May 31, 2013

May 27

I keep falling in love with very young men. It’s a sickness, an addiction (like sex used to be for me). And what a great addiction it is. These young men are kind, darling geniuses. The ones who aren’t geniuses are almost unbelievably good looking (like “Angel”). The others (the darling geniuses) are sexy and warm-hearted lovers (well, not MY lovers).

I don’t have sex with any of these very young men. It’s not the age difference; I don’t give a rat’s ass about that. (Of course, age may be the deal-buster for many of them.)

Unfortunately, sex complicates and sabotages my relationships. It brings up negative feelings (like jealousy). One-night stands with perfect (!) strangers are fine, but good relationships and sex are, so far, a tricky mix. However, I am not giving up.

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My latest sweet genius is Greg from Poland!! Very sexy AND very good-hearted—such a rare combination. He took me to a burlesque show last night here in Vancouver. It was lots of fun. Greg also bought me dinner and beer beforehand at a restaurant where, along with his Turkish pal, “Yapa,” we met up with a couple of French Couchsurfing gals. Greg also paid my way into the show and  bought me a couple of drinks there. Very few hosts have done such nice things for me.

Greg’s a kind, hockey-playing, gentle giant (he’s tall!). Greg  is the Year of the Sheep, Day of the Rabbit: a peace-loving artist. Rabbit people hate confrontation so they get what they want in covert ways. Sheep are the sensitive artists of the Chinese zodiac.

I asked Greg to be my adopted nephew.  I barely know him so I don’t know if this will last. Chuck is my other adopted nephew, but I’m not in love with him.  Chuck (Hillman) is a good friend.

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Lots of my male pals are gay. Gay men often make really good friends. Couchsurfers Daddy Jose and my “brothers” (Hector, Roger and Francisco) are my Venezuelan adopted family; they live on Lake Maracaibo. I love those guys.

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May 29

4:30 am: our Greyhound arrived here in Dawson Creek, British Columbia, Canada. A heavy fog accompanied us en route here. I slept for a few hours (minutes?? ha ha). Hard to tell on the bus; time becomes distorted and spaces keep moving by, relentlessly and magnificently.

At Tim Horton’s (cafes, open 24-hours, internet, all over Canada–or at least here in Western Canada): tea, everything bagel with cream cheese.

True love has to be from the inside out. It originates in the Soul. It seeps out, effortlessly, into the material world. I have a Go Go Go Go attitude so I love the bus.

Gogol Bordello (Gypsy band) sings of “purification fire.” I think this is a spiritual metaphor. Evolution comes from the inside out, like love. The purifying force of love and life help us evolve. “Revolution is internal” say Gogol Bordello (Russian guys singing in New York).

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Oh, Canada. Big birds, cattle, horses, deer, mountains, trees, lakes, rivers, an eagle, lots of raccoons (in a Vancouver park). No cell service for hours coming through the mountains heading north out of Vancouver.

Thank god I am once again in a country where women can do whatever the hell they want. Bus drivers (nice one on Greyhound) or anything!

Vancouver Sun (newspaper) headline yesterday: South British Columbia grizzly bears in danger of extinction. One new female named “Power” is the big hope for the future of those animals.

Austin was marvelous to stay with in Vancouver. He’s very touchy-feely, and, boy, did touch-starved me take advantage of that. OK, I didn’t give him a blow job (ha ha), but at the Amsterdam Cafe I hugged and touched him for security and comfort whenever I wanted to while we ate and smoked pot with other stoners. Can’t do that (lots of touching) with too many people outside the Latin countries. I think lots of people–like me–would just adore more touching, but we are afraid. Not the wonderful Austin! A gem.

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I want a Stay-At-Home-Man. Someone who loves to be settled in and not to travel (or perhaps he just loves a little travel). Or maybe he is a Traveller, too, but we would travel separately; we could meet up at various places on the road.

I will travel and let THE MAN know where I am.If he’s sedentary, we will reunite whenever I come off the road. When I’m gone, we are both free to do WHATEVER we want with WHOMEVER we want. And (a change in my attitude), we don’t have to tell each other anything about what we’ve done when we were apart. It’s being free while having that Touchstone (as I am coming to call Him). I miss someone.

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touchstone (plural touchstones)

  1. A stone used to test the quality of gold alloys.
  2. A standard of comparison or evaluation.

~~Wikipedia

touch·stone

/ˈtəCHˌstōn/
Noun
  1. A piece of fine-grained dark schist or jasper formerly used for testing alloys of gold by observing the color of the mark that they made…
  2. A standard or criterion by which something is judged or recognized.
Synonyms
criterion – test

~~Google

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This afternoon I arrived in Fort Nelson, a B.C. town near the British Columbia/Yukon border. I was welcomed into the Father Poullet Hostel, a homeless shelter, by Gordon (from the Philippines). The shelter is a neat, clean little house, and I have my own room with a TV and my own bathroom (or “washroom,” as they call it here). Clean towels, too. And Gordon gave me a $13 meal ticket for Subway, across the highway from the bus station. Only one other guest is staying at the hostel now.

The country up here on the B.C./Yukon border is ALL TREES. It’s like being in Tree Wonderland. I love it.

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I have realized that we “disabled” (differently-abled) people have a different walk and presentation style. I have seen this all my life, but I never picked up on it. It’s more about letting your stomach hang out (if it is like that) and not getting into fashion or looking “cool.” I am beginning to be able to do it; I say “beginning” because this style is so “uncool” to Neurotypicals (and I tried to be an NT for so long) that it’s quite a brazen, daring statement for me to make.

I posted this on Facebook today (before giving away one jacket to Gordon at the shelter):

Bright and chilly at 4:30 am here in Dawson Creek, British Columbia, Canada. I am getting to love Canadians: repressed? Yes. But also quiet, respectful, polite, orderly, law-abiding, and that’s only those people (mostly Caucasians) whom I’ve observed. Other populations (First Nations) are heavily represented up here. Locals, glad for spring, are sporting T-shirts and shorts. I have on two jackets, a flannel shirt, two other shirts, jeans, long johns, a wool cap and a scarf. Ha ha.

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May 30

Fort Nelson and the Rocky Mountain Regional area around it:

Wildlife found in the area include animals such as moose, black bear, grizzly bear, caribou, deer (White-Tail and Mule), elk, bison, stone sheep, mountain goat, wolves, and several more. The region, especially the area around the Liard Hot Springs, is home to several unique bird species such as the Golden Eagle, the Bald Eagle, and the Great Horned Owl.

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I opened a Scotia Bank account today, and it was notable because the people who helped me were so patient and relaxed. Shaun (from Botswana) talked to me for fifteen minutes (or more) after we had finished our transactions. Just talk about this and that. Amazing. That would never happen in the US where it’s just in-and-out as quickly as possible to facilitate more business (and money).

Yesterday in a small IDA store, I asked for directions to the library here in Fort Nelson. Three teenagers gave me very complete directions with one gal even pretending to walk to the library, showing me where to turn, and being very specific about the crosswalk locations. Apparently, people in this little town with light traffic and wide, mostly empty streets do not jaywalk.

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May 31

Gordon gave me another Subway meal coupon when I left the shelter this morning. It was also for $13, enough to get a good breakfast and lunch.

Here is my message today to Seth and Anya (Meg’s still mad at me for turning her in for child abuse):

I arrived here in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, Canada at 4 am this morning. Light out. Cold.
I went right to Tim Horton‘s, Canada’s ubiquitous, open-24/7 restaurant (with free WiFi). Two of my bus companions (from Germany and Austria) are at a nearby table and another guy (Canadian [he shared a joint with me en route]) is sleeping on the floor beside me. I love the little fraternity (sorority!) of riders that  develops during a long-distance bus ride.
We saw about a dozen bears (brown, black, and grizzly), 100 or so scattered bison (including rollicking cubs), four wild mountain sheep, one moose, a porcupine, two wild swans, and a deer alongside the road on the over night trip here from Fort Nelson. Our bus driver stopped many times so we could see the animals “up close” (from inside the bus) and take photos. Wonderful!

So far, this is north country is my favorite place on earth. Upper B.C. and the Yukon is ALL trees, big wild animals, lakes, rivers and rocks.

Joyful Love to  you, My Children!

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The difference between bison and buffalo is nothing or a whole lot depending on what you mean. Let us explain: The animal that we’ve come to know and love in this country as the buffalo is the same as the bison. People refer to them as both names. And that’s OK. There are 2 subspecies of bison in North America: the Plains Bison (mainly in the U.S. and Canada) and the Wood Bison (mainly in Canada.) There is also a European Bison called the Wisent (pronounced wee’sent). All 3 look a little bit different from each other. The scientific name of the bison is “Bison bison” (Genus species). However, the bison is not a “true” buffalo scientifically speaking. There are at least 2 true buffalo which include the African Cape Buffalo and the Asian Water Buffalo.

~~from northforkbison.com

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The Traveller’s best friend? A big, friendly, sincere smile.

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