Up Too Late: An Endless Search for Mr.Right & Other Important Things in Life

I've been on a conference call for the last two hours because I couldn't leave St.John's on Friday: We had a blizzard that caused all the flights to get canceled.

I've muted my phone and I'm browsing GQ's Style Slideshow...My attention span is long gone..Five minutes ago, I voted against a resolution that I spoke for 15 minutes earlier.

The only thing that is getting my attention from time to time is the people's fights to change a word, something I did before I forgot I was on a conference call...

Labels: GQ, St.John's

I'm in my honours study room, where I am supposedly doing research for my essay...

Instead, I am looking up music online, writing two or three new words every 15 minutes, looking at the blank board in front of me, the empty shelves I've started to fill with books since I got the room last week.

My mind is wandering distances away, to Kosova. I wish I didn't feel so homesick, especially since this is home, and I need not be convinced, I insist, I feel at home in Canada... yet there is always a sort of pain that hits me when I am alone, with too much time on my hands...

I am wearing a t-shirt of Pierre Trudeau, a memento of times gone by, a man who believed in equality...

I wish I could go back to Kosova and realize that life, however imperfect it may be, is perfect in its own little way...Instead, here i am, feeling miserable about not being neither here nor there...

In these moments of self-initiated misery, questions about my future challenging my sense of the present, I am listening to Rona Nishliu, a young musician from Mitrovica, my hometown...

Her song Shko pastro pas saj (Go clean up after her) may not be lyrically relevant, but her voice and tone of music are making me want to curl up, cry my heart out and continue this painful assignment on the evolution of the French language in New France....

Labels: albanian, favourite music, Kosova, Kosovo, sad, St.John's

I was out on a date last night with a guy whom I'd briefly spoken with long, long time ago...

I couldn't believe last night, that I was sitting in a coffee shop with someone who could only remember meeting me by the word "ethnic cleansing" ("you're from that country, with ethnic cleansing stuff, right?")

I ordered hot chocolate, he ordered Canadian [beer]. Soon after, the waitress came back, expecting us to order food, but I opted for a fruit salad instead...Poor Jamie B. from NB ordered a bowl of brownies and ice cream, only because I'd done it.
Coming back from this failure of a date, I became convinced once again that I am single because I am picky - penso, igitur solus sum.

In other news [exceprt from an e-mail to a close friend]:

I'm in the middle of preparing an outline that will contain the summary of my 40-plus page-essay in one single page...I'm not good in summarizing, so this is proving to be a chalenge,....

I gave up 2/3 of my hours at the ANC, so i'm hoping that will help me concentrate more on class, though there are so many things that are keeping my mind away from classwork...

My brother called twice today...He usually does this to politely check if there is a way for one of us to help him by sending him some sort of a remittance. ...As time passes, I only worry more that his arrival in Canada won't happen and that somewhere down the road, someone will change his/her mind about it all and cancel my brother's application...thoughts are roaming in my mind and I know that they shouldn't, but somehow, i can't censor them...Kadare would have laughed and felt wonderful about just having gotten enough material to write a new novel.

I feel like a dying giant who, with the grasp of his final bits of energy, is trying to stand up...I don't know why that analogy is appealing to me, but somehow, I do feel like i've fallen down and am having difficulty standing up...it must be Kadare! I should blame Kadare for everything wrong. :) Hoxha did/some Albanians today do.

I received a call a couple of weeks ago from a man who just moved here from Kingston. He came here from Prishtina in 1999 with his family, did his Master's in Engineering after proving to the university that he had worked in the power facility in Obilic until late 1998. He is now working on the Harbour clean-up project...I have yet to go out and chat with him, but he sounds lonely on the phone. His family is in Kingston, apparently, waiting for summer before they can move here. He, in the meantime, is looking for a used car to buy...I didn't really know where to send him for that....He asked about the other Kosovar family in town...I told him I'd check with them.

A good friend's father passed away Monday...it must be the sadness that his death brought that has affected me. I've been thinking what I'll do if my father dies, and I'm not there during his last minutes...It is sad to know that he will die without us having a chance to talk about the past...any effort of the sort would end in complete failure...It's also sad and slightly ironic that I'm wanting to study diplomacy when I couldn't resolve conflict between my father and the rest of my family...I may be being harsh, but it is something that is and has been part of me for so long.

Labels: date, Friday, Kosova, Kosovo, men, men problems, problems, sad