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I don't know if it's too soon for another life update; to be honest, I haven't been doing a whole lot since my birthday gathering and starting my new job at the beginning of April. If you don't really go on too many adventures or you stay inside your own head too much, it doesn't really make for interesting blog posts.

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Them's the berries

I wrote this about two years ago. Relationships were on my mind at the time as a few of my friends had gone through breakups the previous fall; as much as I was trying to keep things vague in the post, I was also trying to work through some of my own feelings by writing about them, still blindsided and conflicted over the automatic neurochemical reactions I kept experiencing with a specific person a while back (part of the equation: for the first time in at least 10 years, it was a woman). As far as I know, nothing was going to come of it, but I still try to keep the number of real-world interactions to a minimum because I don't want any involuntary emotions leaking out. 

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31 in 31: Day 3

I keep thinking back to a conversation I had a few years ago. I was visiting a friend in Moncton, and we both wistfully reminisced about some of the people from our university days; special relationships that just eventually faded, like our lives were individual orbits that came together at a specific time to provide something each needed, only to diverge again. I wish the detail and emotion of that whole night weren't as fuzzy as they are now, but I'm always going to remember how intimate and piercing that whole discussion was, and how fortunate I am to have had it.

The people who take me to that point are the ones I want to keep in my life.

30 in 30: Day 23

I'm still trying to make sense of why I didn't bother checking out more of Nocturne last night, instead opting to go home almost immediately after leaving Lot Six. I checked even less out than I did last year, which also was a little bit of a bust. Was it just the rain that actually let up fairly early on but dampened my interest to the point where I went home? Was I really in a rush to get home for Saturday Night Live? Do I actually give a fuck about the arts, or do I only try to convince myself that I do?

I haven't really felt that I've been able to take full advantage of living in the city, largely due to financial constraints. Live music, art shows, theatre...I can never really bring myself to go out to any of these. Maybe it's just a side effect of the precarious work I was doing for the last 11 months. It's funny, when I lived in Miramichi, I longed to be in a place with a decent amount of cultural life, but now that I'm in Halifax and close to all this art, I don't normally bother, not even when it's free and involves people I know. Ever since the provincial government gutted the film tax credit in April, I'm afraid that one ripple effect is that the cultural life of Halifax is going to dry up.

How long will I stay in Halifax? I don't know. I'm not especially settled here; I do have a good circle of friends, but I don't have a stable career or family tying me to this place, and I'm very reluctant to be in a relationship or follow through on an attraction until I feel a little more stable on the career front. Life tends to go on even while I'm trying to figure out who I am and what I want: I have to eat, pay rent, try to socialize, and sleep anyway, regardless of whether I write or take pictures. I'm not sure whether either is what I should be or want to be doing with my life.

Then again, as Carolyn Mark sang, "everything happens either not at all or at the same time."