It feels good to have a title.

Birth canal and air and white clean space and movement movement movement.  Emotions cresting high on waves, crashing down on the beach.  My memories a dead dried up jellyfish. 

Walking home from work and my vision is cloudy.  This pavement squeaks under my shoes.  The smell of asphalt and life.  Movement enveloping growing stretching. 

Sitting alone in my room waiting.  A white clean space to live.  People moving in and out, water sliding down my cheeks.  A cool dry place to rest.

Looking and thinking, telling and listening.  Totally emersed in water, sitting at the bottom of a lake.  Waiting waiting waiting.

Well, i'm on Facebook now, i guess i'm not that old-school after all.

I went down to the beach yesterday.  There was a red tide.  Which means little red algea are swimmin around.  There were many people, but no swimmers.  I jumped in and swam around till i was numb.  It's ok to swim in red tide, as long as you don't drink the water.  Or eat shellfish.

Today i found out Kitslilano sucks.  The people there are rich scum of the earth bitches.  The real-estate is nuts in Vancouver.  Property going for double what it is in Missouri.  I should work for a tourism agency.

It's been a while.  Does anybody still do Xanga?  I'm too much of an old school to switch to Facebook or Myspace.  Xanga is phat.

My name is Patrick Gibson.  I live in Vancouver, British Columbia.  I work as a dishwasher/saladmaker at a restaurant called Incindio's.  I have no car.  I rely on the fabulous metro system here.  (Makes the KC Metro look shameful.)  I live in a house with three other people. 

An aunt, uncle, and Jessica Kratz.  My wonderous girlfriend.  In a few months, Jessica will be moving back to Missouri to go to school in Columbia.  I think i'm going to stay here and do something with my life.  Maybe join the army.  I'm going nowhere right now.  So maybe i should get my act together. 

Or maybe not.  Right now i'm drinking a 40 oz of Old English. 

I bought it at a liquor store for nostalgic reasons.

Again!

I am still in Canada.  Still alive.  Here is a bullet-way of telling you what's up.  Since i cannot find the bullet symbol, i will instead use asterisks.

*Working at a restaurant called 'Incindio's' as a dishwasher/saladmaker.

*We're going to see Rage Against the Machine at the end of the month in Indio, California.  We'll be taking bus/train.

*Happy 4/20, it's was nice to be in Vansterdam on this day.

So.  That's about it for now. May your trail lead you to the answers you seek.

Hey there you.

I'm still in Canada.  Things are progressing.  I'm actually unemployed right at this moment.  But tomorrow i will begin some training as a high-rise window washer.  I'm excited about it.  I don't like heights, but i think i can overcome such inconvenient preferences.  Jessica is still busy at school.  She will be getting her work permit next week.  Since i'm a dual-citizen (or dooly, as they are sometimes (never) referred to) , so i enjoy all the rights and privileges of a Canadian citizen.  No, i'm not an imposter.  I deserve everything.

By the way... I have transcended myself. 

Adventures are plentiful in Canada.  I had a week long gig in asbestos removal.  One day, eating lunch on the porch of an old run down house, i spotted a woman walking down the street ranting and screaming.  She cursed the passing cars, the buildings, the sky.  It was a bit odd.  Soon she spotted me, and began screaming in my direction.  She marched up to me swearing and pointing.  I ignored her, peeling my orange, but she was planted, waving her arms, screaming about murder and children and hate.  I wasn't really listening.  Anyway, i led her back to the road, looked are her and told her "its going to be ok" i know, i know" "it's ok".  Then she started crying.

She eventually left.  If i had to guess, i would say PCP.  Though crack is a close second, perhaps with some shrooms thrown in.  This happened in Surrey, the worst part of the Vancouver area.  The house was full of graffiti and needles.  It's all gone now.  So is the asbestos! haha. 

Life.

You should come visit us.  You'd enjoy it.  Email me.

Bye Bye

P.S.  My story of the crazy lady is not a solid example of what life is like in Vancouver.  It is a very beautiful city with a very diverse population.  There is twice as much scum and crime in Kansas City. 

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