Young woman moves to the "city" (of less than 100,000 people) with her older brothers, who were dating chicks in town, and they all decided to live together. Older brothers find some new chicks, or they skip town, or whatever dumb shit it is that straight men do, so the women kick the sister out, and now she's homeless.
She was working at the motel where one of my other downstairs roommates currently works, and the staff all pooled together their "two nights a year" benefits so she could stay in the motel for a week or two, but then she was homeless again, so now she is living in our laundry room.
I haven't met her yet, but i have met her alco-pop cans in the recycle bin.
Today i went out for a bike ride again. The weather was "good", in the sense that it wasn't as cold as earlier in the week, but there's still a bit of snow on the mountains and a cool breeze. "Good" is a bit of a bummer on the weekends, because it means tons of people are out and about. Even still, i felt that rush when i got to the offroad section and BMXed through the sand, up and down hillocks, bunny-hopping over roots like i was a kid again.
Country life is okay. God knows i am much happier here than the couple weeks i spent in the damp, suburban sprawl of Vancouver. I have been so lucky to be able to pick my lockdown spot. I'm not sure anywhere else in Canada would have made me happier over the winter.
But, yes, it's still cold, and we're still locked down, and i still feel trapped.
I was thinking about a comment on my last entry, and what i would have on my desert island.
I definitely need sun on my desert island. I am resilient enough that i will take whatever weather the world throws at me (although i might complain about it), but nothing makes me happy like sunlight does.
I also need a tree, because i have pasty white skin that burns easy.
I need booze. I have quit booze and other drugs from time to time. Like not just "taking a break" (if you're an addict, you'll know), but legit over a year without. It was fine. But, there is a sort of comfort i have in my haze. It's been a constant in my life since i was pre-teen, which is problematic i know, but hey. It's me. When i am not hooked up and i'm not working, i don't think it really hurts anyone. Let me kill myself how i want, you know?
Anyway. I need coffee. Obviously. Life without coffee i might as well be dead.
I'd like a place where i can hang. So not really a desert island with nothing. A desert island with a small community, with some places to dance and chatter. I suppose it would have to be a tourist destination too, otherwise you're just going to get the same 5 guys every day, and that's boring. If the island won't change, the people definitely need to change.
Internet. Or, i don't need internet so much as some kind of connection to infinite books and articles and whatnot. I am a child of the digital age, i am perhaps in the first generation of cyberpunks, and without a computer my life is pretty much worthless. I can't read the same story over and over. I need new stuff or my brain atrophies.
I've been listening to the Pirate History Podcast, and wondering what i would be if i had been born in the 16th or 17th century. Grandchild of a bureaucrat couple, a merchant and a nurse. Child of a soldier (then merchant) and a scholar... I don't have the entrepreneurial spirit to be a capitalist, and i'm not creative enough to be an artist. I'm not merciless enough to be a fighter, or patient enough to teach. I'm not smart enough to be a navigator or an engineer. But i do like to read. So, maybe, a priest. Not for the faith, but because i'm lazy and would enjoy having the church pay me just to read a lot and pontificate from time to time.
Although, i suppose i am not really much for public speaking, or inspiring people.
Fuck, i don't know. I would be a shitty 17th century character.
But i do wonder about that life, you know? If i was legit on a desert island, would i survive? What would be my special ability? What would keep me from getting my throat cut if my little tropical paradise got invaded by rapscallions? Maybe i'd be a propagandist, a scribe. Someone to document the adventures of people more ambitious than myself. I think i could do that. I'd probably feel just as dirty about it as i do writing software for big VC-funded companies, so that fucking tracks.
Anyway, happy Sunday everyone. It's Sunday Funday. I got drunk on the beach.