Christmas! Let's be Glad! - December 23rd, 2007

Hey!

You know how much I love this season, so much that I have not had time to say hello at all. I just got back from Warrnambool and horse riding, now heading up to Broken Hill and the desert for Christmas day. Then Alice Springs. Will tell about all very soon.

All my love guys, Merry Christmas.

Nicholas

Yule Love It! - December 12th, 2007

Hey all! Seems fitting, in the spirit of giving, for me to throw up some completely assorted photos from the last few weeks. Have fun, and no, this is not the kind of present you can return for a refund.

Here I am with my lovely new Christmas tree, "Mel". There is green grass all around me, and I look like a hobo. It's 31 degrees. Merry Christmas indeed.

Our dear friend Alistair (middle) had his birthday, so we cooked a haggis and piped it out for him to the tune of Scotland The Brave. That's Jess on the right, and Vinnie, well, he didn't quite find sheep guts to be his favorite dish.

And finally, we went to a children's Christmas carnival at the petting farm, and after hugging a very sweaty santa, I proceeded to make out with this pony. I am, much to my forgetfullness, still vastly allergic to horses however, and spent the next few hours covered in what could only be described as a "Festive Face Rash".

Merry Christmas everyone, talk to you soon.

The time in between - December 09, 2007

Well hello guys, fancy seeing you around...



After the extended pleasure that comes with being so equipped with the full capabilities of the multi-media blogosphere, it comes as a bemusing tide to see any entrances here on the blog wane away. I`ve shied away from writing much in the hopes that I would be suddenly blessed with both the time and bandwith to share my life in technocolored glory. Alas, neither has arrived, and so with a slight dallop of guilt I write without any images to carry the point upon a seeming ocean of platitudes.

Christmas draws hard upon my heels here, and in the wake of certain commentary I should say for the record that none of my issues are ever of real weight these days. I seem simply to be a minor weigher of delights, a Shylock of contentment. To that end, a fairly large grain of salt must accompany my postings...

Anywho, I actually crave snow and ice in a somewhat unearthly manner that points out to all my seeming lack of humanity. We had a real live Christmas tree delivered to our place today by Oxfam, which earned the shock from most the artists in the building. So much in fact, that some band rehearsing in our living room gave us comp tickets to their show this Monday. I haven`t heard of them, but I think some of their songs are on youtube (Dresden Dolls anyone?) I dunno.

The internal debate has been whether to weather the weather in Melbourne and pursue a traditional Christmas or flee to the hills for the season. I keep wavering in between the two options, making plans in both directions, and without any seeming commitment from my intentions. I feel now like picking up a beaten down Ford Falcon and driving up to the desert, an option that simple shrugs off the yule time tide, and an idea which becomes more palpable as I see that no amount of Salvation Army will rouse the Christmas of Australia. It's just a different country, no matter the Seven Elevens, and I've gotta get around to rolling with that.

Otherwise, the daily oasis of pleasure I inhabit draws forth the stuffed voices of the closet. I mean, the onrush of peace, well, it tends to muffle the yearnings for self-betterment. And I've been so happy for so long here that the voices are starting to leak from the floor boards. Christmas tidings anyone? This one says Happy Getyourshittogether.

Listening like mad to the Shortbus soundtrack. As for the film, one day when I'm emperor I'm going to put to death anyone who doesn't love it. Negative? Think of it this way, people who lust for the movie I will actually give life to. So yah, she's a great flick and soundtrack.

Finished reading the latest blast of books, and settled once again into Voltaire's Bastards, the tome of genius I've been thumbing and highlighting for ten months, letting the words of sparkling description melt into my lobes. Perfection.

The past, a blow of noel yearnings, the present, the joy of a life lent but not bought, the future...

well for the future, you'll have to stay tuned...

Love!

Nick

Woot - December 3rd, 2007

Hey, internet back in force, Chrismas climbing happily from depths of soul into sordid heat, will put up all sorts of lovely info tomorrow, but until then, the Bird video is up down below.

Check it out!

The depths of rural Mexico... - November 29th, 2007

Where have I gone?

Sorry about the disappearance just when this space was getting constant and interesting, but our office internet has crapped out and won't be up until the 1st of December. With that source gone, to find internet one is forced again to wander the streets of Melbourne holding a laptop in the air and stabbing the skies with some sort of massive antennae. I've said it before, but internet in Oz is actually worse than rural Mexico, so much that the new Labor government ran on a platform of getting rid of dial-up modems.

Sigh. When the good times come back I'll get up all the wicked videos of surfing, summer, and birds trying to eat my friends. Oh, and finally get that auto-starting manta ray video fixed.

Talk to you all very soon,

Nick.

Life on the Ranch - November 21st, 2007

Hey everyone,

Sorry about the lack of posts, the internet in Australia still continues to be powered by some very overworked hamsters, so sometimes I can't get the content up I'd like.

There is a fabulous video of some carnivorous seagulls I've been trying to get up, but it looks like sometime next week will be the only thing going. In the meantime, I've been spending most of my days in the south pacific, and with the summer heat here the process resembles the soft steaming of a naive lobster. Had a blast pretending I wasn't from Alberta by partaking in that most un-Albertan sport, Surfing.

surfing is, well, hard.

Jess and I are looking to pick up a nice cheap station wagon this Friday to prepare for our future sojourn, and aside from a hopeful trip to Tasmania for Christmas, it looks like we will be leaving our Melbourne life at the end of February. Seriously miffed about the whole idea of Christmas down south, it's not quite right to say the least, but flying home is out of the question financially. Jealous of Reich and the rest of the crew who get to spend the season with family in a nice frosty environ... anyways,


Internet still poop, will try to throw up photos this arvo or tomorrow.

Much Love,
Nick.

Gone to the birds - November 15th, 2007

Ah! I am so sick of Australian Fauna! From the hyper-poisonous to the highly toxic, almost everything in this country is unfairly lethal. I've mentioned in the past such real winners like the Eastern Taipan (Death via bleeding from the eyes), the Box Jellyfish (Death via hideous screaming), and even the Bull Shark (Death via Bull Shark).

Well now we can add the seemingly harmless Seagull to the illustrious ranks of Aussie Killing Machines (not including the food of course).

This is what happens when a young man from Montreal walks down the St. Kilda pier with a box of fries. Run Jon, Run!

Vicious.

It's 35 degrees, I'm going surfing, see you later,


Nick!

Whadda ya mean I can't take off my sweater? - November 15th, 2007

Forgive the auto-starting video. It's from the Sydney Aquarium. That ray is Huuuuuge.

*EDIT*
Video taken down due to horrible auto-start nightmare, will fix and get up later.*

N.

No Trouble in Paradise. - November 9th, 2007

Hey crew!

Just flew back from an amazing road trip through New South Wales, and am bursting with happiness both distilled and raw. Jess and I flew to Sydney on Saturday morning on what could only loosely be termed an "aviation device", to meet up with our friend Benoit and rent what could only loosely be termed a "vehicle I should be in control of".

Thus began a four-day sojourn to northern NSW, a place almost mystically tropical within but a few hours of Sydney. We camped every night on the beaches we found, some wet and blustered, most hot, sun-baked and welcoming. One night we swam in phosphorescence, the next we bore witness to southern right whales launching back flips against the southern pacific's reflection.

Another day we spent a few perilous moments experiencing the essence of Australian life, happy frolicking in the waves cut short by the frantic pointing of lifeguards and the thriving presence of our mutual friend, the Bull Shark. Mild sunburn, endless coast, a place in the world practically starving for the slightest mar to break up the perfect beauty. The whole adventure served up steaming as a preview to the big road trip we're planning in March.

Photos are up, but not captioned. On our last day in Sydney we went to the aquarium, thus explaining the gorgeous pictures snapped from the oceanarium tank. Oh, and as a final note, a certain horse-minded lady managed to pick the winning equine in the Melbourne Cup,a feat not too far shy of world famous, and won us a nice purse of freeeee money.

All in all, a phenomenal weekend, a wonderful trip, and after this overview, one I'll dissect in detail in this space.

Cheers,
Nick

A Melbourne Fog - November, 1st, 2007

Whhhooophhh.

What a looong time it's been since I was possesed by the mental space to write with any dexterity to any of you. It's been workworkworkwork, and my weekends, those last bastions of sanity, have been too sacred to document and broadcast.

Anyways, did I write to say I'm not writing? No. It's Melbourne Cup day on Tuesday, which is a big horse race and a national holiday (No Halloween, yes horses. I dunno) and so Jess and I are treating ourselves right with a big trip. We're off to Sydney and getting a car to spend our next four days basking in the summer sun and frying to a crisp in the grottos of the gold coast. Should be nothing shy of incredible, if for no reason than to be free from work for a couple days.

Anywho, will completely decorate my eLife with photos and videos aplenty once I return from afar. Plans for the next few months are crystalizing quickly, all promising adventure and exploit. Bryan from PO is with us as well these last few weeks and has done something just shy of parting the red sea when it comes to taking some stress off our shoulders.

One thing I've learned while wandering is that the tedious life moves very fast, so fast that if you stay put for any length of time it will catch up to you and sink it's endless, miasmic days into your skin, creating what will appear to be, for all intensive purposes, a life like any other. So you have to be quick, don't stop moving, or they'll get a tie on you before you know it, and your moments will come rattling off a film strip instead of your own red hands.

Gotta run,

Nick.

That's it! I quit! - Oct 23. 2007

You know what? I didn't sign up for this. It's not in my contract.

Do you have any idea how many bats live in Melbourne? Every crevice is filled with them. They truly haunt the skies. You cannot walk the streets.

I'm done. Screw this. I'm going home.

Effin' Bats.

In a city by the bay - Oct. 22, 2007

And so the heated days of summer burst upon our fated adventurer, freed, as he was, from the weighted burden of melted halloween candy, content to wander the sunny slopes.



34 degrees and burning in Melbourne yesterday. Great plans leapt from my brow and fizzled, screaming into the summer heat. Plan number one: Get on train, go to coast. Brilliant.



Outcome of plan number one?



:

Gonna be a loooong summer.

Donde es tu Sol? - October 15th, 2007

Holy smokes, wading deep into summer here, our first 27 degree day that just aches of being...normal. Hoo boy she's gonna be a hot summer.

Desperately throwing on loose knit clothes, helpless in a closet of black attire formed by use into some sort of geological strata of futility. Mainly, and I mean almost totally, gripped by a happy missing and longing aimed squarely at the summers of past and the friends that strung upon them.

What I wouldn't give to have woken up this morning in a kiddie pool, outside the frat house, beers floating around my sun baked corpse as we while away the hours with Frisbee and drinking board games, horrific forties of malt liquor brandishing our defiance to the sun's rays.

Or, cooked and gasping, a thin layer of sweat resembling desperation, lurching onto the living pale streets of Chapala, Mexico. Gringo skin somehow radiating heat like a highway mirage, every waking moment driven to the next cold cerveza and three leche cake.

Or perhaps this day could be bartered for the company of Halifax, the cavalcade of performers, improvisational life, drifting through tangle of SpringGarden road and the rocky shores. Maybe the silent mountains of the yukon, and the stillness of days stretched across your eyes, a sun that no one told to sleep.

Sigh, Miss you all, life is exultant, but summer days, well, they always remind me of the glories of the past. Yours, nick

In Nauseum - October 10th, 2007

Hey hey,

Radiohead's seventh album came out today, for all of you not "in the know:.

I suppose the most magical part of the whole experience is that, since they are happily without a label, they are releasing the album via download at www.inrainbows.com

and, you pay what you want. Brilliant. Find the wreckage of a music industry smoldering in a plastic-wrapped crater. So, if you want the new album, it's yours, or if you're a Radiohead fan, it's only 15 pounds. Steal.

Anywho, check you out tomorrow, from my Yorke-inspired bliss cocoon.

Nick

p.s. (I ever tell you guys about the dream I had where I hung out with Thom Yorke all day and he told me I was his greatest fan? I am that big a loser.)

After the cliffs. - October 08, 2007

Hello again everyone.

Rough and terrible time last week, but from aqua into unda all deaths pass from the concrete to the imagined. The guilt of watching a friend's memory drift from that daily horror, the solid mass of grief that heralds your hours, into a manageable trivia, is omnipresent. So I bid my friend Ross farewell, shuffled off to the book cases of our memory, not often to be remembered, the brutal taxing of our days. The way it is, I guess, the way it will be.

Like I said though, moving on, got out on Sunday to the Great Ocean Road to see the Twelve Apostles, which are a bunch of wicked huge rocks all smashed up standing on the coast. Really cool, photos are below.

Will go on more about life tomorrow, when I feel a bit less guilty about living my life, in the face of the forfeited.

oh fuck

My friend Ross just died.

My dear friend.

I'm sorry Ross.

For the birds... - October 1, 2007

Bah!

One of the top-five worst concerts I have ever seen. Decent lazy weekend (quite rare), of cloudy weather and days spent in bed. A bit overcome with how little of the Spanish language I actually know, also filled with glee devouring the new Naomi Klein book, The Shock Doctrine.

Actually, as I stare at the horrific pile of books both spent and un-spent next to my bed, I think I will begin some sort of Nick Book-of-the-Week club. Yes, brilliant. More to come.



Caught "The War on Democracy" this weekend, heavy handed, but a simple and sobering re-telling of some of America's brutal acts in South America. For a real treat, check out any episode of "Alo Presidente" on youtube, Chavez's wickedly bizarre weekly show in Venezuela. I swear, the masses will never oust a big jolly man who wears only red and has his own tv show. Of course there was that messy business with the elves...



Anywho, to help us all deal with the disappointments of global politics and vis-a-vis, Ian's rantings, here is a video of me being attacked by Emus:

Bye guys!

The Rise and Fall of Empires - September 28th, 2007

Ah, so let's drum out Cato and get the quill flowing, the times are a-changing.

Under-reported story from last week, the Pies ended their season in a valiant effort against the tyrannically talented Geelong Cats. I was so very lucky to get tickets to the game at the MCG, and joined the record setting crowd of 98,002 fans. That's a hundred thousand people, ladies and gents, not a mob to snuffed at. Anywho, we lost by less than a goal, which is epic, and my sadness was offput by the start of the Hockey season back home, which tempers any true loss.

Videos and photos are up at the revamped album, click here:




As for the other Empire of mention, the Cat Empire play a free outdoor show tonight at Federation Square, and you'd best be damn right if you are picturing me in all my dancing duds. Hopefully it doesn't rain, I've waited for this gig for quite some time.

Here's why they're worth it:



See you later,

Nick!

Chasing Boomers - September 26th, 2007

Hey! I got the video thingy on Blogger working, and that makes the total overall headache of myphotoalbum.com much better. I'm going to throw up a couple great videos of my eternal quest to bond with the animal kingdom, specifically, getting Roos to hug me.

Is this dangerous? Yes. Is it the key to salvation? Double Yes.

In this video, Jess and I found a roo at the base of the Grampians, and I went in for the kill..

Next, Jess and I popped into the Werribee Open Range Zoo, and I used my turn-of-the-century-British-heart-of-Africa-explorer accent in an attempt to lure the fairly large and surly Eastern Grey Roos. The encounter did not go as planned...

Well, as you can see, I may have hit rock bottom here down under, but so long as it's on video, we can get some enjoyment out of it.

Peace,

Nick

Back from the hills - September 17, 2007

Hey all,

Jess and I just got back from some sublime camping up in the Grampian Mountain range, although we officially revoke any Aussie use of the word "mountain" from now on.

Fantastic couple days hiking in a relatively venom-free animal kingdom, plus I got Jess to climb her first mountain. Quite brave actually, when you consider it was called "Mt. Difficult".

We found this sign on the way down, rest assured Jess would have left me there if we'd seen it on the way up:

















Also, this here was a simple recap of our experiences at Ballarat, wherein I try desperately to receive the unfettered love of the animal kingdom...


Oodles of photos are up in the album, check 'em out at this link:

Grampians

Talk to you all in a bit,

Nick

Quick Pics - September 14th, 2007

Hey guys, about half of the photos are ordered and up on the photo album. Check 'em out in the Sydney Album.

Marty McFly - September 13, 2007

Ah, back to the horrific miasma of blogging from Melbourne.

Life continues on the usual course of relative amazing, but hampered with my inability to get photos in this space to convey that.

I got my saturday protest photos back from the developers today, (film! can you believe it? I felt buttoning up my spats and dialing a rotary phone.) and as expected, they kind of suck. I'm organizing and captioning all the photos right now, and the videos will probably be worth a shot.

Looking forward to looking forward at the end of my time here in Oz, as Jess and I are buying a car and driving across the country. This weekend we're off to the Grampians:

Should be a blast.

I'll let you all know what happened on Monday.

Oh, and the Pies are up for destroying the Eagles tomorrow, so look out for that, we're premiership bound this year kids.

p.s. Ian, according to the rules, you have to ask, and I have to say yes. Although...still...

The calm after the calm - September 9th

Hey crew,

So the march went "fine", as in peaceful and short. No one really arrested, least of all me. A bit of craziness with some neo-nazis, but all went well in the end, as in, nothing happened. The march went along the brief, police-designated march path, and wrapped up in the quant, police-designated protest park. I have to say that if this is what Australians call dissent than they deserve to watch their country turn into a desert.

I'm sure the march served as a good introduction for all those who had never been to one before, and hopefully this event kindles their future usage of their right to disagree. But frankly...sigh. I'm not harping for violence, but I feel like protests, when done like this, are almost completely irrelevant.

Anyways, I got to spend all of Sunday enjoying Sydney, and I'll put lots of pretty photos up on Monday. Oh, and the internet here blows, and all of my protest day photos are on film (for security), so there won't be anything snazzy until Mon. Sorry.

All my love guys,
Nick

Mic Check - September 7, 2007

Well well, what an intense day. Still not arrested though, but a bit more notorious to say the least.

Today was, as I expected, more about goofy green protesting than tomorrow is shaping up to be. Police presence like a bad rash, and everybody nervous.

I felt like a professional though, I don't know if that sounds good or not, but I clearly knew my way around antsy cops and counter-protesters. Surprised myself with how prepared I was, and played it safe (ish) from start to finish.


Started the day at a peaceful human banner on Bondi beach put on by the tamest green group on the planet, Get Up! Australia. I think all they're trying to accomplish is getting rich people to drive their lexus just a little less.

Spent the afternoon at Hyde park, especially with the peacebus people, where I was put into circulation as the go-to guy and built about 17 dancing skeleton people and countless skull lanterns. Basically I got to saw and hammer a lot of stuff, and was quite content.

The real highlight though, without hesitation, came when I summoned the courage to speak at the open mic. One of the bravest moments of my life, really. To have the audacity to speak to a large public about your thoughts in a matter which you feel is both unique and potent comes with some amount of trepidation. In the end I didn't speak as well as I could have, but it was my first time, I got a lot of applause, and a couple people came up to me afterwards and said thanks. Feedback I desperately needed, as my confidence was pretty rock-bottom.

The night ended up with lots of rain, some bared bums, and a diva dance party with all the stuff we'd built. Not exactly a tough protest so far, but I'm pretty sure Aussies just don't care enough to run a full riot out of this thing. It's good for me though, I don't need the temptation of hearing the wall is coming down. That would be very bad.

Tomorrow's rally starts at 10am, I'll keep you in the loop after that...

-n

p.s. Blogger is screwing up, and I can't get any more photos up. Hopefully tomorrow I can put up all my vids and whatnot.

On the ground - September 6, 2007

Landed in Sydney tonight. It's a police state here to say the least. Choppers buzz overhead continually and what can only be described as "packs" of cops loiter around.

A bit overcast and drizzly, so no photos yet. Pretty horrid train ride to get here so I'm bushed. I'll probably try the security zone after this post and see what it's like, then tomorrow the day starts with some goofy green actions.

Really early in the morning off to Bondi beach to make some sort of human banner, and then in the afternoon we're going for a world record mooning. I guess it's not Oz unless there's a naked bum in there. I don't really like green actions, and I certainly didn't come here to partake in them, but the reality is that I am going to be pretty constricted in my choice of protest and will have to take what I can get. The authorities sure are spoiling for a fight...

For a quick idea of what this whole APEC thing is about, I'll refer you to the always amazing Aussie comedy team, The Chasers.



Oh, and they were just arrested for pretending to be Canadians and sneaking all the way into the exclusion zone. They figured no one would really bother to check. Gorgeous.

I'll post tomorrow night after a day of silly democratic foolishness.

Love,
Nick

Backs to the fence - September 5th, 2007

Hey guys,

As some of you know, I'm off tomorrow to protest the APEC summit in Sydney. Lots of preparation and consternation as there is quiet fear of deportation. The odds are pretty low, but the Australian government really is flexing it's muscle on this one and I have to be smart.

A lovely train ride across the countryside should provide lots of relaxation enroute, then a day to see Sydney (what isn't encapsulated in a massive, expensive, security fence), then the major protests begin on Saturday and Sunday.

I'm a bit nervous about this one, namely being able to restrain myself from fully participating in democratic action, and having to resist when the moment arrives. The stakes are just too high though for me to risk arrest or deportation, seeing as the office needs me fairly badly. James did an excellent patrician job of reminding me that after a lovely and costly trip half-way around the world, I'm not allowed to get sent home.

Lots of photos will come, but not from Sat and Sun, when I will not be using my digital camera but instead easily-transferred film. I'll be posting every day for the next week or so, so keep in touch and you'll get some idea of what the APEC summit is really about...

Nick.

P.s. For the Aussie secret service, which has no doubt picked up on the keywords I've used in this post, let me clarify that I'm no terrorist, but one of the millions unwilling to accept the state of our world, and willing to use my voice to say so. See you on the barricade.

Oh, and if you guys were going for "scary", David Hasslehoff shouldn't have been your inspiration.

Oh yeah, not to forget... - August 29, 2007

My search for bizzare signs in Australia continues unabated, and has morphed into some sort of arthurian quest, made all the easier by the sheer amount of strangeness that abounds.

Anyways, there is a new photo album up that houses the best ones to date, you can find it under the Australia section of the album. Link is that way ----->

And for sating your needs at this hour:

Funnily enough, it's always cheap to have your pet put down...

Wet rocks are still hard rocks - August 27th, 2007

Sorry for the long-time coming for this one folks, I have such a terribly difficult time getting photos, and now, videos, up on the blog in any sort of useful time frame. Of course, I could simply just post words up here, but we remember those days, the dark days, when men were pigeons and the gods wore Lycra. We shall not go back.

Lots and lots to celebrate down here in Aus, the winter is fading very quickly into blistering heat, and we whet our hours with footy matches, trips to the southern seas, and spanish.

Jess and I headed to the south-east coast on Saturday, place called Kalcunda, and she transformed, not unexpectedly, into a denizen of the sea. Photos are not needed to procure in your imagination the contrast between Jess' unnerving oneness with the sea, and my salty, choking, spluttering mechanisms quite common to those raised on the great, dry, prairies. Never the less, had there been lifeguards, they would have been concerned.

Also, in a move to worry both my mother and Sarah, I picked up train tickets to Sydney next weekend to join in the APEC protests. Should be understandably horrible, seeing as deportation, rather than detention, may be my forecast. I'll let you all know more this week.

I guess finally I was able to drag Jess to a footy game, and the appropriate videos have joined the ranks at the photo album. If you haven't been be lately you might want to, all photos are up and ordered, albeit not captioned with my usual horrid witticisms. Actually, the timing might be perfect.

I'll throw this post up now, and hopefully tonight retreat to a parlor of the "internet" to get some photos in this space and perhaps a vid or two.

Anyways, adios,

Nick.

Signs - August 11th, 2007

So,

I was going to write on and on about how poorly I've communicated what I actually spend all my time doing, and how crazy/active life here is. But as I began to select photo highlights from the Dandanongs, Mornington Peninsula, Barmeh Millewa, Warrnambool and others, I was struck by the large collection of bizarre signage I'd collected photos of. Maybe these can give a glimpse of how truly messed up this island is...

Sign One: Ballarat Animal Preserve

Hmmm...Sounds pretty nasty. All that "lightning-fast" stuff, and the "20 young" thing. Waitwaitwait.. "Common"?! Welcome to Oz.




Sign Two: Mornington Peninsula

You've probably seen this on my Facebook site, but I think what I really need to clarify is that I took this photo in a national park. I'd hate to see what the signs for littering look like.

Sign Three: Nepean Military Base

Ummm...geee...I dunno...mmmm....I mean, I don't to be a promise breaker...

Sign Four: Warrnambool Estuary

Come see the World-Famous Historic Hopkins River Bridge! Oh no, wait...





Sign Five: Warrnambool coastline

Or: Please Keep Mindful of Sea Monsters

Sign Six: Dandanong Highway

Not much here for most of you folks, but for a certain new puppy dog my family just got who shall remain unnamed, this sign goes out to you. Don't be pee on my stuff man, it's not cool. Actually, that last bit goes out to all of you, seriously.

Sign Seven: The White Lotus Restaurant

Now, Melbourne restaurants are delicious, and the ol' Lotus here has got to be one of my favorites; but I will tell you one thing, and you had best listen closely: It doesn't matter who you think you are, you do not try to sneak cake into Mr. Lee's restaurant. There is a cakeage fee for a reason, and if you don't respect that or maybe think it's a little funny, he will fuck your foreign ass up.

Sign Eight: Fishtales Restaurant

Here you are Bob. This one is all for you. I asked some people where I could find a good vegan restaurant, and you know where they sent me? To a place that sells 'effin spiders. I am seriously done with the cuisine in this country.

Anyways everybody, that should tide you over for a couple days, have fun.

Data - August 1st

Today I started the new door program, in a new city, with new staff, in a new country, for a new client. Everything went great, and in between great gulps of relief we are all taking a step back to realize how good a company Public Outreach is.

We really are the best at what we do, and I don't mean making money (forgive me boys). I mean that there is to my eyes no greater source of talent, compassion, and knowledge than the pool of activists at PO. A job where die-hard morals and the tendency to weep for the world will get you a sense of satisfaction instead of a bitter, hardened edge. Work that demands that you are never satisfied, not even with your choice of employment. A place where I build standards higher and higher, only to look over my shoulder and see they were set so tall, so long ago. A discovery of trust. A cult, a damn good one.

I'm looking forward to completing the cycle soon, and being employed with a certain NGO I've had my eyes on. Much like my admiration for Kappa Sigma drives an urge to give back, Public Outreach fuels my need to expand, create, and repay. I hate to say it, because I can't take it back, but we are a very good company, one of the few; one of the ways out. Proof of escape.

Other than that, today Jess patched things up between me and the gorgeous Kiwi girl at the neighbourhood cafe. You see, the other day I was right about to shoot the most absolutely drop-dead look at my favored coffee-slinger when Jess totally wiped out on the floor with great clamour. I guess I kind of looked like an ass when, instead of helping her up, looking concerned, or even flinching with worry, I just kind of looked disgusted with her for ruining my moment.

Well, you know.

Anyways, Jess patched things up by letting the lady know I was single and amazing, and now I get to try all over again tomorrow. She doesn't even know who it was who sent her all those flowers last month...

Finally, a note to Nat, who left for her home in the Netherlands last morning: We already miss you terribly, and our house certainly isn't the same without the smoldering cooking. Thanks for the moments, I'm sorry I didn't trade enough for them, but three nights is never enough.

Farewell All, I think this experiment in writing about life without the neccesary capability to express it should draw to a close,

I'll write more when I actually should,
Nick

When you've got time for no-news, it's time to share. - July 31st

Okey Dokey,

So what's been going on down in Australia? Lots. Work has been a real devil, as the whole reason I was sent down here was to start a program that is finally getting up and running. Considerably, I'm spending sixty hours a week at work, and looking forward to planned weekends a month away.

I did get a lovely/crappy, new/used bike though, he's yellow, and his name is Sparky. I don't know why, these things just happen. And then you have to live with them.

Melbourne in the "winter" is great, it's like Vancouver but with half the rain and it's 10 degrees warmer. People are still bundled up in beanies and scarves, so we of the pale northern sun get to swagger down Flinder's Lane rugged and hardened. Word on the street though is that Australia tends to get quite hot in the summer, so I'm predicting less rugged, more sweaty. Oh man, do the ladies like sweaty.

Like I may have mentioned before, I barrack quite relentlessly for the Collingwod Magpies, the undisputed Team to Hate in the AFL, but also the sharpest looking in a jumper. Here is an idea of what makes footy so good:

here

Have to run very soon, guess I'll just say I start work for Greenpeace tomorrow, and then this weekend seeing the Collingwood v. Carlton game, then catching a train to somewhere with a lovely Costa Rican girl. Needless to say, I started Spanish lessons last week. So it is.

Jonesing very hard for the old Hali-life right now, especially since you monkeys are decorating the web endlessly with your photos and summer bbqs and undying happiness.

Anyways, quite a spurious and useless posting, but sas I said, when there is no news, let the world hear.

Fair Dinkum,

Nick

Okay, actually bleeding from the eyes - July 28th

Just a quick note while I sit inside and watch the clouds scream across my painful, hungover vision. I can hear the branches on the window, seven blocks away.

Anyways, I mention this to note that captions aren't actually done on the photos, and it's not my fault, because I will get around to it when my brain stops trying to stab it's way out of my too-small skull.

For now, feel free to invent names, places, and explanations. That's pretty much what I end up doing anyways.

Peace- N

That happy time between "busy" and "bleeding from the eyes" - July 25th

G'Day all,

Wow it has been a long time since I've gotten around to posting, and for that I apologize.

Not that things have been slow, in fact, quite the opposite. The daily ebb and flow of work just cannot overcome the crashing tides of an exciting life here in Melbourne. I have been working full tilt during the week, but have dedicated my weekends to fleeing the city of Melbourne and into the outback. A pursuit that my heart and mind have cherished, by my koala-flu wracked body decries. Well too bad body! We're going to the mountains!

I have far more interesting and simple news than the daily run down of my run-down life, concisely that I have finished, finished, putting up my Australian photos since I arrived. They're all ordered and captioned, so don't waste any more time putsing around on this blog, go check 'em out!

N.

In Communicado - July 4th, 2007

Hey All,

Quick note about contacting me, should you wish, which I require.

My phone number is 0423 123 680, but if you're calling you have to dial 011, then 61 (country code), then 423 123 680 (skipping the zero). I am seven hours behind PST, and then a day ahead, so now I'm really in the future.

My home address is:

14 Raglan Street
North Melbourne
3051, VIC

Finally, posting comments on the blog, should the desire ever strike you, means a lot to me, so if you feel up to it, feel free.

Thanks all, I'll post something heftier tomorrow.

Nick.

In a way underway - June 27, 2007

Mmm, seems I promised quite a bit of news last post, so I'll bring it about to deliver, in that most succint and fluid of forms: Pictures!




Okay, so Jess and I are all settled in our unbelievable home, the fourth floor of an acting academy, with a roof top patio, and get this, a BURLESQUE club a floor below. It's called Cabaret Voltaire! Amazing! In honor of this dubious pleasure, and obvious affront to my work ethic, Jess and I are almost finished decorating the upstairs like a harem. It's quite stunning, here's a photo of it about 25% done, more to follow. The big top photo is the view from the patio by the way.


Now home is a pretty wonderful place to be, especially since our office, with a few minor upgrades since this photo, looks like this:









Melbourne, on the other hand, is absolutely gorgeous, albeit very flat. Jess takes a second to pose down in Fitzroy:
















Jess and I headed out on
Monday to Ballarat, a small town about 2 hours train ride northwest of Melbourne. That's right...I said trains! Weeee! Anywho, this is a very bad photo of the countryside from the train window. I will blame a particularily evil bottle of Jagermeister for that, and more about the bottle later, you guys are never gonna believe this...








You can take the alcoholic out of Canada...

Or Maybe...


















You can lead a Roo to water...



















But then, there is a reason we drink.

We drink because we cry...

For the kittens.


The beautiful, ravaged, desexed kittens.

Way up for a spekky - June 22nd, 2007

G'Day Mates,

A quick update until the weekend, when I'll have time to finish all my Mexico and Aussie photos and put up some meaningful words.

Over a week since we arrived now, and the ghosts of D and A are starting to fade away into my own concocted memories of my new city. Work is a massive part of my life, although hampered this week by a bout of flu brought on I'm sure by a Koala or something.

Jessica and I live in a burlesque show, I shit you not, and I'll show some photos and explain soon. I have to admit, quite readily, that life here is mainly puncuated by my amazing shared life with Jess herself, who is a ten-star human being. Life down under is bizare to say the least, and it's unbelievable to have someone to bounce it all off of.

Hopefully going to see some Penquins this weekend, and continue the twelve day drinking binge. Have also picked a footy team to augment my love of the sport, luckily they're totally hated by everyone and I get to pick fights all day.
Go Collingwood!

What a mess of thoughts, consider it some sad trailer for the onslaught of info to follow soon.

Love,

Nick

Sharing the cosmic - June 14th, 2007

Well, where to begin.

It's been almost four days now since we arrived in this blessed, dreamed land, and life has been so damn filling that I've been bursting within to express it to someone, whether electric or not.

I suppose as usual the temporal method of ascribing events would be best, but perhaps the blur of existence could be best conveyed in a more fitting, abstract story line. No worries, I'd say on the streets of Melbourne, advice I should take to heart now.

Jessica advises I begin with the total lack of visible poverty in this beautiful city, which although a somewhat underwhelming start, could be easily manipulated into a metaphoric introduction to our feelings here. Maybe: The hearts of Australia are ceiled, while the streets of our minds sleep barren and unrustled. No? I thought so. I guess I'll just start in the beginning. (Oh, by the way, I've decided that from now on on the all those occurences where I wish a word existed, I am just going to invent it anyway, so deal with it.)




Our trip here took 48 hours, and was suitably soaked in recycled air and drool, Jess providing one of those critical ingredients. I would like to deeply thank Jennifer Woodroff of Public Outreach for our wonderful seats located slightly above the fusilage of our aircraft, including the gulag-style feeding program and militant flight attendants. Our warmest regards Jen. Never the less, the extreme jet lag has stalked my every waking moment, most of which have been plumply stolen from my deserved sleep.

I have been mostly working since we arrived here, and the task of creating a thriving office, indeed creating a thriving country, has been rewarding and invigorating. Until I procure a home for Jess and I however it has been difficult to unwind and reflect, an essential part of such demanding days. Evenings of cheap scotch, misguided adventure, and a mysteriously salty rooftop pool do allow come element of relaxation however.

I must make mention of a beautiful moment in my life that happened upon me last night. Lately, as my journal will unhappily attest, I have been very torn about the directions and motivations my travelling life has wandered upon. Principally I have centered on the dissapearance of my previous travelling motivations, and the confusion that naturally besets us all when our paths become murky and unknown. Put simply, my first years of travelling echoed with purpose and direction, a resplendant passion and clarity unfound anytime previously in my life. As I have continued on my way though, the initial glow has faded as my goals were met, and I have worried hard recently about what my reasons for wandering still are, and what joys I can expect to pursue. Anyways, this is not time for a emotional tirade, fear not a recourse to those dark december days, rather a primer as to what peace decended last evening.

As Jessica and I stumbled off Fitzroy into the moonless calm of St. Kilda's beach, I found something I have looked for my entire life: a calm sky, the dirt of another earth, and the skies of a people I have never seen. The southern cross blazed crossways on the cosmic seal, and the echoed ghosts of my seasoned friends blew their Melbourne memories across my back. And the grains of sand fell from my fist. And the stars fell from my eyes.

I know one thing, that the spoken secrets of our heart are endlessly cheapened with their sharing, and held dearest when in concert with our silent lips. By speaking of the purest hearts I demean my passion, from my quieted skin you see a fradulent story, because we guage our greatest loves by their unshared audiences. So by writing here, in this most unpersonal and tarnishing forums, you can assume that I take lightly the occurances that grace my psyche. Maybe it is a grevious fault that I share this, I am open to the consternation, but please do not assume a moment told is a moment sold.

It was a very nice night. I found something I had put in a box a long, long time ago, and finding it again, forgiving, upon a strange island in the south oceans, I hope to never forget. There will be many years yet of wandering, should the moments grace me again, and please my glistened brow with the angelic peace of grace.

I suppose that's all for now, my thoughts turn over and over again to one source anyway, the pleasure of my place, and the gift of my companion.

G'Day,

Nicholas

Down Under - June 11th, 2007

Ah! Australia!

Took us 48 hours to get here, but anything would have been worth it. Ecstatic and whirling with life.

So very very much to talk about, and loads of photos, but the internet here is going down so it'll have to wait until tomorrow.

All my love world,

Nick

Scared - May 30th, 2007

Hey all,

Today my dad had a second stroke, and everything was really terrible for a while but worked out in the end. He got lucky again, and is still alive. I tried to write a big long post about seizing the present, and having the courage to make changes in your life even when it's all a big mystery, but it got a little too personal.

Anyhow, today sucked. I feel so lucky that I came down here when I did, because this could have happened anytime, and with me never making the steps to actually be my father's son again. I'm just so damn happy that he is still alive right now, and that I am not ending this day without a father.

Everybody hug your dad.

N.

The Birds - May 29th

Climbed Mountain.












Attacked by Turkey Vultures.











Vultures smell weakness, call other vultures. Vultures circle overhead...











Vultures go too far...

No. More. Vulture.

Perdon, estoy sangrando mucho - May 26th, 2007

Hello Hello everyone,

It's been a while since I've put together anything formative in this space, and while most often it is my leinent life that provides stale news, that is so very not the case these days. My writing of late has been a bit drab, so I'll try to pick it up a bit, but be forewarned there is so much I'm going to be talking about.

Headspace
Well I've been here in Mexico for not even 6 days now, and whether it is the heat or the saturation of pleasure, the days drip by slowly. I landed in Puerto Vallarta after flying in from LAX where I was totally overcome with an ignorant and yet undenyable hatred of the States. I'm sure that half of the bleached blondes flitting between chain stores were Canadian, but to my eyes, and without the moral burden of being a foreign guest, every animal in that cage echoed deadened eyes. I was anxious to enter a country of my own choosing, where I could encapsulate myself with the essential humility and respect owing a visitor. I'm not sure what the point of that story was, but I found it interesting at the time the contrast I was given between the normal judgmental mindset common in our own mental backyards, and the fresh optimism radiated from the unknown.

Hasta la victoria Gringo
Puerto Vallarta however, was a flashpoint slap in the face to my own nieve travelling origins. I had always considered my trip across Canada to be a warm-up lap, a chance to experience and survive the challenge of a new life, without the harsh daily realties of being a foreigner. To that end my journey was mainly successful, as I am a little weathered to the basic emotional elements of travelling. There are the somewhat crushing moments of weighty loneliness found in every strange room, or the ever-present jubilation at each unseen sunset and unknown terrace, these feelings are the same for me no matter the place. The real challenges were those which we can foresee, but only overcome with effort and determination. Ignorance, mainly.

Ola, me llamo Stupid
There was a big football game on Sunday afternoon when I arrived, and the money exchanges were all closed early. This meant that I had absolutely no pesos, no language, and no way to get my bus to Guadalajara. The airport terminal was filled with a hawking of wares and soliciting of tourists I had never experienced, leaving me quiet and overwhelmed. I passed by what I thought was a hotel room selling command-center, only to realize in retrospect that it was the visitor information, a mistake that could have saved me quite a lot of stress and money. (And adventure)

It does not take much to strip away one's social armament, and I stood obviously clueless and lost amidst an ever dwindling tourist stream. I grabbed a taxi to the bus station, hoping to find an open exchange, and was promptly hosed on the fare. It was a poor decision to head off without assurity, and when I got to the station I found no exchanges, but more so a complete lack of English. I don't mean for my surprise to sound ethnocentric, I am fully aware I have left my home country, but seeing as the station was just a quick jaunt from the airport, in a major tourist mecca, I thought more of the service staff would be able to help. No luck.



God I look back at that moment and hate myself, my complete and total ignorance. I look back at the fragments of that ignorance that I sorround myself with daily, and hate what I represent, the disrespect. There are a lot of vows made every day that I will never allow myself to be so unprepared as a traveller, although the reality of a trip is that sometimes that may be unavoidable. I guess I'll just have to work my hardest, or once more go through this daily gauntlet of humiliation.

Anyways, intensity aside, I found an amazing cab driver who spoke a little English, and he drove me all around the city for almost an hour on an arthurian quest for an open money exchange. Keep in mind that it was 7:00 pm on a Sunday, and doors were closing as fast as we could find them. One thing happened though that I felt was very peculiar:

It took no more than ten minutes in the company of a seemingly trustworthy person for me to completely forsake all iotas of travelling common sense and wisdom. I managed to commit both of the cardinal sins:

Left my backpack, with everything inside, unattended in the cab several times.
Removed giant wad of cash from pocket in public.

I suppose I was so damn relieved to have someone who was helping me that I just didn't feel like being smart at all, and just needed to put all my faith in humanity to the test. I won't say I was lucky that my driver was an honest man, I don't think that it is a lucky thing to assume people are good and trust them, but it certainly was the dumbest thing I could do. All in all, we found an exchange, and he dropped me off at the bus station, after almost an hour of driving around, for only 200 pesos. I tipped big.

Chapala
Ah, what a beautiful place. Chapala is a city of about 15,000 located on Lake Chapala, the biggest lake in Mexico, and serves as kind of a hub for all the small towns around it, many of them filled with Canadian and American retirees. Much like visiting a city like San Francisco, the inherrent architecture of the city, and Mexico itself, means that even the dumpiest casa look awesome to me. I mean, come on:



The town really changes between the quiet weekday afternoons, and the crush of visitors from Guadalajara on the weekends. I'm spending all my time with Dad and Yvonne, playing volleyball, eating, drinking, and catching sun. I'm very very happy, and finally being able to connect with my father is a beautiful moment in my life. I guess our bonding culminated last night when we got smashed on tequila, broke a wall, smoked cigars and talked until the wee hours of the morning. Then I drunkingly did my sonly duty and dragged his ass up the stairs to bed, before promptly falling asleep on the bathroom floor. Thats what I call a family tradition.

Going horseback riding tomorrow, and then I'll get a Chapala photo album up and going. Lots of postcards going out to all of you, but it's expensive so it's taking a while. I miss everyone, all of you across Canada who have been breaking my heart with so much affection and good wishes. To be honest it is getting very hard to travel, but I'll worry about that later.

Hasta Luego,

Nick

Spontaneous Inflammation - May 24 2007

Ola Muchachos,

I'm here in blistering hot Chapala, with every conceivable cooling device blasting away as I try to type before the spacebar melts into my hands.

Actually, it's too bloody hot. I'll write tonight about all the adventure when the sun goes down and the devil stops branding me.

Life as a constant - May 16th, 2007

Well,

Certainly has taken a while to find the time and space to write a little about what is going on with me right now. Which is a ton.

First of all for anyone who remembers how amazing life was out here in Vancouver last summer, nothing has changed. Still running ragged with Teresa and De everyday and everynight. Beaches, bottles, boats and bruises leave no time for boredom. Vancouver is as close to eden as I think most of us will find on this planet, and it makes me explode with happiness everyday I see the sun rising on the mountains or setting in the harbor.

Anyways, Big News, going to Melbourne on June 9th. Super excited but my work load has gotten quite mature and adminish. Not so much sun, more so computer screens. Argh.

My cousin Julie is dropping in from Whistler on Saturday so I'm looking forward to either making her a nice dinner or crawling blurry-eyed down Granville street.

Flying south to Mexico on either Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday. Spend a couple of weeks with my dad and get to know him again, then flying back up here for a couple days before Australia.

What can I say? Life is very busy and exciting, and maybe that means my posting becomes bland and boring. I'll find some experiences to write about, instead of an itinerary of my activities. Until then thanks for popping in, and I'll speak to you all soon.

Nick

One Sweet Year - May 8th, 2007

Well well, looks like I'm about to hit the old 24. "Old" being the main word there.

Just a quick note while I notice how amazing my life has been this last year. I celebrated my last birthday in Whitehorse, with an awesome package from my family in the heat of the Oiler's playoff run (I know, I'm not supposed to mention it), under the gaze of the ever-flowing sun. In fact, if I recall correctly I ended up in a garbage dump, check the old blog to see, it's actually quite an amazing story.

Anywho, after Whitehorse came Shambhala, then Vancouver, then Halifax, then Montreal, Toronto, and St.John's, and now Vancouver again. Whooooo. Now that's a well lived 365 days in my books.

When I left for the road I know it seemed abrupt and crazy. I certainly knew that as I stood at the side of the elersley exchange in Edmonton waiting for a ride to who knows where. But I had felt the weight of three wasted years upon me so heavy I felt running/travelling was the only way to be alive. And it has worked, regardless of the down times that necessarily came with life without a home.

So it's been 2 and a 1/2 years of sweet life, days filled with exhilaration and wonder. I am happy to be a year older, not wiser, but well spent.

Happy 24th birthday to me, but 25 is looking sweeter and sweeter every day,

Nick

Farewell to Nova Scotia - May 4th

Heyo,

Before I start writing at length about my life back on the road, it's important I take the hard time needed to say goodbye to my life back east. It's always something I postpone, as it makes me dig out thoughts that no one in your new home will think to ask.
It's not easy to sum up everything that happened in the last nine months either, but I owe it to all my friends back home.

Halifax.

I came to Hali after a couple of incredible weeks in Vancouver in September of last year. That night at a potluck at Becca's house (The Aerie) I was lucky enough to meet my boss and the wonderful woman who would become one of my greatest supporters in life. Sarah of course didn't know this at the time, so she practically kicked in the front door and demanded to know where all the booze and smokes were. Of course I hastilly add for Sarah's pride, she was right lickered (more so than I have ever seen since), and had just got to say farewell to a cosmic love interest forever. Barring that however, there is no denying one of the most epic drunk moments I have ever had the pleasure to witness, coupled with some group hugs soaked in tears and a very long argument that sounded a lot like this:

Nick: "Sarah, can I crash at your place for the next few weeks while I look for a place?"
Sarah: "Fuck me, another one? I'm just kidding, yeah yeah, you can stay."
Nick:"Awesome, thanks."
Sarah: "Where are you sleeping tonight?
Nick: "The hostel"
Sarah: "Fuck no. No no no. You can crash at my place."
Nick: "No, that's cool. I'm at the hostel."
Sarah: "No way, Fuck. It's scary there. Crash on my couch."
Nick: "No, that's cool. I'll just spend tonight at the hostel."
Sarah: "Fuck you. I'm your boss, you're not staying at the hostel."
Nick: "Ummm. Yah, that's cool. I'm just gonna go sleep at the hostel."
Sarah: "You sonofabitch. Come here, I'll fight you. Fucker. Fuck. Where's all the booze? You said there'd be booze."

(Okay, so the last line wasn't so very true, but the rest certainly was.)

Anyways, now that Sarah will never forgive me for telling an oft-told story of our first, illustrious wine-soaked meeting, I'll move on to the rest of my time.

Corey was one of the first dear friends I made in Hali, which was in tradition with my travelling luck at meeting incredible people with beautiful souls. It was with complete rapture that I roped him into living with me at our now famous domicile, Nimh. Corey, I know by now you have read the letter I left you and understand how much you changed my life. I need say little more to describe that gift than to tell you that just this morning I screamed Your Song by Elton at the top of my lungs walking down Hastings Street. That shit never leaves you. Thank you so much man.

Work at PO continued to be life fulfilling in a way no other job has done for me. The very nature of our task was to spread good and loveliness through the world, and fight off apathy, despair, and misery. Not bad, and made better by my rapid rise in our office that allowed me to throw everything I had at the cause. Through PO I met some of the raddest mofos of my life, and I won't go through the chain of names cause it's lame, but I will single out one man, Nathan Eliot-Doucet, as being the single greatest loser I have ever met in my life. The gift he gave me was that I finally came to terms with how cool I am, and how important it is to never drop your babies on the floor. Yikes.

Ian arrived in November, and although his company was, and continues to be, a balm for my heart, things did not exactly go as planned. The next two months sucked very very hard. And most important I need to apologize with great passion to N and L for putting up with me when I should have been a better man to them. I'm sorry that everything turned out like it did for us, things were weird and dangerous in my head.

Well, anyways, since then life has been exemplary, a beautiful mix of all my life's elements. At home I had Nimh, the single greatest testament to domestic life I have ever seen. A mansion on the 'Gric, bordered by a liquor store and a coffee shop. Sun in, sun out, the days rose and fell with dancing and music. Dinner parties became common, long talks into the night mandatory. The introduction of Clare into my life, no matter how near the end of my time in Halifax, was a gift. If ever I have seen two personalities dangerously akin it would be with her. Ferocious high fives huh Clare?

At the same time Sarah was busy with the little stuff, like patching my family together, getting my life on track, and pushing me to succeed in facilties I had never attempted. I have said, and will a million times, that without her I may still have been the shattered boy from months past. So that's the big stuff, but the thousands of little moments in every day we spent together are what made us friends. Drunken, drunken friends. I owe you a lot, and I miss you far more.

So yah, life was great, got a surprise trip to Newfoundland with Sarah and Nick Lachance right at the end to really make it hard to leave. Man Nick you were amazing that weekend. I have never seen you less worried about life's problems and yet more inflamed with the dynamism of your personality. Just stop sweating the small stuff man, you're like a brother to me.

I don't even know if I'll be back to the east coast in a few weeks, so I'm ready to have egg on my face. But even then I think I'll be mostly up in St. John's, without time to say all this anyway. The east coast is incredible. I had amazing infused into me at countless costume parties, coffee shops, indie rock shows, classy dinner soirees and drunken crawls home. The music of the streets and the music of my house, the songs we all brought in our pockets to dinner and breakfast. Early days lit with battered sun on the rocky shores, late nights of eclipsed moons on citadel hill, these are the hours I lived my fullest.

The gift of travelling is this, the unreal swarm of beauty you are suddenly allowed to notice and thank in every place you find it. The walks in sun dappled streets where you can turn to your friend or yourself and say "wow", and take a deep breath. The freedom to scratch every surface and suck every single inch out of your life. You are allowed to never be content.

The burden is this, a lonely blog entry and a thousand stupid words, when a single pint at Charlie's would say it all. The burden is this, the loneliness and ache as you push away those you have grasped so close, the tears in airports and highways.
This life is not a blessed one, I know now, it has been years on the road for me, and it never gets easier. It is only the promise I have never heard spoken that it can only get better. In the next town, the next face, the future slashed open down the middle, ready to run screaming into. I can only hope this is the right choice, because I have abandoned all too much for one life for this to be wrong.

I move on now through Vancouver, down these sunny green streets, awash in a love I almost forgot I had. I pace waiting for Ian to arrive and complete the perfecta. De and T are watching out for me, and I hope to pull off this trip to Mexico financially. Regardless, life goes on, but not so much seeping, much more so breathing. Deeply.

I love you all. Thank you.

Nick


Cheesy P.S. Notes

Becca, I once answered you by looking into your eyes. Do you remember that? That is what I would say now, and will say to you for the rest of our lives.

Corey, you and I will see each other sooner than we think. Prepare an island for me, I'll bring the tea and the sunrise. I don't know how to tell you how I miss you, so I hope you just get it.

P.P.S. This is how my day went today:

Thousands of Kilometres - May 4th

Hey!

I'm in Vancouver again, something of a shock though, I hope that it doesn't wear off. I am so far behind on the photo album and blog posts, but hopefully today I'll find some time at a cheap cafe on Davie and catch up.

Just really wanted to put up a note saying I miss you guys in Halifax a lot and thanks for shooting so much love at me the last few days of my time there.

I'm all safe and sound Sarah, I'll call tonight.

Nick

Ace Fantastic Goes To Newfoundland - April 28th

Wow,

What a life. I guess to begin I'll say that there is obviously a huge backlog of communication from when I shut down the Blog in January until now. There are a lot of wonderful things in my life I'd love to share, as well as getting ready for the next big steps. I think of how hard it can be to come up with interesting stuff to talk about when you're blogging day-by-day, and yet how hard it is to even begin a conversation with so much to say.

I guess I'll just let you know what the heck is happening here in Newfoundland and leave the life stuff out for a while. There are also a million photos I have to upload and sort from the last while and they will really help tell the story. So patience will be a virtue for you guys as I get back into the swing of blogging.

Soooo, St.Johns....WOW.

This is the most beautiful city I have seen yet, the streets are windy and narrow, walled in by row after row of brightly painted east-coast houses. The streets are often cobbled and laced with narrow alleys, some christened titles such as "Malone's Lane" or "Sullivan's Alley", I think though that the names are just to ward off the obvious fear of mugging. If this was Europe you would have to be intensely naive to even consider strolling through them.

St. John's circles a narrow harbor that barely breaks through the red cliffs which block off the ocean. Nick Lachance and I took an amazing hike yesterday in the crisp sunlight and no more than fifteen minutes out of the city we stood upon battered meadows in awe at an oceanic expanse that covered the horizon. It seems to reach not so much across my eyes as back into myself, the dreams I had when I set out for Atlantic Canada and the beauty I expected to see. This is undeniably what I came out here for, although without Halifax to prepare me I would have simpled exploded on sight, this place holds so much stunning power.

The story of how I got here is pretty incredible. My dear friend Sarah told me at least two months ago that I had to go to our Kingston office to do some nasty work for five days, and for the last sixty days has been concocting what can only be described as an elaborate spiderweb of crushing lies. I am going to be completely unable to describe to you what going to Kingston would have entailed, or more importantly what not going there means to me.

I suppose you could understand my feelings if you imagined that you were about to be executed by a man shooting fire ants into your eyes, and then at the very last minute were told that instead of a cripplingly painful demise, you were going to Florida. Yes, you would be very pleased about a surprise visit to the sunshine state, but I'm guessing your immediate thoughts would be more along the lines of: "I am very happy that no one is going to shoot fire ants into my body." This is somewhat how I feel. Also there is an amazing video taken at the exact minute when I heard this news that is YouTube worthy, and will be posted when I return to Halifax.

I really am choking on all the words that want out here, I need to tell you about the bars, Nick and I and Sarah's foolishness, Sarah's new house, work, the weather, and a million other things, most notably, "Who is Ace Fantastic". I guess it'll have to wait though since I just can't do it all at once.

Oh, and you'll love to know just how exactly two disgusting pieces of Kentucky Fried Chicken made into my gullet today, and unfortunately still remain.

I'll write tomorrow, the resident vegan girls at the restaurant in town are having us out for drinks.

Cheers me old biys,
Nick