Friday, December 23, 2005
Day With The G's


All decked out at 1:30 in the afternoon.

Yesterday was surprisingly eventful. Greg and I have been exchanging emails for a while now, since he decided that it would be nice if we were friends again (I concur). Backstory: Greg is the dashing young man I was dating when I started this blog over three years ago. I referred to him in the second post I ever wrote: I hated holding hands until I met Greg. We've since gone our own ways, not talked in almost two years and last New Year's Eve, he got in touch.

I like hearing from him nowadays. His emails are the epitome of short and sweet:

Yo!
Sup?

Take care,
Greg

Most of the time there will be a PS at the bottom with the real purpose of the email. Earlier this week the PS was to schedule some more catch up time since we've seen each other twice in the last 2.5 years (the last time being this past June). So we hung out at Starbucks for 4 hours and just talked. Most of the conversation was that wonderful casual-haha banter peppered with some academia here and there, but then I managed to squeeze in the abridged version of the depressing story of how J and I split (oh come on, are you surprised that I brought it up?). Listening to stories about J (good or bad) was no doubt hard for Greg - J was the guy I left him for.

Amazing guy isn't he? Not only does he still want to be my friend after all the shite I put him through, he actually waited with me for an extra hour for my ride to show up, nearly missing dinner with his father. Holy freaking goodness, I'm lucky.

Speaking of rides, guys whose names start with G and luck, Gary showed up with just 40 minutes to get us to downtown Toronto for our date with the National Ballet of Canada. After a ten minute hold-up in traffic, not only did he manage to speed us down to the theater, he also parked the car while I grabbed our tickets and we actually made it to our seats right before the show started. I know this time business means little to you folks, so let me put it in perspective:

We had orginally planned to have two hours to drive downtown from the Starbucks. Two hours. We ended up with 40 minutes. Subtract 10 minutes due to crap-ass traffic, and we're now left with half an hour. This half hour includes not only driving time, but also parking time, ticket picking up time and seat finding time. We get to the theater with 5 minutes before show time. As I'm in line at the box office, the lights are blinking and that please-return-to-your-seats bell is dinging. Not good. By the time I get my ticket and am waiting for Gary to return from the parking garage, the lady usher at the front door is yelling, "LAST CALL FOR SEATING! PLEASE GET TO YOUR SEATS!! THE SHOW WILL START IN ONE MINUTE!!!" Can we say unnerving much? In that one minute, Gary shows up sprints towards me, we jet past the door people and bolt up three flights of stairs to our seats with barely enough time to catch our breath. Phew. Why should I ever doubt this man's abilities ever again?

And then, it began.

Oh, The Nutcracker, how I love thee. It's been three years and our relationship is stronger than ever. I can't believe I almost didn't come to see you this year and I'm sorry for even thinking about it. You excite me, give me shivers, I get goosebumps. I marvel at your beauty your strength your grace the way you move the way you move me the way I nod and sway to your music the way my body responds by closing my eyes and clapping my hands without even thinking about doing it. My sharp intakes of breath how I hold it in and I'm sure I stop breathing numerous times throughout my deep, peaceful, satiated sighs. God, you're beautiful. I wish I could capture you the way you capture me and share it with the world but for now you're in my mind my memory and in these words that don't do you justice at all. Stunning, fantastic, amazing, lavish, spectacular, unbelievable, absolutely awe-inspiring a privilege and you're worth every penny every minute every everything that it takes to be with you. You leave me breathless.

Le sigh.

If only I could find a man to make me feel the way the ballet does.