This is the journal I really intended to post.

I was talking to Gwen on the phone last night. She accidentally sent me a text that wasn't meant for me: "Lets wait a while to tell Arty that we're back together."

I just ranted on someone else's journal. Yeah, talk of homophobia gets me a bit riled... whoops. :/

So a quickie from me to you on Thanksgiving day in CANADA!

Well the other day these terrible contractors the company we're using to renovate our downstairs washroom (a.k.a. powderroom :) ) showed up for the third time only to have the incorrect materials.

Drunk and riding around at 1 AM. This is not how I imagined remembering Rick. He is indestructible. He was indestructible. It’s so hard to believe he’s gone, within one passing second a drunk driver sped past the cross-walk, his best friend unable to pull him back, that fast. Poor kid, he blames himself, I can tell. They say he was killed on impact. That’s good right? Not much pain?