I moved into my new place yesterday. I'd applied for it about a week ago and the landlord had originally offered it to someone else first. I was on the beach with my roomate Steve on Thursday and I met a guy named Mathias whose doing post-doctorate research in philosophy and a total hippy. After making small talk for a few minutes he told me that I belonged on Commercial Drive. 30 minutes later while watching the sun set over the Pacific, Steve recieves a phone call while sitting beside me and 10 minutes after that we had a new home 10 meters in from the drive. Funny how life works like that.

I quite like my new home. It's a two bedroom suite in the semi-basement of a lawyer's home. The lawyer's name is Zool, born in East Africa, divorced and trying to make the best of what he has. I see a great void in him. I think he is very depressed and the reason I think so is because he's always trying to appear really cheerful and happy. I've met 3 people like him before, wierdly all through my ex-boyfriend, and all three of them were clinically depressed. I think there's a reason I'm renting a place from him. I think we have lessons to teach each other. I hope by the end of my tenancy here that we'll be good friends.

But ugh, my mom just called me to help her with a form that's due tomorrow and it's too wierd trying to help her in this internet cafe/convienience store. Plus my writing rhythm has been broken. I'll post more later.

Funny how life happens...