The internet needs a breathalizer.

If you're in the mood, please take my place this evening. I'm exhausted. Thank you and goodnight. Enjoy the party. It's on your behalf. Or your bewhole. Something of the sort. Caleb's throwing it. Doesn't he always? He networks more than Telus and knows more people than Jesus. I would totally worry about that except for the fact that I already have proof that he is Satan and he already took my soul.

Rambling. Don't want to go, would much rather sleep. But that would be ungracious of my bewhole.

Haha.

Drinking, yes. Sorry. No other way to find courage for this one.

Home at last.

Yesterday we took the first chance we had to really escape from the city and explore up into the mountains a little. We drove to Whistler, which was so delightful, in spite of the bad storm that seemed to be happening in a bubble around us. To us it didn't seem all that bad, actually but I think we stayed ahead of it somehow.

Last time I drove the sea to sky highway was 1993. It's grown up so much, mostly in part I believe due to the Olympics. However, I'm not bitter, it was nice to have a mostly divided road and lots of places to stop along the way. We saw waterfalls and wildlife and North Face everything, everywhere. What used to be remote is now a tourist mecca and Whistler was awash in dollar bills. Lots of dollar bills.

And it snowed heavily the entire time we were up there. To the point where I turned to Ben and told him I was sure I said I was done with snow now, thank you, may we please go back to the city?

He thought I was joking and we did not go back until it began to get dark and by then I think our explorer urges were sated for one day anyway. Off to drink wine (me) and sit in dimly-lit restaurants eating yummy dinner and oh, wait.

That place.

I fell in love with it to a wicked extent. Like more than that other neighborhood and it seems vaguely more doable. Okay, it's completely doable. I'm not even sure I'm calling it by the right name, I just know that I pointed from the road and Ben nodded and Caleb called someone and really that's pretty much the way I operate when the boys are around. Bridget chooses, Ben confirms and Satan chips off a piece of the princess-soul and smiles his lies and things happen.

There are some islands and some beautiful glass houses chipped into the front of the mountain and it's all ocean and salt and beauty and yeah, it didn't take any sort of wonderment or questioning on my part. I know exactly what I want when I see it and so this part was almost too easy. Like things are when you have no soul left maybe, or because we've been fortunate in so many ways while being so goddamned unlucky in others.

Doesn't matter. The view is going to wrap around what's left of my soul and then I won't notice the huge pieces that are gone, that won't grow back, that can't be replaced.

I would have given the rest for this. I still might.

Delicious dark mornings.

There is rain pouring down the window beside me and it's so dark out this morning. I am currently waiting for Ben to wake up so we can drive up north into the rain and spend time together and maybe nail down which neighborhood we plan to terrorize for the rest of our quiet dark lives.

I noticed on my visitor information that someone searched for REAL FRENCH PRINCESS IN GLASS CASE THATS DEAD late last night while I slept, and was directed to my journal.

Welcome, Missouri. I like you already. But I'm actually not French, if that's something that's going to stand between us.

More tonight, my chickens. Adventure first, words later.

Dragon breath.

I have my car!!!!

Yay!

Ben took us for a long drive all around the water. The ocean at night here is just as glorious as back home. Then we stopped for donairs (west coast donairs made Halifax style, no less) and came home because it's late. And it's been a long week. I'm happy that the car is here. I mean, having a driver is fun and all but it's not the same. I can make a mess in my car. You really think I can wait until we get home to sneak a few bites?

You've obviously never had a donair the way I like them: extra meat, sweet sauce, tomato and raw onions only.

My next plan is to kiss everyone in sight. Thank God I'm cute.

Muscles, metal and beards.

It's Clash day, dear readers, and lord knows, Bridget loves her knight movies. Muck, muscle, bring it, I'm there. It's my happy place.

Okay, it's one of many, but one of the few socially acceptable formats of escape.

I have more, I'm tired though so later. The laptop must be shared these days with a little blonde boy who likes to play warcraft. Who is going to say no to HIM?

Not I, said the spider to the fly.

Off purpose.

And I see them in the streets
And I see them in the field
And I hear them shouting under my feet
And I know it's got to be real
Oh, Lord, deliver me
All the wrong I've done
You can deliver me, Lord
I only wanted to have some fun.

I'm tired now. Busy day. Busy week. What can you do? That is life in the middle of a big move, one that is going rather smoothly with only a handful of hiccups along the way. I still have faith that everything will get ironed out and fall into place one way or another because that is life.

No more champagne. I think I'll switch back to white wine and whiskey for obvious reasons, some that I pour myself for even more obvious reasons because seriously, who trusts Satan? This morning I found my shoes in PJ's jacket pockets and my diamond ring in Ben's shirt pocket and I am still looking for my dignity somewhere but apparently it's on a train, coming to meet me along with my car, which is taking forever and every now and then someone walks into my head and powers up a klieg light which exposes all the worn spots and all the holes and then they shut it down and walk out again and I'm left in the dark with just enough memory to mark and repair all the damned holes and then we do it all over again.

Which is ridiculous but also a necessity, unlike stupid high heels or champagne.

Though if you ask my brother-in-law, champagne is definitely a necessity, as are princesses who run on nerves and little sleep and try to conduct their evenings as if they have oodles of both.

And Ben thinks I am funny.

Nice.

I would be but I am too busy trying to be responsible and so I jumped the gun and it went off and I've been slapped back, mindful of the pace at which this plays out.

Slow. Find me the button and I will crank the fast forward. Show me the door and I may laugh and tell you I wasn't having much fun anyway, pass me another glass and be prepared because I'm going to hand you my shoes, and then four hours later I will wake up and piece it all back together and then head out for meetings and write down every single word because otherwise if I just load them in they fall out of those holes that the light shines through, don't you see? So I write them down. All of them, and it works very well. I am messily organized and mayhemish beauty and uncharted territory and seriously flawed.

Thank God you love me anyway, because sometimes it seems like there is oh so very little to love.

Ben made all the introductions anyway.

Ben is sleeping.

I am not surprised. I think I wore him out today. We started the day with a sleepy early-morning still-dark epic lovemaking session and ended it at the Coach store downtown, where I bought the Maggie bag I've been coveting for months and was promised earlier this year.

(And a matching wallet, because you have to have a matching wallet.)

I won't even tell you how great it felt to breeze into the store and set up an account and know that none of the pretty things I buy here will ever need to be waterproofed or covered for the snow. Or left to someone else because there was no point, it would become ruined by the cold and the dust anyway. The bag came with a dust cover. I don't think I'll need it. There is no dust.

Oh, I will shop this week, and I will enjoy it.

In other news, I properly introduced myself to the Pacific this morning. We've met in passing several times before, but she had no need to truly remember my face until now. There are palm trees on the beach here. And that's just the beach downtown. We haven't even made it out to the proper ones yet.

We will.

Ben found the first piece of Pacific sea glass as well. I have a huge jar of beach glass in a box somewhere, taped and wrapped in many layers of paper. It's all from the Atlantic, so I suppose I will need another jar for this ocean. I took a deep breath and it didn't hurt to do so and I didn't clench right back up. I stuck my hands in the cold filthy water and I said hello right out loud and I didn't really care who heard.

I said Hello, nice to meet you, and you'll be seeing a lot of me, I hope your sister told you.

I couldn't hear what she said back. The wind, my ears...well, you know how it goes.

We did some poking around and exploring and a lot more walking today just to see things. You don't see things when you drive, and my little car hasn't made it out yet. Against Caleb's perfect suggestions of selling it and buying a new one I shipped it on the train like everyone else does and I've had nothing but regret ever since because it takes forever but again, I don't see things when we drive, I just listen to music and zone out someone far away.

This way I must focus.

Tomorrow I really need to take the children shopping. We're going to try again, because critical mass is being reached on a daily basis and the clothing I packed for each of us is so woefully inadequate all I can do is laugh. Especially for me. It took the bright light of the coast to see the condition my clothing was in because I wasn't paying attention before and now suddenly again I have time to focus on all kinds of things.

It isn't all marble foyers and butlers though, don't be deceived. Caleb pushes things on me and I will pick and choose instead. I can carry my own garbage bag down to the parkade (but gross so Ben has done it so far) and I can figure out the bus routes and walk the puppy in the pouring rain and I can stay up all night watching the city lights and trying to guess where we should live. It's a leap like any other and I wish I had more time to decide. I could take it but it will be difficult either way and I'm pretty sure I won't be exchanging those holey long-sleeved t-shirts for the tiara and the ballgown in any permanent sense. Not yet.

Probably not ever.

Because come on. You know me better than that by now. Give me a champagne flute and odds are I will fill it with chocolate milk.

Rolling with it.

You turn me on
you lift me up
And like the sweetest cup
I'd share with you
You lift me up,
don't you ever stop
I'm here with you

Now it's all or nothing
Because you say you'll follow through
You follow me and I follow you

When I leaned way out over the railing to peek at the starfish, Jacob's head came into the picture and he kissed my cheek and my reflection bumped into a ripple and disappeared.

You like it, princess. It was a statement, not a question. I nodded and watched his words dissolve against the wooden pilings. I let go of the railing and stood on the dock facing him and there was empty space but it was space I knew as filled because he is this big invisible shadow that walks behind me always, keeping my hair out of my lipgloss and keeping Ben focused on this heart of mine that he carries in the little sterling cage, still shattered into bits and pieces. Jacob watches that, you know. He is my guard.

Ben asked me what I was thinking and I just gave him that half-bitter smile that means I don't actually have an answer. He asks me to make decisions and plans and I still can't seem to here because it's nice to be led again. It's nice to not think. It's nice to load the dishwasher and then walk for a while and breathe in salt and rain and trees and relief, sweet epic relief that I remain surprised by.

I need to sleep tonight. The strange part about this place is that it's never dark and the rain drips a steady beat against the windows and it's loud. So loud I can hear it and it wakes me up and so in two nights in my new city I haven't actually slept yet. It will come. When it comes it will be so sweet. Maybe tonight. Maybe eventually I will come down. Easter means new. Maybe then.

I am plotting a long walk by the ocean for the puppy and a dinner of dumplings and authentic Chinese instead of Prairie-Chinese and maybe some fun this weekend. Maybe planning a date. Maybe planning a little more shopping, but for all of us, not just me because one of the downsides of efficiency is instant boredom with the outfit choices and the inadequacy of all of our things for this beautiful place. Patches and almost-holes have no place in this life.

I can fix it in time. Like everything else.

Henry had his meltdown today. I decided to take the children shopping. We all need things and I figured I could polish off a good list after lunch but instead he just unglued himself in the middle of not one but three different stores and eventually it reached the point where I just put the things down that I had collected to purchase and we left the store to walk outside in the sun and listen to road musicians hawk their tunes for spare change. We made our way back to our sky-house and we sacked out with cookies and juice and video games because it is so incredibly rare that Henry voices any complaints at all that I wasn't about to choose that particular moment to instruct. No way no how. Ruth is slightly older and knows a little better and she lit into Henry for making my day tougher but really there isn't anything we need that cannot wait another day, week or month and some moments I really wish someone would just tell me that it's okay, flake out and we'll deal with the hard parts another time.

The difference is then they loom over you, they shadow you and you don't forget they are present, just like I don't forget about the big Jacob-space that stands behind me with his beautiful white blonde hair and gigantic teeth smiling all the time. Light in person-form. The remainder of my sanity locked into a man that isn't here but he isn't dead because I will not allow it so everyone tiptoes around the harder, rougher patches of Bridget until they reach the smooth, soft parts they much prefer.

Ben is happy. More content than I have seen him in a long time. Maybe almost even at a point where he also yearns to do a little more and can't. Build something, play something. Tinker and change and improve and enjoy. It's inevitable that we would quickly outgrow these walls even though they are glass. Even though Coach and Louis Vuitton are down the street, and even though with the kind of luck I carry and the mindset I end up in every damn time, this dishwasher will be the first and last one I ever see because I seem to be hellbent on making life harder for myself in spite of incredibly obnoxious verbal efforts to ensure that everyone around me is aware that I Intend To Be Spoiled.

Right.

My hand doesn't contain those cards and neither does the deck. I hold no illusions and I have no faith. What I do know is that we will work doggedly to make a good life here because it's a good place. Because it's mild and I am warm and my fingertips are healing nicely now and my hair, oh Jesus you should see it, it's so curly from the damp air and I can live without shoes or socks just like you know who likes to and I can give up my non-faith to him and maybe he can look after it and maybe Sam can file and lock away those memories from that place and just maybe I will be surprised once again, like I always am.

The older I get the more I come to realize that I can't control a damned thing. And I'm no longer sure I want to anyways.

Never. gets. old.

Yes, I made the dishwasher go again! Because firstly we were out of dishes after dinner and secondly because the magic box that it is makes things CLEAN while I get to go shopping and drink coffee.

Uh huh.

Awesome.

(P.S. I am having a hell of a fun time milking the whole My Fair Lady angle, mostly because it pisses off Caleb to no end.)

Doolittle redux.

Seriously? The dishwasher took over an hour and it even dried the dishes but I can't touch them because they're weirdly hot.

Huh.

Next up? Graceful navigation with two small kids, two umbrellas, one tiny wet white puppy and the pouring rain. I won't even bother sharing, just know that we were entertainment for the masses.

No wonder Caleb is so embarrassed by me sometimes. Really I can sit up and look pretty but I'm thinking that about now that seems to be the scope of my talents.

Sitting up, I said.

Snort.