Archive for June, 2010

A New Adventure Looms

Well, it’s official. I’m going with my family to Jamaica in a couple of weeks.

Booking this thing was quite the roller coaster ride. It seemed like every day brought a new plan. We’re going to Florida, we’re going back to Cuba, we’re not going anywhere, we’re going to Aruba, we’re going to the Dominican Republic, we’re not going anywhere, Florida, Cuba, Jamaica!

I’d be lying if I said that I was succeeding in keeping my expectations of this trip low. I mean, the last time I went on vacation, I had the best seven days of my life so far. Expectations of this trip are understandably through the roof.

Don’t get me wrong. I want my expectations to be low so that I’m not disappointed. I keep reminding myself that Cuba was an ultimate stroke of good fortune, and will never happen to me again. But I still can’t keep my expectations down. The fact is that Cuba happened, and as long as that fact doesn’t change, I’ll be disappointed if Jamaica doesn’t turn out awesome as well.

But hey, if Cuba happened once, it could conceivably happen again. God willing, it could happen again.

Sammy and Josh

Sammy was in a good mood. Even though it was the final day of summer break, she couldn’t help but be happy. It had been a very fulfilling summer, to say the least. She had seen everyone she knew at least once or twice and had many good times with them.

Oddly enough, the person she had spent the most time with was Joshua. She hadn’t even known him a year ago, but over the past twelve months the two had become close friends.

As the sun began to set, Sammy decided to call up Joshua. She only had a few hours of summer left, and she wanted to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment out of it. She proposed that they go for a walk, and Joshua agreed. Thus, the two of them set out for their last walk of the summer. As they walked, they talked. That’s all they ever did together, really. Sometimes they would walk and talk. Sometimes they would lie down and talk. Sometimes they would play catch and talk. But they were always talking. And that was enough for both of them. They never did anything particularly exciting together – no trips to the cinema, no amusement parks, no intense games of mini putt – and yet they managed to have fun together.

About half an hour into their walk, Sammy steered the conversation turned towards their plans for the future. Joshua usually dismissed any talk about the future as pointless, but Sammy was feeling brave on this particular evening.

"So Josh, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Joshua stopped dead in his tracks. The response was disheartening, though not entirely unexpected.

"Okay, sorry." said Sammy. "I know you don’t like talking about that stuff. My bad."

But Joshua still didn’t move.

"Josh?" said Sammy. "You okay?"

"That’s not my name," Joshua said quietly.

"What?" said Sammy in surprise. Then she realized that she had never called him Josh before. She wasn’t sure why she had called him by that name now, but clearly it had upset him. But why? Josh wasn’t an offensive name. It was just a short form. And then she came to a second realization.

"Noah?" she asked Joshua.

Joshua nodded.

Of course. Noah was the only one who had ever referred to Joshua as "Josh". And now Sammy had committed the cardinal sin: she had reminded Joshua of Noah. She had inadvertently done this a few times over the course of the summer, and each time the result was the same. Joshua would become unbearably downtrodden for the rest of the walk. He would stare silently into the abyss, barely aware of anything going on around him. On previous occasions Sammy had tried to snap him out of his trance, but in vain. The damage was done. There was no way of getting him back now.

Sammy sighed. "Alright Joshua, let’s go home."

Sammy escorted Joshua back to his house. After bidding Joshua’s mother goodnight, Sammy headed back to her own house crawled into bed.

"Oh well," she thought gloomily. "Lesson learned: Don’t call him Josh."

It was simple enough to remember all of the rules. No discussions about tobogganing or icy hills. No belittling the importance of dreams. And now, no calling him Josh. But Sammy couldn’t help but wonder about Noah. Who was he, and how could he possibly have had such an effect on Joshua? She wanted to know more about him, but there was no way of learning more without asking Joshua directly. It seemed hopeless.

"Who are you, Noah?" she asked the heavens before falling asleep.

Somewhere thousands of miles away, someone heard her.



This was originally going to be longer, but I started running out of steam at around 2:00 A.M. That’s what happens when I start writing at 1:09. In spite of the fact that I was half asleep, I think I managed to pull a decent final five lines out of nowhere. Then again, maybe I’m going to wake up tomorrow, look at what I’ve done, and curse loudly. I’m already not a huge fan of that last line. It could have been far more epic, but I’m just too mentally drained to think of something better right now. Blah.

A Low Point

Man, what an awful week. I spent most of it on a couch, recovering from that aforementioned surgery.

Here’s the problem though. When I’m alone for hours and hours on end with nothing to do, I start to worry about stuff. My arm, in this case. It’s been bugging me for nearly four months now, and three different experts have told me three different things about it. It’s a shoulder injury. It’s tendonitis. My spine is misaligned.

Basically, no one knows what the problem is, but no one thinks it’s anything serious. Because I had so much time on my hands, I tried plugging my symptoms in to Doctor Google.

Yeah. Don’t ever do that. Because according to Doctor Google, I’m dying from three or four different diseases right now. Which makes me worry more.

And then a few days ago my knee started hurting. And my spine. And my neck. My body is betraying me, and I have no idea why. The great medical system of Ontario won’t put any great effort into finding out what’s wrong with me unless my symptoms get worse, unfortunately. So I’m left with vague reassurances that everything will be fine, but no idea of when I can expect to feel better, if at all.

The worst part is that I can’t seem to enjoy anything else right now. I can’t enjoy the company of my friends or family because of the constant fear that something is wrong with me. Fortunately it’s summer now, and I don’t have the added stress of school on my shoulders. That would be almost intolerable.

I just really want to feel like myself again, because this isn’t a way of life that I can maintain in the long term.