By Lucy

New Alastor song! I’m so happy, I watch Hazbin Hotel just for him!

It occurs to me that there’s now 3 vaudeville-inspired songs about him. Maybe, when I get back, I’ll become a drag king and just do Alastor songs… I love him so much, I wish I was him.

I also love that he’s got a sympathetic backstory while not falling into the usual “Freudian excuse” trap. Because you can see how he enjoyed killing, and he went on to be a Hannibal Lector style serial killer. Sure, his first kill was ‘understandable’, but he didn’t have a moment of “what have I done” guilt and regret, he went ‘that was fun, let’s do more!’.

Well, time to stop putting it off. The Hunger is over, nut up or shut up.

I go to the train ticket site. Curiously, they’re almost fully booked to the end of the year. People who want to visit Vancouver in the winter? See the country covered in snow? I do find a berth that’s open on November 27th.

That works out. Gives me time to pack and prepare, pick up a few day jobs, hopefully get EI. Contact people in Vancouver.

Margaret isn’t in Vancouver anymore. She was having a hard time finding housing (as is everyone in Vancouver) so she gave up and went back to small-town Ontario. Toronto and Vancouver are the worst for housing in Canada, but the difference is that the GTA has lots of housing, whereas Vancouver is surrounded by mountains that limits how much urban sprawl there can be.

Guess I should pay Emily rent, too. Last month of that. I was on the fence about it, mostly because I’m broke and that’s half a plane ticket, but I figured if I’m leaving any later than halfway through the month I should. She had no comment to make about it, either for or against. This is all just me rambling in my head.

Once all the practical stuff is done, I fire up Subnautica.

I have a love-hate relationship with Subnautica. I’ll get the hate out of the way ’cause it’s short; I have thalassophobia. Which is specifically the fear of large bodies of water. Regular lakes, streams, pools, all good. Even Superior is fine to me, although you might have noticed me shudder every time I mention the boat going out so far the depth gauge can’t find the bottom. For me, the fear is triggered by the idea of going far enough below the waves that I can’t see the surface.

Which is the whole plot of Subnautica. You are random Joe, Esq. And you are marooned on an ocean planet when the spaceship you are on crash-lands. It’s a survival crafting game, but curiously among those, the map is fixed and there is a story of sorts, told via radio messages you occasionally get to your pod. The basic goal is ‘build a spaceship and escape’, but you can do whatever you want in the meantime.

The middle of the game is actually the hardest part for me, for two reasons. The first is that you have to scavenge the biomes that are too far from the surface for light to reach. The second is Reapers.

Even into the middle of the game, Reapers can kill you in one hit if you are unlucky enough. And the game deliberately doesn’t have weapons in it, so you can’t fight them. If you’re wily, like me, you can stock up on a stun gun and gasopods and painstakingly gas them to death over a period of 30 minutes because they don’t respawn, but it’s usually more effort than it is worth.

The later section of the game doesn’t bother me because you spend it exploring the tunnels under the main crater, and since my fear is triggered by being lost in the void, I find the tunnels comforting. Any one of the submersible vehicles infinitely produce oxygen, so you don’t need to go back up for anything.

It’s actually an impressive piece of coding, if you know anything about such things. The reason so many games in the late 90’s/ early aughts had your character die instantly if they came into contact with water is because water physics are hard, and so are swimming controls. Subnautica does a good job of it, and you can tell their swimming controls are spot-on because no one even notices. You definitely notice with other games like, say, Warframe, where turning underwater feels like walking around with your head stuck in a bowl of Jell-O.

I stream to the chat. Jeremy jumps in occasionally to make a weird Jeremy comment and leave. Paul spends most of the day listening to me ramble… I could be streaming to Twitch, but then I have to get all gussied up and stuff.

Eventually I boot Paul out so I can watch Hazbin Hotel.

I’m so excited for Season 2! Although it ends up annoying me, firstly because the show is releasing two episodes a week and not all at once (better than one a week, I suppose). I watch episodes 1 and 2 and no points for guessing I love Sir Pentious’ human design.

There’s… like… no Alastor in the first 2 episodes? What gives? Where’s my Radio Demon?

The romance story between Cherri and Sir Pentious is weird. Mostly because Cherri was barely in season 1, and now she’s got a song and she’s been promoted to main cast so she can pine over him. It feels kind of like filler.

Now freed from the obligations to Jeremy, I watch El Camino. It’s a good movie, probably watchable even if you haven’t seen Breaking Bad, although I’m not sure why you’d watch it if you didn’t watch the show. I wish it had shown more of Jesse’s setting up a life in Alaska as opposed to just being him trying to get out of New Mexico, because it started to approach torture porn levels of sadism by the end.

Josh was nicer to me than Walter is to Jesse. I joked with Jeremy that I could be a real supervillain if someone took the time to invest in me, but no one has. Josh could have used me more effectively than he did; he definitely threw away opportunities, to keep me out of the thick of things.

I woke up Monday and felt good. I actually started writing before I even made breakfast and a tea, I was so jazzed. A couple weeks to write, yipee!

There’s a show next weekend I’m debating going to, as sort of a going-away party. Panic! At the Disco covers, plus there’s an event in Thunder Bay every November called Novemburger. Basic food event stuff; they make a burger that’s only available for the month and donate 2 dollars to charity, or whatever. Hanuman’s been telling me about it for years. He used to try and eat every single one, but that was back when it was 30-odd burgers and mostly downtown PA. Now there’s 50 of them and some are all the way out in Nipigon.

Sure, a burger dinner and a show, that’s a plan. Once I post them on the server, Bjorn texts me; guess who else has a show on the same day?

“I’m not changing my plans,” I reply, “Are you going?”

“F*ck no, I can’t stand him.”

“Going to Con College next time?”

“Depends on when it lines up. I’m not going to avoid him, I’m not afraid of a fight. It turns me on a bit, actually.”

“Aww, do you have a crush, too?” I grin to myself.

“No! More like, you know, when a dog gets in a fight and the lipstick comes out?”

Ok, I really didn’t need that mental image…

Guess I should go surrender my plates. You used to get money back for it, but not anymore. Thanks, Doug. Emily asks what I’m up to.

“Don’t you want to hold on to the plates? For your next car?”

Not really? I can just get new plates when I buy a new car, I mean, what are the odds I can find these in 2 years when I try to buy one? Plus, I was thinking of vanity plates, and I kind of associate these plates with the 200 and my ex husband. And lastly, I view this as some insurance against buddy doing illegal stuff with the car without changing the name over. I cancelled my insurance, I returned the plates, not my problem.

It was a nice walk under the bare trees, sunny and warm without the breeze. They seem to have all lost their leaves over the weekend.

Go home, play more Subnautica.

I started a heated debate in the server by accident. I found an article that says it feels “embarrassing” to be in a relationship, and I have to agree. The article lays out more explanations than I have, but I have caught myself feeling vaguely embarrassed to admit I am in a relationship. Of course, part of that is me; I had a heck of a time when I was engaged, because saying ‘my fiancée’ just felt weird and elitist in my mouth. Also because I didn’t have a ring and people kept thinking I was lying, but I refuse to wear rings.

Among other things, like whenever I say I like to travel and people immediately assume I’m travelling with Kevin. I dunno, just the zeitgeist of the moment.

Time to clean up a bit. I asked what to do with the worm bin and no one wants it, so Jacob said to set them free. I go behind the building to a green space and dump them out. I also take down the few pears left over because they are past over-ripe, and dump them out as well. Some crows hang around, waiting. A feast for crows.

Walked down to TacoTime for lunch and dinner. I’m trying to space out my chores so I have one long-ish walk every day, as a reason to get out and stretch my legs. When I got home and had a taco, I felt super tired and napped for 2 hours.

Aah… it’s been a while since I had some time off like this. Emily and Hanuman work all week, so I have the apartment to myself as well. It feels luxurious.

In the afternoon, I’m supposed to go shopping with Kevin. I want a couple more bins, and I need a few groceries. He’s in a bad mood, though, so he asks for a rain check. Sure, I’m in no rush.

I sleep well that night. Better than expected.

Kevin is depressed. When I wake up Wednesday morning, it clicks.

Will he… miss me? Is he… sad I’m leaving?

Oh.

How novel.

I’m just so used to be the second place contestant… and if I wasn’t first, I didn’t think… y’know… no, it never occurred to me that Kevin would miss me when I was gone.

It’s hard, as someone who isn’t diagnosed but is most likely a psychopath. You don’t really feel pleasure from normal things, which is why so many turn into achievement hunters or adrenaline junkies. I’m not sure what list normal people go through in their mind when considering a relationship, but mine is always practical; how much prestige and money do they have, can they advance my career, etc. I think the question normal people ask themselves is usually “do I like this person”, and it’s not like that question doesn’t exist in my mind, but it’s further down the list. That’s part of the reason it took me so long to give Kevin an answer… I felt I owed it to him to make sure I really liked him.

Part of that is me and I won’t deny it. I never really considered what I wanted in a partner because… well, honestly, because I viewed myself as temporary and disposable. Who would want someone that was a dead man walking, who would always need care? Men are not trained to provide care and don’t consider it. I don’t often discuss it, but I only married my ex-husband to keep things simple, legally, for when I died… not because I loved him.

One thing that is true is that… I actually don’t know who I am without Josh. From 14 to 27 he was my guiding star, and I used my relationship with the Vagabond to paper over the fact that I don’t know what I want from a relationship if it isn’t Josh.

The polyps keep rolling around my mind. Did the doctors just save me from duodenal cancer, and a slow, painful death? Am… am I cured? Am I safe?

I don’t know how to live if I’m not dying.

What do I want to do? I suddenly have 20 extra years, or more. There’s no ticking clock, no sword of Damocles.

I can’t comprehend it. I’ve been dying since I was born.

“Why can’t we be in a relationship?”

“Because you have cancer. As far as I’m concerned… you’re dead already.”

Stopstopstopstopstop…

When it feels like all the world is wearing a frown
Put a smile on and spread it around

Paul messages me, saving me from my thoughts. “I’m awake, when do you want me to come over?”

“At your convenience, I have no plans for the day.” Except watching Hazbin Hotel.

Before he shows up, I watch both the new episodes twice. The fourth one is called “It’s a Deal”, and I correctly guess will contain maximum Alastor!

I will say… Alastor is different this season and I’m not sure I like it. He’s swearing more often, when part of his characterization was being a southern gentleman who only swears when he’s absolutely at wit’s end. He also just generally seems less collected and in control, which is his whole bit. The comments section doesn’t agree with me; everyone else seems to love it. I just hope it’s thematic and not a sign the writing quality is going downhill.

The songs are better this season, in my opinion, more songs you could conceivably enjoy even if you’d never watched the show.

I’m amused that Alastor keeps complaining to his mysterious benefactor to fix his staff, in a way that seems almost like a boner metaphor, except Alastor is canonically Ace. I’m annoyed that everyone keeps saying ‘well, it’s Alastor’s fault for going up against Adam’. No it isn’t! If he hadn’t held off Adam, Charlie’s forces would have fallen before Lucifer showed up! I dunno why everyone keeps acting like he picked a fight with Adam for no reason; he was the vangaurd!

Paul arrives around 9:30. As soon as he texts me, the hall calls, “Hello, we have a job for you! Fort Frances, 6 weeks, 6-10’s. Scaffold dismantle.”

Hmm… that is tempting. Fort Frances means no paying rent, 6-10’s means a lot of cash. Rough estimate would be 8k, which would set me up nicely for some rambling.

It would also upset my plans to be on the train at the end of November, and require me to work outside in the northern Ontario winter.

“Can I think about it and call you back?”

“Sure!”

I meant to grab my hour sheets and turn them in at the same time, but I’m flustered and confused now. I run down and hop in Paul’s truck. “The hall called.” I explain the job to him.

“That is a dilemma.”

It is, but by the same token, my first instinct is to accept the job. I’m really tired of being broke, plus this would definitely give me enough hours for EI.

We discuss it on the drive to the grocery store. When we get there, I call the hall back. Busy tone.

“Wanna just go in and talk to them?” Paul offers.

“I suppose.”

Now I have much less groceries to purchase, because if I’m going to Fort Frances for 6 weeks I ain’t coming back. Decisions, decisions…

“Fort Frances is good for you, because there’s basically nowhere in town far enough away that you can’t walk there.”

“I remember what Fort Frances was like.” I reply.

“When the fu…. oh, last year, Nestor Falls.”

“Yup.”

When we pull up to the hall, most of the parking spots along the side are taken. Paul starts to turn as if to park along the front, and I slap his arm. “No! Park along the side!”

He looks at me quizzically.

“The… classrooms… are at… the front.” I say sheepishly.

“Ah.”

Yeah, yeah, I know it’s super mature, blah blah blah.

I hop out of the truck and into the hall. Mandy smiles when she sees me. “So excited you drove out here?”

“I was out grocery shopping when you called.”

“So, you want the job.”

“Yes.” I mean. No. But yes. I accepting the job, big difference.

She starts telling me some other details when someone calls. I back away from the counter to give her some privacy, and pace, casting nervous glances down the hallway. The class is in the shop anyway. It’s tempting to go look at what they are working on, but I’m not sure my poor little heart could handle more stress.

“So far, you and Victoria are the only people who accepted the call. I still need 2 or 3 more people.”

I text Bjorn; the job would set him up nicely, not to mention he gets a warm place to sleep for a few weeks. “Was she at the SIBs?”

“No, she was out working all day and she was too tired. Sofia should know her, though.”

So, that’s another one down. Only one more sister I haven’t met. I text Sofia too, “Can you send me Victoria’s number?” I know the bus will get me to Fort Frances, but a ride is usually preferable.

Bjorn texts back. Too much time out of town, away from his kids, so he’s not interested. I’m a little disappointed, although it’s hard for me to figure out my feelings on it. Part of me had some mental image of sharing a hotel room with him. Some misguided attempt to recreate the dynamic I had with the Vagabond? I have no real connection to this guy, but I feel an instant and inexplicable bond.

We go back to my place and drop my groceries off, then grab the last packed bin and some loose things from my room to store in the locker. Once we store them, we head out to Paul’s place to grab the trailer.

“Candace is warming up to you.”

“Because I move firewood so she doesn’t have to?”

“Something like that.”

“Always a pleasure to be of service.”

That sounds sarcastic, but it is kind of true. I do feel a little guilty about stealing her husband on his days off, and pity for her chronic illness. Especially since I’m now a Rotarian and one of the mission statements of Rotary is performing service.

I text Terry, “I got a job in Fort Frances, you know anyone there still?”

“Nope. Hey, I’m glad you got something. I was worried about you.”

You were? Why?

I guess everything was really shitty for a hot minute there, but I always knew it would end once school was over and I could get back to work. I just had to get to that point.

The drive to the farm feels short, as does the time we spend there. Only one load of firewood today, Paul estimates we’ve stored enough that he won’t need any for 2 years.

“I’m sure you’ve run into a predator.” Paul says, off the cuff, as we’re loading the trailer.

“Oh, of course. There was my ex-husband. And my cousin, who tried to molest me.” I pause to heave a heavy piece of firewood into the trailer. “He didn’t succeed, though. I broke his nose instead. My parents beat me for it.”

Paul says nothing in response to this, and it occurs to me he might have said that as a joke and I’ve overshared.

Put a smile on and spread it around
With my smile, I turned the world upside down!

Back in the truck, away we go. My brain is going through the list of things I’ll need to pack to leave by the end of the week.

Paul waves to a transport truck as it drives past, “That’s the only truck driver who knows where I live, ’cause the other one ran over himself with his own truck a few years back.”

I sputter, “Wait, what? Was his last name [Redacted]?”

“Yes, yes it was. Why do you know that?”

“That’s Richard’s dad!” Richard entertained us one day by telling us all about the day his dad died – and I do mean entertained, because he told the story in such a way to elicit laughter – because he came in obviously drunk on the anniversary of it.

“Small world.” Paul says.

“No kidding.” I debate messaging Richard about it, and decide that would serve no purpose.

Once the wood has been unloaded at the house, we head back to my place to grab my spa stuff, and then head over to Kanga’s.

“I slept good last night.” Paul says, once we’re changed and sweating in the sauna.

“Me too. Hey, have you ever noticed we always sleep good on the same nights?”

“What, like we’re psychically linked?” He snorts. “Why can’t I hear all your dirty thoughts, then?”

I grin. “Maybe you didn’t pay for them.”

“Your dirty thoughts are pay per view? I guess that makes sense.” He turns and looks at me. “I’m trying to think of ways to make you blush.”

“Good luck with that.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Landon.” I say immediately. “There, see, I don’t care.”

He starts laughing, “Anything in particular?”

“He won’t say hi to me outside school, so he is struggling with finding me attractive.” I pause. “I just think it’s interesting, all the reasons why people chose not to cheat. There’s so many of them, it’s not cut and dry.” I think people forget that because I’m polyamorous, I find monogamy to be an alien concept. It’s not the default for me, so it’s interesting to me.

“Mental and sexual attraction really are different beasts in your mind, aren’t they?”

“Mhmm.” Did you know women are more likely to find a man attractive if he’s in a committed relationship? Some social mechanism that the man has obviously proved himself to be a provider if someone has locked him down. That doesn’t work for me. Despite my “devil may care” attitude, I don’t often sleep with people in relationships, even if they express interest. I usually get disillusioned with the idea that they’d break the trust of their partner. Even Josh, because I thought it was rude to whomever he was dating at the time, and I was annoyed at him for not dating me.

“Is that why you had your little episode on the operating tables? 200 beats a minute, or whatever.”

“It was not 200 beats and I didn’t even write that ’cause I didn’t glance at the monitor. It’s just my heart being stupid.” I poke around my Fitbit. “Or my Fitbit, my Fitbit randomly glitches and thinks I’m having a tachycardic episode.”

“Such as?”

I flip back through my days. “Oh, like Tuesday. It says my heart rate was 205 at 7:30 PM.”

“What were you doing then?”

I think back. “I was at trivia with Kevin.”

“Heart going pitter-patter?”

“Maybe.” I grin. “200 seems a little fast. I think it glitched.”

When we go to get dressed, I walk the long way around Paul to grab my towel. After I return to my spot, he says, “You could have asked me for that.”

I pause. “See, guys always say I’m too independent, but if I had asked my parents to pass that to me, I would have been told ‘you’re got two feet and a heartbeat’.”

“Ah, so it’s learned.”

I’m probably naturally independent to a degree, but yes.

Paul is wobbly when we leave the sauna. He hasn’t had anything to eat today, and he’s only had Redbull and coffee to drink. Not like a sauna dehydrates you or anything!

When I get home, I look at my Amazon cart. I need a couple of things to travel, but now I’m torn about ordering them because I don’t know where I will be from day to day. Maybe I should order them to my hotel room.

More frantic packing the next day. I ran out of bins. Paul was meant to drop some off for me, but he forgot. I text Kevin, “Dinner tonight? Also, I need to grab a couple of things.”

“Sure!”

Wash every article of clothing that may be even slightly dirty. Don’t want any contaminates going into storage. I spray down my luggage with an all-purpose vinegar based cleaner and try vacuuming it out, but it doesn’t look any cleaner and it smells like vinegar now. Maybe I should get some upholstery cleaner…

I get an email from Mandy that just contains an address. For the jobsite? Someone mentioned an Airbnb too. Google maps just shows me the OPP station in the middle of a residential area. Is the scaffold on the OPP station?

I go on to the train site to rebook my train. The next available date is January 5th. I guess that works.

I googled reviews about the train and finally learned that the “berth” option doesn’t have an electrical outlet. Which is not ideal, but doable… My phone lasts about 2 days without charging, depending on how I use it, and my laptop averages 8 hours. I shouldn’t be on either much; I should be enjoying the ride. And I can probably bat my eye lashes at someone in one of the other coaches to let me use their power source. It occurs to me I should have a small travel towel, for when I’m staying in places that don’t provide one.

Kevin picks me up around 5. We go to the grocery store – it occurred to me I’ll probably need breakfast shakes – and then Home Depot to grab another 2 bins. I’m not sure I need 2, but I figure better to have an extra.

We go to Kelsey’s for their Novemburger. The place is absolutely packed, but fortunately they have some seats for 2 and the waiter was doing his level best to keep up. The burger was pretty good, although undercooked, and if you know anything about mechanically separated meat you’d shudder too! We had a good chuckle because at the end of the meal, the waiter started to automatically offer me the bill, before remembering to ask.

As we head out to the car, I ask if we can stop by the bookstore. Paul keeps arguing with me not to buy paper books for travelling, but as the train shows, sometimes it’s good to have a non-electronic source of entertainment.

One of the books I wanted isn’t stocked at this store, but another is: The Gift of Fear, in the self-help section. We wander over and discover a witchcraft section. I try to think if I’ve seen a witchcraft section at another Indigo… none come to mind. Is that a Thunder Bay thing, or a generational thing? I get hopelessly lost in this section (but then, that’s the point of browsing a bookstore), picking random books of the shelf to flip through (most of them are crap) and find a good one. Practical Symbols, by Amy Donnelly. This should be helpful for my novel writing if nothing else.

“Should I buy two books?” I say forlornly to Kevin. “Paul says I have too many.”

“Of course! Paul is wrong!”

“Oh, yay!”

He finds a book he wants as well, some sci-fi series.

When I get home, Hanuman and Emily are flaked on the couch. I show him the books I bought and he’s very interested in the Symbols book.

“Wow! You got a good one!” He exclaims, flipping through it.

“Oh, thanks.” I say sheepishly.

The conversation goes off on a spiritual tangent while I start sidling towards my bedroom, because I’m tired.

“I mean, I have so many friends who are spirits, and a fair number of them I didn’t meet while they were alive.” He says, handing me back the book.

“I don’t even want to talk about it right now. I spend every Halloween being haunted by Luke.”

He twists on the couch to look up at me with shining eyes. “That’s so great, though, that he can come back to you every year.”

I cross my arms over my chest and look away. “I guess I should be grateful, but it’s hard to find under the sadness.” I don’t want vague dreams. I want Luke here, in the flesh.

“‘Should’ is such a mean word. Your feelings are valid.” He smiles sadly. “There’s a reason they picked you, you know.”

I nod mutely, overwhelmed, and retreat back to my room.

Kevin pointed out I could go to the Close of Nav party on Saturday. I got to buy tickets, but they’re closed! At his prodding, I email the guy and he says they closed early by mistake, and re-opens them.

See, usually I would have accepted them being closed at face value and not said anything. It’s a weird feeling, to ask for something.

Friday, what a gong show.

I have to go drop my hours off at the hall today. Ok, well I don’t have to, but I should.

I decide to head out around ten, but then I get an email from the job. They’ve booked us in for 2 weeks at a hotel, we’re only doing a partial tear down and then we are being sent away for a week or two so they can do some more work. They’re painting a water tower inside and out; I missed the obvious hoarding around the water tower during my Googling.

Oh, ok. That’s a little annoying, because that’s a week of pay I’m out, but it does give me some breathing room at least. I don’t need to frantically pack everything and give away what’s left.

Me and Nisha were in the middle of haggling over my PC monitors, so I have to back out and admit I’m keeping them now. She offers me a ride to the hall and I accept.

I wait outside for twenty minutes. Mr Flow comes home, and we chat for a bit. His brother’s house has balloon framing.

Then a beat-up blue truck crawls into the parking lot, one wheel almost flat on the ground.

“I… think… that’s my ride.”

I walk over. Yep, it’s Nisha, avec roommate Lily. I open the door for the rear seat. “Your tire is flat.”

“It’s fine, it’s been like this for a while.”

I have to fish the seatbelt out; it’s buried under the seat itself.

First things first, to the office to get my hours signed. While I’m there, Nisha pulls out the air compressor and re-inflates the tires. The tire is still being slowly inflated when I get back. It starts snowing; just a light snow that isn’t going to stay, but it makes me hiss. I’ve gone… more than 2 years without snow, because the winter that I left Barrie, it didn’t actually snow at all.

“I love driving.” She mentions.

“Oh, you do? Would you mind another pit stop, then?”

“Sure. Driving is how I get myself tired enough to sleep!”

We stop by the mailbox. No mail for me. On the drive to the hall, we get into a discussion about what a small community this is and how everyone knows each other, like Krish’s girlfriend knowing Janessa, or Paul knowing Richard’s dad.

“Park on the side.” I tell her, like I told Paul.

She gives me a weird look but complies. I hop out and run in. Julie is in a chatty mood and I bounce on my toes with impatience, forgetting I’m supposed to ask about my certificate. I remember when I run back out to the truck. Well, I can’t go back now, they’ve closed for lunch.

“So, why are we parking on the side?” She asks.

“The classrooms are at the front and I’m avoiding my teacher. Hey, I wonder if you know him, since you know everyone in Nipigon.”

“Maybe. What’s his name?”

“Landon. Tall. Spacers in his ears.”

“Hm…. skinny?”

“Yep.” I show her a picture of the band on Insta.

“Oh, he’s hot. Love the tatts. How do I make him my teacher?” Both of them start pretending to fan themselves.

Christ, I haven’t had this many people say someone is universally hot since I broke down and showed people pictures of the Vagabond (which caused even Hanuman to comment that he’s handsome, funnily enough). “You don’t want him as a teacher, trust me.”

“He does look familiar, but not off the top of my head.” She glances at Lily. “Kelly had a mysterious friend named Landon, didn’t she?”

This is getting too weird. I regret asking. “You know, if you love driving, the ambulance company is hiring. Good pay and benefits.”

“My license is… complicated, right now.”

Nevermind, I’m not asking anymore questions. At all.

I go home. I invite them inside, but the drive did the trick and they’re both yawning. I go inside and fire up the TV to dance for a bit, since I missed my long walk.

Paul texts me, “Want some juicy gossip?”

“Always.”

“Ask your new buddy Bjorn if he was known by this nickname.”

I send it to Bjorn between songs. Cue meltdown. How do you know this name, blah blah blah. Sounds like Paul knows Bjorn already? This is kinda fun, like revenge for him freaking me out the other week.

“I think you are correct.” I reply to Paul.

Of course, it goes the other way, amusingly. When Bjorn reaches maximum freakout and I decide to put him out of his misery, he says, “Paul? Doesn’t he live in Dryden?”

Paul hasn’t lived in Dryden for over a decade, and I’m not redacting his name in this instance. Bjorn literally knew who Paul was from first name alone.

See, this is why I don’t really try to hide who I am. When people start to get the feeling you’re hiding something, it’s almost automatic for them to want to know what it is.

Lee-Ann calls me about the Dolly Parton library thing. I’m interested in helping her, but I’m worried she’s showing the early signs of dementia. Or some other health problem.

I asked who was going to the farmer’s market Saturday morning as I need to return my empty jars and bottles. Kevin is going, so it’s a date!

He listens to these little radio plays in his car. They’re short, schlocky, and hilarious. I guess that’s the kind of stuff Alastor would produce, were he a real person. Fitting for two Alastor fans!

We did a loop around the market as well. We ran into the hyper man who hosted trivia for Nerd Nite. We also ran into one of the city councilors, whom Kevin is on a first name basis with.

“When you’re on city council, you’ll help me win mayor, right?” I ask him, once she leaves.

“Of course!”

Power couple, us.

“I’ve been reading the Guardian since you cleaned up at the other Nerd Nite.” Kevin confesses.

“As well you should! They have good reporting and no paywall.”

Once we were done, he asked if I had anywhere to be and I offered to do the loop around the craft shows with him.

The first stop was a nerdy show. There was a few people in cosplay, lots of 3D printed video game vendor trash. However, I did find one booth that made me stop and scream, “I have to get that for Paul!”

We also ran into the woman who plays Mz Molly (maybe), which prompted Kevin to correct me that them and Wiggins are not the same person, my mistake.

On to the next show!

We went to a few that were outside of town proper. Lots of knitted things, scented candles.

“I’m going to Fort Frances for work.” I say, glancing at the crafts. “I should find a craft I can bring with me on the road.”

“Scrimshaw?”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, whale fishermen would carve the whale’s teeth and bones…”

“I’m not a fisherman!” I exclaim. “I suppose a good carpenter should whittle.” Not that there will be much in the way of wood around a scaffolding site.

As we pulled up to the last show, at the fancy motel, Kevin says, “My mother used to be on the board for this one. The only craft show to have a board.”

“Oh, bougie. I have high expectations now.” I ask him some more questions about his mother and her work on the board.

Swanky, but more of the same. There were also a few woodworkers selling cheese blocks and cutting boards. Hmm… I know how to do that stuff now. Maybe I should get my hands on some fancy wood and start doing the craft show circuit again. If nothing else, I have a USP; I’m the only woman.

At one point, a woman lunges across one of the tables at me. “Where did you get that?”

I gesture to my dragon backpack. “This? I made it.”

“Really? Do you make them to sell?”

I couldn’t imagine making them to sell. It’s probably more than 50 bucks of leather, not to mention most of the needlework has to be done by hand. My machine can sew leather, but a fair bit of the work is the scales. I’d have to sell it for more than 400 bucks to make it make sense… although I suppose, to the right person, that’s fine.

She hands me her card, “If you decide to sell them, let me know, right away!“

It’s almost tempting, that level of enthusiasm. But I’m leaving!

We stopped at a booth selling some sort of salves. I was mildly interested – I do enjoy the smell of balsam, I’d always pester my parents to buy the more expensive balsam Christmas trees – but I’m trying to avoid buying anything because I have limited space. The woman manning the booth knows Kevin and they chat for a bit. At one point she turns to me and says, “He’s Thunder Bay famous, you know.”

Yes, yes I figured that out.

She offers to let us try a salve, but I decline because my sense of smell isn’t great. As we walk away, Kevin says, “Has your sense of smell always been dead, or did it change at some point?”

“Far as I know, it’s always been dead, but it’s hard to say. I don’t have memory of it working, but it’s not like I had a varied environment as a kid.” I have a really great sense of smell for the smells I do enjoy and recognize – like balsam – but I couldn’t tell you what lavender smells like (which is funny whenever someone tries to upsell me with “it’s scented lavender”).

Home again, home again.

Spend the afternoon relaxing. Next week is going to be stressful.

Jeremy shows up; my Halara order finally showed, plus, I needed my kettle back. He did not hang out.

Paul showed up so I could give him the pin. He was on his way to work, so he also didn’t hang out.

Close of Nav is at 7. I debate asking Kevin for a ride, but decide to take a Uride. What to wear?

I did a little fashion show in my new clothes. I was happy about all of it, except for one green shirt that sits differently than I imagined. Meh, I’ll just store it for later. The wine shirt was an especially good choice; fits me well, colour is flattering, and the cut is dressy while also showing skin.

I did have to tape up my boobs, because no bra I have would fit under it.

When I arrived at the hotel, I realized I had no idea where I was going. The ticket says “Ballroom one” but there’s a lot of ways to go inside the Delta, and the front desk was busy. I decided to just hangout inside the entrance on my phone, until Kevin or Chris showed up.

Chris and Susan showed up first, because Kevin was already inside! We went and sat down with him, and the rest of the crew slowly filtered in. We got one drink ticket each, so I got a glass of white wine because I can’t be bothered.

I was feeling a bit nervous about Marissa being there, but she was perfectly friendly and even told me I should text instead of Whatsapping her. We stood around chatting until the hors d’oeuvres were served, at which point I caused a stampede when I got in line.

After hors d’oeuvres, the awards were handed out! Kevin had to accept the plaque for Rumba, as none of the rest of the crew were present. He asked me to take a picture for him, but then he grabbed the plaque and ran off the stage like he was being chased by wolves, so I grabbed a photo of him later.

The skipper for Gong Show, who is also the owner of On Deck, had shown up drunk, and his crew piled on the stage to accept in a hot mess. One women showed up in a skirt made from a destroyed spinnaker, which everyone kept joking was the most expensive dress in the room but that’s not true… the spinnaker was destroyed, meaning it was worthless!

There was a few unnecessarily long speeches that sent me back to the hors d’oeuvre table, hunting for leftovers (no luck). Finally they were done and pizza was served, the lights turned down for dancing.

Chris and Doug head out early. Michelle gets sucked into a conversation about mountains she’s climbed. I get dragged away to a few conversations because something something carpenter, which are usually conversations I try to escape from as soon as possible because they’re always men who are baffled by the notion. Amy also grabs me aside and tells me I look like I’m from “corporate”.

I found an unclaimed drink ticket on one of the tables, so I take it up to the bar and get a second glass of free wine.

People start getting really drunk and stupid now. Casey tackles one of his crewmates – I think – and they have to be separated, but no one tosses him out, curiously. Kevin disappears onto the dance floor.

Devin’s mom starts poking at him. I laugh, “She telling you it’s time to go home?”

“No, she’s telling me to go dance.”

I’m in a dangerous mood. Casey’s set the bar for drunken shenanigans basically on the floor, so I can be a little more silly than I would usually. I grab Devin’s hand and drag him to the floor and teach him a basic two-step.

“F*cking move your hips, you’re not a virgin!”

“What? Who told you that?” He sputters indignantly.

You did, just now! Tehe.

Kevin slowly works his way over to us. Then Rasputin by Boney M comes on. I lean over, “Has anyone ever told you you look like Rasputin?”

He laughs a deep belly laugh. That wasn’t a novel thought; it’s occurred to me before, but it seemed like a weird thing to mention without context.

It’s probably the beard.

The song is a crowd favourite and a bunch more people pour into the dance floor. A circle forms as Andrei hops into the middle and starts doing the Hopak.

Around 11, we decide to call it.

The night is not over, though! Turns out Kevin spent the afternoon sampling cocktails at a ritzy bar called “Barkeep”, which both him and Jeremy love but no one has taken me to. So to Barkeep we go!

The place is hopping, tucked in a side street off Red River, easy to miss. It’s a small hipster place, but I have to admit, the menu is pretty sweet. It’s hopping, but we managed to find 2 seats. I text Jeremy in case he feels like coming out and being social.

I tried the Pomme Pomme and the Windy Apple. In some appley mood. I preferred Pomme Pomme. Jeremy shows up and order something.

I’m a wee bit buzzed. We head out around 1 and Kevin drops me off at home.

I’ve got a long road tomorrow.