black bird singing
in the dead of night
take these broken wings
and learn to fly
all your life
you were only waiting
for this moment
to arise

black bird singing
in the dead of night
take these sunken eyes
and learn to see
all your life
you were only waiting
for this moment
to be free...

black bird fly

into the light of the dark black night

- john lennon/paul mccartney

Wow. It took a long time for me to decide to write this journal entry. I suppose I could have written this last night, but after sitting in front of my computer for 6 hours, completely trying to find something else to distract me, I gave up, and went to sleep. Let me tell you, it wouldn't be right to say that the past few days have been normal. They just haven't been. I've spent a lot of time thinking, thinking, and thinking. And as each moment passes by, I think more. Thinking... it'll be the death of me. *sigh* I don't know why, but the above song means so much to me right now. I think something is eating me up inside. Lord, help me.

I guess I should explain the reasoning behind my sudden dropping off the face of the earth for several days. I wasn't here. Short and sweet, right? No. Before I left, I laid in my bed, thinking for several minutes, then hours, whether or not I should leave a message that I was going to be gone for a few days. As you can see, I probably got distracted, or just decided not to, because I left no explanation at all, and for this, I apologize. I don't know why I am though, since I don't owe you anything - I don't know you, and maybe I'll never know you. Or maybe I don't know myself. Ah. I'll just stop.

Monday

Heh. I spent most of the day getting ready. I also spent a lot of time thinking again, whether or not I should leave a message, write and entry, or maybe just leave something of my leaving on the intro page. Hmmm, I think I'm obsessing about that fact. Let us get on, shall we? There were several things I needed to do. It seems that my father was able to get an even better cooler at an ever better price, and so I ended up returning another cooler, this time to Caldor. It wasn't a bad cooler like that one from Kmart, but we found a better one, as I just noted. Geez, I'm repetitive today. I also went around, had to mail a few things out, return CD's at the Wall (thank goodness for the lifetime guarantee on their music), as well as buy a few lawn chairs at Boscov's. At 4 for 30 bucks, how could I resist? I couldn't. I was thinking that maybe I could get them even cheaper because Dave works there, but when I went in, he wasn't there, and so alas. Perhaps the big event of the day was when Alex and I went over to the airport to see if I could pick up my airline tickets. Alex came along, because I needed someone to stay in the car while I jumped in to see ticketing. That was awfully nice of him, and I definitely owe him for that one. Nonetheless, it was a waste of time, because the way my father wanted me to get the tickets was through his dividend points, and it turns out that he was the one that needed to get the tickets. Grrr. So Alex and I spent a good 3 hours in traffic for nothing. Argh. It was still cool hanging out. When we had free time we played a few games of Do the Dew and ate at Nifty Fifty's. You can never complain about that. I certainly won't.

And so I was home at 9. And went to bed at 9:30. PM. How insane is that? Before that I hadn't gone to bed that early in over a year. It was terribly difficult, and I laid in bed, tossing and turning, knowing that in a few hours, at three in the morning, my father and I would be driving up north-east into Montreal.

Tuesday

I was asleep one minute, and then I was awake. I took a 6 minute shower (one of the benefits of having a shaved head is that showering is that much quicker) loaded my SINGLE bag compared to my dad's several packages and we set off under the glow of the half moon. I'm going to have to say that this was probably the best driving trip I've ever taken. There was just something about it. And I've taken MANY road trips, having driven to Montreal, Toronto, Washington D.C., Maine, Texas... all these places... but this trip was calm and serene. There was hardly any traffic, hardly any construction, and we pretty much cruised at a good 71 miles per hour the whole way. On a trip that should have taken approx. 10 hours to complete, we were in Montreal in 8. I was impressed to a certain degree, but it didn't really matter as I had other pressing matters on my mind.

I don't know if you've been keeping up, but I've always said how my dad was a womanizer. And because of this he always has a girlfriend. At one point he had more than one, and I'm not even really sure if this has changed. I'm not very impressed by this, but that's another story. Anyhow, this trip to Montreal for the most part was for him to be with his girlfriend.

Does it bother me that my father has a girlfriend? I have to admit, the thought of it slightly urks me, but since my parents have been officially divorced since January (after that strenuous 13 YEAR seperation period) I suppose I can take everything in stride. And that I have. I'm not quite sure on the exact age of my father (or maybe I just don't want to mention it in here *grin*) but he is in or quite close to his fifties. And his girlfriend is 26. Yep. For most people that would be impressive/disturbing enough, but the fact that she is absolutely gorgeous is even more shocking. I feel a shudder go through me every time I think that I could be very much attracted to this woman. And now, she is not only the girlfriend of my father, but also the mother of his child, and the mother of my third baby sister.

I very much stood on the edge of all of this, not knowing how I really feel about. Should I even feel anything? Should I even involve myself at all? I didn't know. And so I didn't know if I even wanted to see the baby. When we arrived, I decided not to, and after my father drove over to the hospital where my sister was born, I hopped on a bus, and took off into central Montreal.

I had never ridden the Montreal subway system before, but it was quite nice, much more user friendly compared to the Toronto and Philadelphia subway systems that I was used to. I made it into center city quite easily, and began my trek and adventure, walking up and down the streets of this French-Canadian city.

It was really quite obvious what sold here. Sex. Every where I went there were strip bars, huge pictures of naked women on doors, so every single joe, even children, could see. Is this what the image of a woman has come to? I hope not in all places.

Getting around was a lot of fun. It had been able since I really did any real walking around, and so it was nice and refreshing, especially after my long ride and my present bewildered situation. The people I talked to were charming, and the locals were personable, all things that contributed to this being a good trek. At one point, I saw a fountain (it's in today's visual stimulus) surrounded by many people, and people were having fun, chatting, resting, and doing other urban things. I said to myself, "what the heck", and after putting my bag on the ground, removing my shoes and socks, I put my tired feet into the cool water. It was quite relaxing, and I felt a shroud of restlessness melt away from me. It was something that I needed to do. After several minutes, I dried my feet off, laid down using my bag as a pillow, and rested eyes. Soon I was drifting off into sleep. And this is where I was:



I woke up rather refreshed (although initially slightly confused, since I wasn't intending to fall asleep), and with a stretch of my arms, I got ready to walk around again. The sun was coming down, and the streets were getting more crowded, I guess because school was over and all the night people were also coming our of the wood works. I saw many interesting people, hippies, punks, poor homeless folks, old women that thought they were 19 and dressed that way *gag*, and a plenitude of cool looking women and men. I guess I should note at this point that I ended up talking with a lady that I was sitting beside at the steps of this church where I decided to take a short rest. She was as tall as me, blonde, extremely good looking, and spoke no french. She told me that she was really just visiting, checking out the sites around the area, and that after a week, she'd be heading back California where she came from. I found her extremely charming, and so I offered to show her around what I knew of the area (which I admitted wasn't very much) and she agreed. We spent the next few hours watching the sunset, laughing at several mimes and drinking a few drinks at a restaurant called Egg Selent. Soon the night drew to a close and we promised each other that we would keep in touch, and we exchanged mailing addresses. Susan, if you are out there, bonjour.

It was 8:30 by the time I decided to part ways with Susan, and plus the locals were getting a little rowdy, NOT to mention that I was exhausted, so I decided it was time to head back to the apartment were I was gonna sleep. Once I got there, I jumped into the shower, stumbled into bed, and feel asleep. Should I also mention that Susan offered that I could spend the night with her at the hotel she was staying at? Well, I guess I just did, but I believe it was in good judgment that I chose not to.

My sleep was most restless.

Wednesday

I woke up in a groggy mess, hitting my head on the bed above me (I was sleeping in a bunk bed) at around 8:30 in the morning. I really had woken up earlier at around 5 to the sound of garbage trucks, but feel asleep again after realizing the time. I got dressed, knowing that my father was gonna pick up me up soon to have breakfast with me before he dropped me off at the airport. My flight was at boarding at around 2:05, which left me plenty of time.

My father was soon there after a few minutes, which was expected since I've never known him as being tardy. After putting my stuff into the trunk he told me that we were gonna be eating breakfast with a friend of his and Michelle's (my dad's girlfriend). Cool.

After picking Mary Ann up we drove into center city and went to Egg Selent. How funny. I was just there the day before. Anyhow, it was interesting enough. I neglected to tell you before that the service there is INCREDIBLE. They have three different waiters making rounds just to make sure everyone has a full cup of coffee, glass of water, and things like that. We all ordered and ate calmly, laughing at the various bad jokes that my dad insisted on bringing up. Ack, he can be so corny. Well, at one point one of the people making rounds was a sweet waitress (would it be wrong to note that she was also gorgeous?) who started talking to us. From the first time she stepped up to us you could tell that she was a half (is there a more PC way of saying that?) but I couldn't tell what. Around the second time that she came around she asked if we were out of town. My dad and Mary Ann were still busy eating, so I told her that I was originally from Toronto, but that I now lived in the Philadelphia area. She then asked if we were Filipino, at which I responded with a yes. She smiled and said that she was half Filipino. How cool. I wouldn't have known if she didn't tell us. She sat down for a bit and told me that she was thinking about going into Philly about the end of August, to visit her cousins which lived around there. I said cool, and maybe we could meet up or something. She also asked me if I had friends or family around in Montreal, and I told that I didn't have many - a few friends that I wasn't able to contact, but it didn't matter anyways because I was leaving in a few hours. I did tell that I was gonna come back in a few weeks, and she told me to definitely pass by and that she would take me out with a bunch of her girlfriends into town. I thanked her, we quickly exchanged numbers. My dad was laughing at me the whole time I was talking to her. Heh.

Well, after we left the restaurant we headed in the direction of the hospital. We got a little sidetracked on the way, passing on top of a cliff that overlooks all of Montreal so that I could take a few pictures and make this panoramic picture of Montreal. After that we drove towards the hospital to see Michelle and the baby. For the most part I was avoiding this moment, but I guess it would be only proper of me to say my farewells. And then it happened. I walked into that room, to see Michelle sleeping and by her side was the baby. A small infant, completely unaware of the world around her, and she was so beautiful. I believe my father and Michelle had chosen to name her Leah Ann, or something on that end. Should I show you a picture of her??? I guess I will:



While my father conversed with Mary Ann and Michelle I took my baby sister in hand and held her. So small. So innocent. I was suddenly engulfed with love for this little child. And to think, I originally didn't want to see her. How terrible is that? But now I'm glad that I did.

After all that my father decided that it was time for me to go, since it's always a good idea to be an hour ahead on international flights. We made our way there, but overhead we could see huge clouds rolling over the airport. I was praying that my flight wasn't going to be delayed since Alex was nice enough to change his plans to pick me up.

By the time I had checked in and gone through U.S. customs the electrical storm had fully rolled over the airport, and so fueling was delayed. The wait wasn't too long, as the rest of the storm changed direction and headed east of the field, so soon we were all boarded, and flying south towards Philadelphia International Airport. My dad was nice enough to book me a window seat since he knows that I always enjoy looking out the window. The only bad part was that I was stuck sitting beside a fellow that had a slight body odour. It wasn't a big problem though - I simply adjusted the overhead air vent to shoot the air past my nose, and that was that.

I had forgotten how the world looks so beautiful from up above. The clouds were gorgeous, like huge flying puffs of cotton, while the cities beneath looked like little ant colonies. Everything from up in an airplane looks so serene, so peaceful. It's almost a shame when we have to land. I had my digital camera with me and took several pictures. Here's one of my favorites:



And the rest of the afternoon was as expected. The plane landed without a hitch, and as I stepped outside of the terminal (I didn't have to go to baggage claim because I didn't bring anything with me besides my small duffel-like bag) Alex drove up. Perfect timing. He drove me home, agreed to meet up later in the evening, and I walked into my house. There were several pre-pubescent girls jumping around in my living room as I opened the front door. Ack. Friends of my sister. I quickly said hello and went downstairs.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. I do remember dropping one of Krys's friends home, but that's pretty much it. I think I feel asleep. Yeah, that's probably what happened. At any rate, my sister went to sleep over at her friends house, so I thought it was a perfect opportunity to have friends over. First day I'm home without my dad and I was already taking advantage of it. *chuckle* One by one people started to come over. There was plenty of alcohol and other party favorites, but I sat silently, content to be home and in the company of my friends. Perhaps the the only notable thing was that Kurt was the most drunk that most of us have ever seen him. There was a time when he could no longer even talk, and was just instead muttering noises. He passed out around 11:30, then started vomiting all over himself at around 12:30 all the while still being unconscious. Everyone pretty much took off after that, and I was stuck babysitting him. I was seriously considering just leaving a glass of water beside him in the case that he should wake up, but I felt bad, and the thought of waking up and finding Kurt dead on my deck because he choked on his own vomit wasn't a comforting one. I pulled up one of my newly acquired lawn chairs, and sat there for a good 3 hours. Just sat there. Watching as Kurt continued to vomit. How pleasant.

At around 3:30 he got up, still not aware of what was going on. He tried to convince me that he could drive home, but his falling down every step he took pretty much convinced himself that he was in no condition to drive home. I drove him home in his car, and told him he could pick up his car the next day. This is what he looked like when he passed out, with a few creative additions:



Thursday

I cleaned. And then left. I met several people during the day: Jack, Mia, Dave, Kate and Scott. Did other things that I can't really remember. And then the evening repeated the last, with the exception of Kurt, who decided to stay away from alcohol since he couldn't remember anything from the night before. Heh. At one point he came up to me and thanked me for saving his life. *laugh* I laughed and said that he would have done the same for me. Well, I think he would have. *grin*

Oh indeed, the lazy days of summer are finally here.



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