three years post

Speaking of birthdays, which I wasn’t when I overlooked Dan’s in the excitement of having a day off and going to visit the folks with Maigen, October 14 is this blog’s. And this one is the third. Birthday. In case I lost you in that dazzling display of convoluted sentence mangling… I’ll start over:

Happy belated birthday, Dan. I did send you some good thoughts on the 12th. Happy birthday also to my blog which turns three today.

My god. So much has changed in three years. Me not least of all. Not least by far, if this blog is to be believed. If it weren’t for this chronicle I imagine I wouldn’t think I’ve changed all that much. But I look back at my mindset and it’s my outlook that has changed. The way I tackle the world.

I’m more confident. More aware of just how afraid everyone else is of all the same things that I have been afraid of. Knowing that everyone else is human too is a huge, huge advantage. And it’s not just something you can hear somewhere and assume. It’s a deep awareness that colours your whole attitude. Guess that’s why they have two different words for confidence and bravado.

Just three years ago I was going through a pretty big shake-up of my personal life. Less than a year had passed since moving back to Victoria from Vancouver and my club had been destroyed by arson for the second time. I was settling in to full-time at Wondermill and a much less glamorous lifestyle. My love life was bleeding to death because of a girl who just didn’t like me as much as I thought I liked her. Maybe one of us was better at being honest with herself. Then again maybe she really was a twat. We’ll never know and more importantly it doesn’t matter.

Meanwhile I was forging stronger friendships with the people who remain the most important in my life. And I was soon to let go of the most important person in my life. So important that she rarely appeared in this chronicle except in anonymous reference. Let go, and pay for it. But paid in full, and that’s a Good Thing, because here I am with no regrets.

Three years ago my life was streaming through the climax of several storylines. Hers. And my dj career. After the fire at 11 Stones I completely lost interest in being a dj in Victoria. No other club could compare. No other club ever had, and certainly not since. For a year I put it all away. That would have been it if I hadn’t been lured back by a couple of the old crew who now managed another club. It wasn’t the same, and it never could be. I had some goood times, but my heart was never in it. I was working full time at the Mill and developing a life in daylight. Much of it is in these pages. Much of it isn’t. The real story is often between the lines.

And here I am. Back in Vancouver. Older. Wiser. Happier. Three years ago my life had a glossy sheen. Now it has a warm, deep glow. In January I decreed that this year would be the year of sweeping and fundamental change. And so it has. So it has. Such a long way I have come…

Some of you have been reading since the start. It’s important that you know you are appreciated. Some of you have been stalking for ages and I really wish you’d just say hi. If not, don’t worry about it. I’m glad you’re here anyway. (I have a special place in my heart for my regular readers, whether I know them or not.)

Some of you read for just a little while, while you had a personal interest in the story. It wasn’t me you wanted to read about so much as what I might say about you or someone you know. That’s fine. And it’s fine if you no longer read because your personal interest is no longer a personal interest of mine. It’s also fine if your personal interest is gone and you still can’t help but continue to read, for whatever reason. So long as you can accept that I’m writing for me and not for you we’ll get along fine.

Not that I don’t enjoy entertaining. Hells no. I’d be lying if I claimed I didn’t sometimes take a certain tack knowing it would be good for a reaction. I’ve come right out and said as much often enough. I think people in general are idiots, while people as individuals are generally not. So long as you can show me you’re thinking for yourself, and you really are thinking, I’m overjoyed to enter intelligent debate with you. All the more so if we don’t agree. That sort of person seems shockingly rare, however. So many never bother to think beyond the soundbite. So many don’t actually seem to have the ability. And yet they loudly declare their opinion, regardless.

So. Here we are. Three years of me loudly declaring my opinion. Whether you and I are best friends, complete strangers, or acquainted only through a psycho ex-girlfriend I am truly, deeply, thoroughly happy to have you here. I’m not sure who is more entertained: you or me.