one more day

I can't wait

disappointed

Less than a week, and it is all happening. I have heard the Bar Call compared to a wedding, and now I can see why. The stress and drama has reach epic proportions. Remember how my dad was deported? And we were all waiting for see if he can get a transit travel visa? Well, he got it, and has chosen not to come.

Why he couldn't just lie and say that he didn't get the visa, I do not know. I only know how much this feels like a slap on the face. I never thought I would understand him, or how my mom turns this into a lecture of telling me to 'grow up, and let go' of that relationship. I want to believe that he still cares, that he must, that I'm his daughter despite everything. But every shred of hope he seems determined to destroy.

So at this point, my mom is the only one coming, while the support from my friends have been incredible and touching. I guess I did the right thing banking on my friendships rather than trying to cultivate relationships with my family.

It's suppose to be a happy day, but I am so sad.

My Bike Now has a Basket

I know it makes little sense, but as I was riding my bike last week, I was inexplicably delighted that my bike now has a basket. It just seems to be a sort of small wish that came true that makes things so much better. I got a bike a year ago when I moved to Edmonton, and I wanted a basket for it to carry, primarily, groceries, as my car had not been shipped out here yet then. A wicker type basket was what I imagined. But then the car came, and winter came, and the bike was readily forgotten. In the business of the everyday, those small things that could have brought so much pleasure are soon forgotten. But summer comes almost unexpectedly quickly, dogging the heels of spring. And one day you find yourself in a bike shop filling up the tires again, and the coolest basket appears in front of you. It’s black, metallic and detachable, none of what you imagined, but exactly what you need. And you wonder why you ever waited so long.