The Journey Home (and what the little Jew found there)

Holy shit. There is so much to report, and so little time to do it, so I've come to a sort of compromise with myself. I'm going to type REALLY REALLY quickly in an attempt to compress the totality of this past week into the smallest time space imaginable! In this way I will emerge victorious over fate, destiny, and fatalist destinies.

In other news, I am no longer in New York. I have arrived, safe and soundly, with snow crunching beneath my feet, in the Nation's Capital. Comic interlude:

AMERICAN BORDER SECURITY *DUM DUM DA DUM DUM DUUUUUMMMMM*

Malicious sergeant/small-penis-man/border patrol terrorist insurrection put-downing specialist/aka urban warfare against the mofucking evil of canadian tourists and their flap-eared hats, god damn freedom hating flap-ear wearing commie sludge-sucking pro-health-care pansy lily-sniffing wimps! (-hater): ALRIGHT YOU BITCHES, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND SIT DOWN! (As previously reported... though I never realized how true it is that some people literally talk in capitals, before that night)

VERSUS

Canadian Civilized Cross-Country Communication and Civility Courtesy Consortium (aka CANADIAN BORDER SECURITY *dum da dee twiddly da doo twiddly twiddly doo dop baaaaa*): Hi there! Did you pack your luggage? Oh that's wonderful. Are you carrying any firearms or other weapons that might pose a potentially hazardous threat to the health of your lovely neighbours? No? That's really great. Please carry on and have a splendid early morning!

This has not been an exaggeration.

So on a darker, more sombre, more contemplative, isolated, Jew-alone-in-the-world melancholic kind of reverie thing, as I gazed upon the rolling pre-dawn hills in upstate New York, crested with what was surely a little bit of incipient fog, just waiting to roll down into the slumbering cozy forest-nestled family cottages spotting the land, I decided then and there that the world was beautiful, and you know, anguish-ridden and sad and lonely, but fundamentally in some perservering way beautiful, and would always persist in being so, would always find ways of showing me these fleeting glimpses of beauty, no matter where I went, what I did, or how lonely I by myself became.

And then the hills went their little hilly way, and before I knew which side was Upstate (badum with a muffled ching), I was in Ottawa, and, well, you know how that old wives' tale ends.

And if today's blog appears even marginally more schizophrenic or hysterical and unrestrained than usual it is because of the explosive collusion of different emotions that are currently, probably, wreaking total irresponsible carnage on my spleen and hypothalamus. Not least of my worries is the quite realistically probable possibility that I will not in fact graduate this year, not at all, not even remotely, and be stuck lingering on in perpetual Ottawa-clinging Carleton-snuggling limbo without the stupid piece of processed tree flesh with ink particles that everyone worships and hugs and cherishes and calls by the strange and cryptic title "Deg-Ree." And if they had feet would we call them pedigrees, and feed them, and polish their coats?

But even more troubling is that nagging sentiment in the back of my gut that tells me, in not-so-subtle ways, that maybe what I in fact want is, in the end, NOT to go to grad school, but instead to fuck off, to wander blithely in some foreign country, getting myself into tremendously awkward but retrospectively hilarious situations, and above all to live and live wandering, alone and sometimes not. I'm an idealist, a romantic, a fool, a putz, a yokel, and worst of all a shmuck with a penchant for the melodramatic. But am I a scholar?

So much has happened, and so much continues to happen. There is literally too much to say. I've learned that the eye of a writer, the nack, or the foolhardiness (call it what you will) that enables one to overcome the horrible places of silence, is seeing in the minutae of existence these little fascinating details, and I think part of it is also the ability to shake them loose, shed some light on their brief, fractured, shifting facets, and make of the mundane something new... something transfigured and... and... well... I've used that other word too much today, so best perhaps to shelve it lest it become old and worn like so much tired cloth.

Which is really another long-winded way of saying I'm way too goddamn wired, sleep-deprived (thank jesus for making me immune to the curse of sleep in interminable bus trips, for lord I know not what I would do, being all warm and well-rested like that), and way way too confused to make any kind of coherent statement about anything except my own almost utter incoherence.

But rest assured, there is much still to report from the goings-on that most assuredly went..on.. in New York... not least of which shall include: EXCITING AND SPECIAL MOVIE REVIEWS! Stay tuned!