Waiting

The wait is finally over.

Tonight, I will see George Michael in concert.

Most of my life has been punctuated with liner notes from his intricate storytelling and beautiful music. This soulful artist has been a constant source of soothing influence in my life. In particular, I grew up on his music on the cusp of the post-Wham years and his beautiful soul and artistic vision have allowed me to mature unlike any other singer. He is an incredible artist who humbles me time and time again.

Through tumultuous times and joyful moments, George Michael and his interweaving wisdom and seductive mots justes have kept me company, allowing me to wallow in my pain during the grieving process and draw strength from within. Through the years, his melodic poetry introduced my precocious young mind to a world of bittersweet, emotional drama in succinct and yearning tones as well as garnering sensitivity towards the waning social capital in veiled socio-political songs that burst our weary hearts into action.

Moving On

He is finally gone.

The tenant from Hell has finally packed up and left. After eight months of inconsistencies, lies, and moist palm handshakes, I am free from all that negative energy.

During the past year, I have entertained thoughts of claiming the condo for myself, but in the end, I came to realize that paying the steep mortgage on a single income would be unrealistic even if I miss living in downtown Montreal and particularly in that beautiful high rise building. Perhaps it was not meant to be. After all, it was supposed to be an investment opportunity and that it shall remain.

Instead, I will finally be moving to my own apartment. Indeed, after months of rent vs. buy arguments, the former has won out for the time being. Part of me was not interested in buying my own place so soon when we had already purchased the condo. Then again, I shall become a homeowner on my own clock and it may well be that sanctuary I have been seeking for so long.

Almost

It is a truth universally acknowledged that some girls reverberate towards the archetypal tall, dark, and handsome boys who may or not be full of substance. As much as tall, dark, and handsome are decidedly winning qualities (at the outset), some girls require something slightly off-kilter, heartrending, and quirky to warm their hearts and arouse their sensibilities. Indeed, in Self-deprecating land, we are all about the introspective, bespectacled boys who dazzle us with their quiet fortitude, sexy wit, and funky geeky mannerisms.

This comic rocks my little world into hopeful bits and pieces.

courtesy of the brilliant Lev at IngredientX.com

Free Speech

So I have taken up writing again.

It is a bit funny to me because I feel somewhat reactionary in our fast-paced, bite-sized, blogging world. I think I am still stuck in the late 90s when I reveled in having and maintaining a personal homepage. Basically, that is what I am doing here for the most part. . . sharing my innocuous thoughts for myself and the idle few who are curious.

In keeping with my “this is not a blog” mentality, I had disabled the comments field on my blogs until very recently. I find this obscure quasi-mock-celebrity very weird. For many years, people followed my writing closely and it was a rather intimate communal space specially when Blue Skies served as my therapeutic stomping ground.

Therefore, a few people have left comments which I decided not to approve because for all intents and purposes, this is my quiet space on the web and when people want to spout vitriol to start with, then I am under no obligation to provide a forum for such opinion and views. Then, I receive email messages telling me off personally and so on and so forth.

Nowadays, free speech has become such a loaded four letter word. People think that because we live in a relatively free society, then their thoughts and feelings ought to be accepted, shared, and acknowledged without any discrimination. . . anything short of that is grounds for angry flaming. What a ridiculous thought. . . and this is not even on my more theme focused Armenian blog. . . where you can imagine what sort of free speech I may be impeding.

I just find it exhaustive to open myself up to people I may not even know or haven’t related to in years, people that want to impose their arbitrary opinions in such a disrespectful way on my personal space. As it is, this is my personal haven and there is a reason it is mostly hidden. So, find another soapbox to play with or play nice, people.