. It doesn't matter that I've made enough acquaintances that I'm never without someone to say hello by name.

What matters right here, right now, is that these people are not my friends. They are not the people I know inside and out. They are not the people I stay up to talk to all night. They are not the people I can make pancakes for to persuade them to wake up and watch cartoons with me. They are not the people who made me embrace nerdy card games.  And I don't want to let them become that to me, because in 7 months I'll have to leave them behind.

And while I'm forced to be here, my friends are all back home, together. Still staying up and eating pancakes and playing cards. And it only gets harder. Because back home, alongside my friends are other people who are doing these things with them who don't know them or love them like I do. And because back home, my friends have too much on their plates to be able to hold contact. And because back home, my world is going on perfectly happily without me.

Tout et depuis toujours, nous rêvons le même rêve. Et ce que nous pensons être la vie – et que nous considérons comme étant « notre vie » -- n'est rien de plus qu'un roman écrit par personne. Mais si personne n'est l'auteur de notre rêve commun, pourquoi le rêvons-nous? Et, surtout, pourquoi le rêvons-nous ensemble?

-- Edgar Kosma

Yet, there is a collectivity to my loneliness, as paradoxical as that sounds. Because at times, this lady gets lonely, even with the comfort of her Grande Latte Caramel Noisette. (Ok pause: This drink is seriously really good). And at times, people with my friends are feeling lonely.

Sometimes someone steps back and sees how short life is and realizes that they don't know themselves and that they don't know anyone else or anything at all, and they feel lonely.

So yeah, loneliness sucks.  And no, it doesn't get better. It doesn't get easier. But at the very least, it gets accepted.

The Western Man's Need to Cry

This weekend I had the privilege to travel to Ypres and Brussels for Jour de l'Armistice (Remembrance Day).
Ypres was more than an eye-opener. Now I've seen war, I've seen hatred, and I've seen pain. But I don't think I've ever connected with the reality of their existence in life before.
The most moving things I saw in Ypres were the stories printed on the Christmas cards sent from the front over 90 years ago...

 ...And the horrifying count of how many armed conflicts Red Cross has been a part of since the 'War to end all Wars'.

How have we still managed not to learn to love?
After Ypres we headed to Brussels. Since Belgium only seems to believe in rain, we spent most of our time inside, at the national Art and History Museums. Luckily, we managed to score a great weekend to be there. The World Photography Exhibit was being displayed here.
Many of the pictures once again reminded me of all the hatred in our world and all the pain that exists. But the first place photos in the Arts and Entertainment category (the photographer, Kitra Cahana, was Canadian!) reminded me of something else: even though our world is rough, and we feel helpless, and we hate and cheat and lie and steal and kill, there is still joy.

That's one reason there have been so many armed conflicts since the war to end all wars. Because we have to protect our joys when they are threatened.
Do I agree with war? No. Do I want it to exist? No. But I understand that there are some times where talking no longer suffices as a way to work things out. I just have to pray that those times are few and far between.

Carpe Diem

Ripe -- Ben Lee

The moon sheds light across the end of the bed.
You made me wait but now I'm touching your leg.
And i remember all the little things you said,
"quesadillas, made with cheese" and "a rock band who were Japanese."
So for once in my life, I saw what I wanted and took a bite.
I picked the fruit from the tree and it was ripe.

Your love got big, your jokes got worse each afternoon.
Like bacon at a bah mitzvah, like a lead balloon.
And who's to say what really happened in that room each day?
I was looking for a bride, you were looking for a groom.
So for once in your life, you saw what you wanted and you took a bite.
You picked the fruit from the tree and it was ripe.

And all you people are the heroes I've known.
We're staring off the edge into the unknown.
We are not there yet but we cannot go home.
So we cry, and we sing.
Yeah, I remember everything.
For once in our lives, we saw what we wanted and took a bite.
We picked the fruit from the tree.
And it was ripe.


Carpe diem. Seize the day. Live your life to it's full potential.
It's certainly getting me through.
It takes on a different shape each time.
Sometimes it entails going for a run and getting horribly lost in my own arrondissement.
Sometimes it entails hopping on a plane for a weekend in Madrid.
Sometimes it's having the balls to take up an offer for a date.
Regardless, it makes living life feel good.
And best of all, it keeps me from missing these people too much.

Elle parle avec un légère accent

Well, we are 43 days into my life in Europe. I don't have much to write about, because life is decidedly similar as a student no matter where you live.
There are always classes -- always earlier than you'd like them -- and they always bring homework. There are always intelligent students, ignorant students, entertaining students and lazy students. There is always have enough money to live, but not enough money to spend. There is always enough food to eat, and not enough motivation to cook. There are always responsibilities in the way of fun, and there is often fun taking place instead of responsibility.

I am admittedly enjoying my time here. There really is a lot to love. There is, of course, a lot to miss, too.

My professor has somehow pinpointed me as the hopeless romantic of the class. At first I had no idea what she was talking about. Heck, in Canada I'm one of the least romantic people I know. Put me in the city of love and I should appear closer to a necromancer than a romantic! But after a bit of reflection and self-analysis, I have decided that she is right. I do have a romantic perception of a lot of things, including my faith (something that is challenged frequently here), my sense of home, my sense of belonging, my views on man's goodness, and above all, my friends.



I frequently wander the streets alone, listening to music and thinking about the meaning of life. One tends to do these things when one is alone. I'm actually grateful to be alone with myself for a time.

I am learning much more about myself than I would have imagined. I think that people travel not to see the world, but to see how the world sees them.

Paris has reached a profound part of my heart that I had forgotten was there.

Paris Holds the Key

Paris in point form:
1) Jet-lag sucks. Especially 6 hours. It scares me to return home. Also, I will have lost parts of my life because I lost 6 coming here on a 7 hour flight (pretend it's a 13 hour flight) and will gain six coming back on an 8 hour flight (pretend it's a 2 hour flight). I find it strange.
2) Everyone wants your money for everything. Fees are hiding EVERYWHERE!
3) The have CHERRY COKE here. CHERRY COKE! I was so excited the guy at the Subway we found actually called me Cherry Coke (sounds like a horrible stripper name! Yikes!) when we left.
4) Everyone here smokes, looks amazing (except a lot of people in the Metro... must be the lighting), smells good, and shows a lot of physical affection.
5) No one here drinks coffee on the go, showers for a long time, uses electricity if it can be avoided (I have to run down the hall at night because the light's on a timer and we're at the end and I'm afraid of monsters or armed robbers)or smiles at you in the road.
5) People like Canada, but not America. Also, people are surprised at my French. I guess they haven't heard Canada is bilingual.
6) The Eiffel Tower is lame. I hope Versailles has more to offer.
7) The coffee here is AMAZING.
8) Booze is everywhere. I like it.
9) I dress conspicuously North American. And I'm proud of it!
10) I really REALLY have the best friends on earth. I miss them more than words can say, and wish they were all here to experience this with me. But reading the things they wrote to me in my journal (Thanks Mandar!) and the emails/letters keep me from missing them enough to drop out and fly home.

Sketchy.

Goal: fill a sketch book solely with sketches of the next people I see smoking or drinking coffee.
I can't explain why. I just think it will be a neat adventure.

Chelsea and Aaron Get Married!

Yesterday, one of the most beautiful and caring women I know, Chelsea Watterworth (well, Eygenraam now, I suppose!) married one of the most dedicated and passionate men I know, Aaron Eygenraam. The ceremony was beautiful and the reception was a blast! Congrats to the lovebirds!

Here is Chelsea posing briefly with me during the reception.

This is my wonderful group of friends from what seems like a lifetime ago. We used to all attend youth with Chelsea. All in all, the day was full of nostalgia, fun and love!

Congrats to one of my oldest and dearest friends, and her super-lucky guy.
Best wishes for the future to Chelsea and Aaron!