Me, Myself, And I'm Dreaming of The Trans-Siberian

The rest of my sojourn in far Eastern Ontario ended up being wonderfully lovely. Tuesday was a far better day with beautiful weather (and the thickest early morning fog I've ever seen) and only three school presentations, one of which was cancelled. I actually had the time to go to a little restaurant and sit down with a breakfast meal. I chitchatted with a man named David who has three jobs and doesn't drive a car and the too-sweet-to-be-true waitress later directed me to the local park where I literally said OMG out loud in my car when I drove up to it because OMG it was just that pretty. A tiny gazebo in the middle of a big pond anyone? I took a walk in my open-toed heels and then hit the road with my windows down, rocking out to my music.

Driving along CR-18, I wondered if Chris Brown's Forever with the bass cranked up was disturbing the local farmhouses when all of the sudden a ginormous church appeared on my left hand side. It was St. Raphael's church, gutted by fire and then restored so that only the stone walls and foundation stood. My heels clicked slightly on the stones and every step I took echoed. I walked out the door behind what would have been the altar and overlooked a cemetery and rolling hills. I heard nothing but the breeze. For a moment I was taken back to India, when I used to climb the stone steps to the little temple on top of the hill and just sit there gazing over the fields of Anaikatti, listening to the cows and the distant voices from the village. With my heart stilled, my breathing deepened, and my head clear(er), I took one last big breath and slowly got back into the car.

I spent the rest of my day in colonial Williamsburg, chatting with the local shopkeeper, walking around and then doing my second, and last, presentation of the day. The too-sweet-to-be-true guidance counsellor gave me tips on where I should spend the rest of my afternoon and so I went to Gale's and got butter tarts to die for, bought some gifts at Auld Kirktown and putzed around the little shops in Lancaster just like she suggested. By then it was about 2pm, so I took off across the border, braved Quebecois traffic and found my way to Montreal where I met friends for tea and dinner.

Also, tell me if this is weird: Wednesday night found me hanging out with my friend Dan's parents. I went to their house with wine, we chatted, they gave me a tour, we went out for dinner, they showed me their garden/dock/pontoon/homemade fish habitat, and then we had cake, tea and wine. Most of my co-workers and friends told me that it was weird that I was hanging out with a friend's parents, especially because we weren't dating (Dan and I are close, but he's already in a wonderful relationship), but that thought didn't really cross my mind at all. So what's weirder: me hanging out with them or me not thinking it was weird when everyone else did? OR is it going for a massage and having the masseuse tell you, "You have very nice body mmm," right after she just finished touching your bum and, "You have skin like the baby"? This scenario, fortunately, did not take place with Dan's parents or else yes, that would have been weird.

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While cleaning my room yesterday afternoon (I know, as a twenty-something I never thought I'd ever have to do it again either, but you really should have seen the state it was in), I came across a sheet of paper from my last term in school that was titled, "My Immediate and Forthcoming Future." According to that piece of paper, my plans ended in August of 2008 when I wrote, sort out the rest of my life as a To Do item for the month. Man, for a person who lives out of a car/hotels and has a bedroom that looks like it threw up on itself, I'm pretty organized.

Welcome to mid-September of 2008, a time when, not only am I gainfully employed and being paid to work, I'm also being paid to live. Work covers accommodations, my rental car for two months, gas, a cell phone with long distance privileges, all food, and dry cleaning. They even covered the two bottles of wine I bought last week (as a gift for Dan's wine-loving parents). I've hit the jackpot. Too bad I have to give it all back in November. And with the end of my contract looming just a month and a half ahead of me, I can clearly see my plans running out from underneath me again.

But! As life has always been mostly kind to me, I'll probably have a fair chunk of money put aside that I can blow on further globe-trotting. This time, I'm looking towards lots of time spent on trains and exploring vast, vast landscapes....
4:08 pm