I’ve been taking a lot of paperclips home in my hair. And pens. I could probably furnish an office pretty nicely with what I have inadvertently been stealing from work. I think I need a haircut. Also, I need to return some pens.

I decided to go see a naturopath, not because I felt particularly crappy, but because I wanted to bolster and support the good health I have now, before I don’t have it anymore; you know, be PROactive with my healthcare as opposed to REactive. The decision was made easy, as my Chiropractor operates out of a Health Arts clinic—so, should I want to try acupuncture or iridology, or have a hot river stone massage (and you can bet that I have)… it’s all right in one place. Dr. F is a new addition, the first naturopath on staff. He is hilarious—he shares my gently whacked sense of humor. We found some problems that I hadn’t previously considered problems, mostly because I’ve lived with them for so long—things like regular headaches, gas, bloating (and I’m putting this info out there because…?) Initially we decided to cut back my coffee intake, and reconsider the simple carbs I’ve been putting away. Now, after the second visit, wheat and dairy are off of my ‘edibles’ list for a month, and I have three concoctions to consume daily, the worst of which is Dr. F’s ‘tincture’ to support the processing of hormones and liver function, etc, etc. Oh, this is a foul concoction of nasty burning evil plant extracts, in a harsh base of pure fiery alcohol- there’s no chance of dripping it in the back of my throat and swallowing without noticing. Oh, gag, gag, gag. Nasty smoldering sickening grossness.

Other than that, I can’t complain. Two days, and I’ve survived thus far; hopefully the bounding good health, high energy, bright eyes and glossy coat will come within the next couple of weeks. Aren’t I lucky to live in a time and a place where I have the option of supporting health rather than battling illness? I will always be grateful for these bountiful and colourful good years of my life.

Namaste.

It has actually been a profundly busy few weeks, a busy month. Love it!

This past Saturday, Sarah and I went on the Skytrain into Vancouver and did a walking tour; we met a variety of characters, and I got to practice my Japanese with some students of The Good English on the train. Sarah noticed how my gestures reverted to 'Japanese style'-- unecessary awkward giggling, and clasping my hand over my mouth when I was feeling uncertain. We walked into Stanley Park, across to Kits Beach, down Davies, up Robson, and into the Greek Taverna that I sometimes go to with my Dad-- but to our great good luck, it was Bellydancing night, and we caught a bit of the show as we slowly downed out pitcher of sangria. I should say I slowly downed the pitcher of Sangria-- Sarah is allergic to alcohol and only drank about a glass-and-a-half! Highlights:

1) Japanese practice with Natsui
2) Meeting Wendy in the Artist's circle in Stanley Park (see http://www.wendysmillionaires.com)
2.5) Meeting lovely vacationing Mexican ladies in the line-up for the girls' potty... I knew Vancouverites vacationed in Mexico, but I wasn't aware that it happened the other way around!
3) Getting stung by angry somethings near the swings (actually, not such a highlight)
4) Having a 'moment' with a gorgeous seal at the Vancouver Aquarium- she looked me in the eye!
5) A ride on the minuature train and smelling the good smalls of the warming summery park
6) Finding secret passageways busting with blooming rhododendrons to Kits Beach
7) Finding Kits Beach busting with warming summery people
8) Beautiful boys on Davies Street (for looking at only, dontcha know!)
9) The Japanese Combini on Robson... mmm! Mochi-mochi!
10) Sangria! Bellydancers! Calimari! Laughing our asses off!
11) Eating the previously purchased Mochi on the steps of the art gallery, people watching, and getting offered ecstasy and acid...
"I'm happy enough as it is," I said.
"Wouldn't you like to be even happier?" asked the dealer.
"I don't know if that would be safe!" I answered. This beautiful life is drug enough for me, methinks.
12) Back on the Skytrain heading home, a good-looking home-boy told Sarah she was gorgeous. Her elation lifted me, too. She is gorgeous after all, and every girl loves to hear it.

A dozen shiny pieces of Saturday! Live it up, folks... the summer is short, but it's yours if you grab it!

One of the huge reasons I want to walk/bike to work is because of the connection I get to the rotation of the seasons-- it's not something that you can really absorb from the seat of a car. I went outside during my lunch break today, and happened to notice that we have gone from the 'season of the profusion of dandelions' to the 'season of the blossoming of buttercups'. The apple blossoms and magnolias have fallen; the dogwood is bursting in pink and white. I see these things, but I don't soak them up and metabolize them the way I might if I worked or travelled outdoors more often.

I remember Bubu saying something about there being—what—28 or 32 or 36 (or more?) seasons in Japan, dependant upon what there was blossoming (and no doubt based upon what was good to eat—what a foodie culture!). I know it has got to be the same here, and I keep on having the feeling that I’m missing them somehow. It’s the same feeling I get when I see a trailer for a movie that I want to see, over and over—and somehow I magically manage to completely miss the movie in the theatre (and to be honest, half the time I miss them in the rental store ten years down the line. Does anyone know where I can rent ‘Almost Famous’? I really want to see it...).
So, the question is—am I missing out because I’m procrastinating? Or because I’m not focusing? Or is it simply because I am ‘home’ and I am subconsciously taking the magic of Western Canadian seasonal shift for granted?

I really want to move to another country again, and teach more English. I do. I’m not sure if it’s in the cards, though. I read today (on my Dalai Lama’s ‘Quote of the Day’ calendar) that you are only successful insofar as the sacrifices you had to make to get your success. So if I selfishly ditch a fabulous relationship to traipse around the world in a singularly absorbent fashion, I have made a sacrifice for my so-called ‘success’ which does not exactly validate said ‘success’. But if my purpose in life is to absorb the juices of the world, up close and in-person—then is the greater sacrifice in staying put?

I need to talk with Nate about all of this—in fact, I’m sure I have. I stress him out, being so wishy-washy. I think he’s more of a homebody. He wants his garden, workshop, koi pond, friends, and hills to skateboard on. He’s very clear about his likes and dislikes and desires. I wish I could be more like him.

Today is Kurosuke's last day on the roads of the Lower Mainland. Kurosuke is my delicious beast of a car, a 1981 Oldsmobile County Cruiser Station Wagon. She's jet black, with a propensity to drink gasoline like a rugby player with a beer-bong. The ominous beginning of her end came a couple of months ago when some idiot-- pardon me-- some careless citizen gave her a huge dent, via hit-and-run. Ahhh, but it's just cosmetic. She still runs like a dream, but the GRVD won't have her; thirsty, fume-emitting animal that she is. So-- Happy Birthday Dad! Now that you are 60, you need a cool black car to cruise the strip in. Kurosuke is going to live the wild life in Kaleden, soaking up the Okanagan sun.

As for me-- tonight I finalize a purchase. I am getting a little red four-door '94 Chevy Cavalier. I was bent on buying Japanese, but it's just not in the budget (or on the market).

What I really think would be best (for the environment, mental clarity, and my expanding booty) would be if I kept up walking and riding my bike...

Coffee breaks aren't really coffee breaks anymore; not for me. They are little slits of time that I can jam my own dreams and plans and doings into. Jam, jam, jam! The more I do, the more I'll get, right? I read that in my horoscope for this year: "The harder you work, the luckier you'll be." Makes sense. I was kind of rocking back on my heels before, waiting for the universe to hand me my gold stars. Now it's clear that I have to go out and earn those gold stars-- being a nice person, and having high hopes-- that's only two-thirds of the equation. Now I have to decide:

What kind of "lucky" do I want to get?