A few weeks ago, I was driving in my car and a recent unfortunate experience popped into my head. The experience was a small one, like minuscule small, so insignificant that if I tried to explain it here, I would feel embarrassed and ridiculous. But that’s the thing, I’ve probably thought of this experience no less then 2 - 3 times a day since it happened. The reality is that the other people that were present when this happened have probably thought about it zero times a day. It’s a secret shame, one that makes no sense to anyone but me, something that if I attempted to explain to my closest friend, he would probably be confused by my inadequacy of not being able to get past these kinds of things.

But then after that moment in the car, another thought popped into my head and that thought was: It doesn’t matter. And that third thought was: yes, that statement is true. And I thought about all the things and the people and the situations that don’t matter. Maybe some of these things that don’t matter to me are important to you, and I mean no disrespect, but that doesn’t matter either.

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A couple of weeks ago, I went out on a snowy and brisk afternoon to partake in the tradition of Sunday brunch with a great friend. We settled on an Irish pub down the street from me. It's a big place and we like to sit around for a couple of hours after filling our gullets, sipping on coffee refills and talking about life stuff. Three things that simply cannot be accomplished at places where the servers - understandably - want you to leave, to be replaced by other brunch-illiterati.

During about our fifth refill of coffee, we noticed the pub was getting unusually busy for such a snowy afternoon. Then someone took to the small makeshift stage where local Irish folk singers entertained the weekday customers. "Thank you for coming this afternoon," the man said. "I'm sure Cindy would have been so happy to see all of you here."

My friend and I looked at each other. We were at a wake.

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The world kind of sucks right now. This is an understatement, I know. On November 9th, I shut most things off. There was just too much noise going on and to be honest, I’m wondering what to even believe anymore. Prior to November 9th, I certainly did not think that a porn star getting barred from Twitter because of a Nazi salute would be something trending on social media. Perhaps I’m still in my bubble, but I thought we could somehow find common ground in agreeing that this kind of behaviour is not acceptable. This is the world we live in now.

When I said that I shut most things off, I don’t regard this as retreating. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what artists do in times like these. I think they do what Brandon Victor Dixon on stage after a performance of Hamilton.

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If you've been wondering and can't tell from some of these blog postings, I'm single and have been single for far too long. At a Stories We Don't Tell event in the summer that I hosted, the general theme revolved around jokes about how lonely I've become. There's no use sitting around moping, you might as well laugh at our sadness, right? Um...right?

I've had that bug lately. That feeling when I went out to a social engagement and think, Maybe I'll meet THE person of my dreams tonight. And I get all excited and slowly as the night progressed, the excitement turned into dread as I realized once again that she was not here. I understand this creates an aura of desperation around me and I am okay with that.

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