Welcome Home, Trevor! or How the Flu Cycle Hit Home

My morning seminar at the University was unexpectedly canceled after my professor's husband called in with news of the flu. Already up and out, I almost immediately started having coffee with Ted, quickly joined by Trevor, who was on his way back to Calgary. Only with the poor driving conditions, we convinced him to stay in town, a notion soon psychically affirmed by his mother.

Moving back to Edmonton after another stint in Calgary, Trevor Anderson has fiercely and consciously embraced this city as his home. This is the place to work! To live! and so, as his very own personal assistant for the day, I stuck with Trevor through a very thorough day of setting up his new life version 5.7.

Between iphone communications, multiple meals, and an Orange Julius break at West Edmonton Mall, we productively and efficiently set up shop with the basic home needs (toilet paper, soap, condoms, etc), dropped off dry cleaning, bought enough socks and gonch to last the week, took a photo with zach efron, found and moved in a beautiful country style german work table along with a red wooden chair from austin, and we did this all before 6 p.m.

Being in Grandin again, where so many of my own memories linger, we walked from his place to Martini's, a trek beneath the trees where it was discovered there are no garbage cans on the east side of the street. It's a trek that recalls various faces, through various times, seasons, and days, and it was good to add to that bank an old new friend.

The day turned into night, a night of beers and cigarettes, a night that had to continue on without me as my cough slid into a full blown flu, but others joined the table that the german table reminded me of, including Ted who left the two of us together some 9 hours earlier. Seeing Ted again, both Trevor and I recognized and verbalized the scope of time, and space, that had spanned since we last saw Ted. A full day missed of assignment that I wouldn't of remembered a week from now, replaced instead with conversations and impressions that will inevitably form my life's work here--and really nowhere else.