Oh hey, it’s me. Apparently, I biannually update this blog. One might assume that my extreme narcissism would encourage more consistent updates; I’d be the first to tell you that I wish it were so as well. As a convenient segue, narcissism is a trait akin to my millennial friends or Gen Y, which I thought suitably tied into my present subject matter. How felicitous indeed – and since good things come in threes, I’d like to wrap up my 2012 with the three most influential words that end in y.
Whiskey
Knowing me, it’s only appropriate that I should kick this
off with alcohol. Like all of the best things, this started with a good friend,
an HBC blanket and the rooftop of the Park Hyatt Toronto. Bourbon and scotch
are now good friends of mine; you’ll find me saying that brown liquor helps keep my
head straight. I’m betting that for most people learning to appreciate a new
liquor isn’t something to write home about, let alone call it one of your three
accomplishments of the year, but it’s not about the liquor itself; to me, it’s
about evolving one’s tastes and trying new things. Hell, maybe I just like drinking like an old white man. Moreover, I want to be someone who
never sticks with what I know (minus my multiple trips to New York per year)
and wants to move out of my comfort zone to learn to appreciate something new.
Puppy
Something new came into my life with four legs this year. In
the most advantageous way of being around a puppy, my roommate takes the
greatest care her Bowie (Christian name: David) and I get all the licks and
hugs that come with all the love and none the responsibility. And what I’ve
learned from Bowie is not that dogs are adorable (because I already knew that),
but that I could form an attachment to something so tiny and take such pleasure
in the simple milestones of a small creature. (I lost my shit the first time he
scampered all the way up the stairs.) Don’t worry; we’re not at the point where
my ovaries are on some strange overdrive. I still opt to deal with children
Stephen Harper style (i.e. shaking their hands), but it’s nice to know that
beneath the black pit in place of my heart lays a beacon of hope. In so many
ways I’m not ready to commit to any kind of responsibility like that, but I
know now that moving away from this dog will be one of the hardest things to
do.
Turkey
In the realm of those awful adult terms like “commitment”
and “responsibility”, one thing about me in 2012 still rang true, and that’s my
love of running. No, not jogging, but running from my own ennui. And boy, did I
run: to London, to New York, to Istanbul, to Montreal, to New York again, to
Boston, and to New York once more with feeling. All summer if I could get on a
plane, I would; if it meant spending a weekend away from my life in Toronto,
all the better.
I stopped running for a bit after Boston, but Turkey and
what happened before and after will shape where I go in 2013. Ominous sounding,
isn’t it? Because I am dramatic, I opted to write my GMAT the day before I left
for Turkey. I decided that it would either be stepping on the plane with a coup
or with a need to escape. It wasn’t really either, hindsight being as perfect
as it is.
But of course, an international trip is nothing without
international romance, isn’t it? Ah yes, this would come down to a boy, but not
entirely – I’m not one-dimensional. The experience would teach me to temper
(however, I’m not entirely ready to let go of) my “Before Sunrise”
sensibilities. But more importantly, I distinctly remember saying to one friend
(of the many words and tears spent on this subject) that I would be “relieved”
should it work out with this chap. And that’s something I never want to feel
again. I daresay I shouldn’t be relieved to put the proverbial nail in the
coffin of these sordid (not in that
way, okay maybe a little) dealings of mine.
I now know why I cried in public about this and why I
allowed this particular one to rattle me the way it did. Because all the
running was about all the things I felt I couldn’t control when things didn’t
go according to plan. The plan, as it were, was to be with someone who might
help back my MBA, in the form of shared accommodation or otherwise; but unless
a sugar daddy pops out of the woodwork in the next 6 months, it looks like it’s
going to be me and a lot of loans.
What’s easier said than done when the plan doesn’t go
accordingly is to re-write the plan and to roll with the goddamn punches. And
that’s exactly where I am now. Between Boston and New York (the last one) I’ve
done a lot of searching into schools, writing applications and re-reading my
undergraduate transcript (always good for a laugh).
2013 is going to prove interesting, but looking back on 2012
and the experiences, people and places that have led me to where I am today, I
can only ask for more Turkeys (soul-enriching travel), puppies, and whiskies
to get me there.
