A Very Long Distance Relationship

Yes, it's true. The commitment-phobe who has spent nearly a decade avoiding calling anyone her boyfriend is now completely happily in a relationship. With a Scotsman. Who lives in Scotland.

Not only have I avoided relationships since my divorce, I've made it very clear that I don't do long distance. All talking and no sex? What's the point of that? I remember a few years back when a friend was going on and on about his long distance girlfriend, who he'd met over the internet machine. "It's true love," he said, "She's moving here so we can be together." I laughed. I told him that was utter insanity, an adolescent fantasy, nothing that could ever possibly work out.

But here I am, ready to move halfway around the world after only a few months. Because, as Harry says in When Harry Met Sally, "When you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

How did it happen? Twitter, Aberdeen football, a mutual friend called Calum... just a lot of tiny decisions in both our lives that brought Jody and I together. He believes in The One, all things happening for a reason, and that we just had to find each other. I think everyone gets one great love of their life -- be that a person, an activity, a thing -- and I'm incredibly lucky to have found mine by coincidence and social media.

So how does it work? Lots of Skype, mostly. And British Airways. A week ago yesterday, I was on a plane back from spending a few days in Edinburgh with Jody -- a visit that only confirmed that I need to be living there, getting on with our life together.

That's why I've had a complete lack of bitterness lately, why I've been smiling all the time, and listening to sappy songs, and why my friends keep threatening to shoot down all the cartoon bluebirds that currently surround me. In spite of the huge distance, this is the best relationship I've ever had, the happiest I've ever been.

So I have nothing snarky to end this with. Just a big goofy grin and a hope that this happens for everyone I know, because it's awesome.

Heaven aka Centre Bell

After many years of being a fan of the Montreal Canadiens, I finally got to see them at home last night. And it was one of the greatest nights of my life.

It's hard for non-sports fans to understand the love one can have for a team, how their wins and losses, their hot streaks and injuries, can affect us as deeply as if we're members of the squad ourselves. And there's something about Les Canadiens that makes that run even deeper. Habs fans don't just love our team, we bleed the bleu-blanc-rouge. As the Habs go, Montreal goes.

So you can imagine my sheer ecstasy at getting to be in their building, surrounded by fellow obsessives of le tricolore. I figured if I was going to make the trip to Montreal for a game, I'd get the best seat possible (5th row, Habs end of the ice, right in front of the faceoff circle), against our most hated rivals, the Boston Bruins.

The atmosphere was incredible. The team played beautifully, fast and intelligent, not falling into the thuggish bang-and-crash style of the Bruins. I shouted Go Habs Go and sang the Ole song until my voice was close to leaving me. I booed Zdeno Chara* every time he touched the puck.

And we beat those classless Boston excuse-monkeys 2-1.

A few Bruins fans were also in attendance, including 2 young boys seated next to me for the third period. They were part of a family split into two sections, so for the 3rd, the boys (aged probably 8 and 10) were left alone beside me. As soon as the period was underway, one of the kids started in with smack talk -- the Habs are garbage, Josh Gorges sucks -- so I glanced over at him, and our eyes met. Silence. I didn't give him a look by any stretch of the imagination, just briefly met eyes.

He didn't utter a single negative word for the rest of the game. Neither did I, for that matter.

In the end, I was in too good a mood to say anything rude to anyone. I fell asleep happy last night, hoping to be back for more games, but satisfied with the experience if it never happens again.


*It has been 2 years since a mega-check from Chara left my hockey crush and perennial Montreal favourite Max Pacioretty with a broken vertebra and a severe concussion. The hit was deemed clean by the league, but was so hard and damaging that legal charges were considered. Even though Max made an amazing recovery and had a career year in 2011-2012, Habs fans still boo the Boston captain every time he touches the puck. I think we will forever, and I think that's completely fair.

Some Frightened Rabbit Shows

If you've been paying attention on here, or any other social media, you know that Frightened Rabbit is my favourite band. My current musical taste is pretty much Robbie Williams, Frightened Rabbit, then a bunch of other bands spread across all genres. Shrug, I can't explain myself.

I'm currently in Chicago, where I was lucky enough to see Frightened Rabbit for the fourth time, and the show was amazing as always. I went to a concert of theirs for the first time last year, and have hit 3 gigs in the past 4 weeks. I practically have the set list memorised, and -- much as I love the big finale of the show -- as soon as I hear the first notes of The Loneliness and the Scream, I get a little sad that the night is ending. I always thoroughly enjoy myself, no matter whether the rest of the crowd is going mad (Glasgow), too cool to participate (Seattle, both times), or somewhere in between (Chicago).

I've always compared music to love affairs and friendships (maybe because I care more about music than people a lot of the time), and seeing a band live is like the physical aspect. In that analogy, it's as if I'm in a long distance relationship with Frightened Rabbit. I listen to them all the time (that's the all talk and no sex part), but long to see them live as much as possible. And whenever I do, I fall in love all over again. That's why I took the chance to fly to Chicago for them, and detoured to Glasgow when I was in Scotland. It's like a flight across the country... or halfway around the world... to sex up someone who you love but don't get to be in the same room with on a daily basis.

Maybe I should find a local Seattle band to obsess over, or go back to casually liking bands and not caring if I see them live very often, might be easier. Nah... these guys are worth it.

Author's note: This post is not drawing any parallels to other aspects of my life. Fine, not intentionally. All right, it is, but just don't mention it, OK? Thanks.

Pittodrie Stadium - Aberdeen v Ross County

I always seem to fall for losing teams. Sports are never consistent, so of course they occasionally have glorious winning streaks, but they never last long enough, or happen often enough. So it seems it may be with the Dons.

I had always found soccer less than interesting, but several months ago I arbitrarily started watching some. There was a tournament going on that everybody on Twitter was, well, a-twitter about, so I gave it a try. And enjoyed it. So when the NHL lockout left me sport-less, I asked Twitter what football team I should follow, just as a diversion. My tweep Calum told me the Scottish Premier League was the place to be, and I should become an Aberdeen fan. Since I've always found it easy to love most things Scottish, I gave the Dons a try, and immediately got hooked.

Now, months later, I've used part of my Scotland trip to see them live. And it was awesome. Well, the game wasn't that spectacular, but I'll get to that.

I arrived at the stadium to discover my seat was only a few rows up, but it was next to a column that blocked about 1/4 of the pitch. The old gentleman sitting next to me noticed how bad my view was, so when nobody sat on the other side of him, we both scooted down so that I was only missing one corner. The guy, incidentally, turned out to be quite amusing. He started out muttering rubbish, rubbish whenever the Dons' play was less than ideal, but as the game went on, his volume increased. His helpful commentary was mostly in the form of pointing his program at a player and shouting there's another clown! or you're useless! and telling pretty much everyone on the team to give it to McGinn.

Tonight wasn't Aberdeen's best outing, by a long shot. They gave up the ball too often and didn't put it toward the goal often enough. At the same time, the officiating was... what's the phrase I'm looking for... somewhat questionable? No, wildly one-sided. That's the phrase: wildly one-sided. And it's not my Aberdeen bias making me say that. At least I don't think so.

After a nil-nil first half, Ross County managed to score in the second. Despite a Dons push in the final few minutes, it ended at 1-0. Another chance to see one of my teams in person, another loss.

All in all, though, it was a fantastic time. Pittodrie is a small stadium, and my closeness to the pitch made it feel even more exciting. And by the way, those footballers are hot. I mean, HOT. I would totally do a Don.

Erm. Anyway.

It was my first live game of real football, and I think I love the sport ten times more now. So poor team showing and loss aside, I had an absolutely spectacular time.

Edinburgh. Again.

I'm a bit late writing this, seeing as I left Edinburgh nearly 24 hours ago, but it could still use a brief recap.

When I first visited Edinburgh -- maybe 3 or 4 years ago, don't remember -- I liked it, but figured I wouldn't be back. I enjoy Scotland's capital city, I just don't tend to return to places a lot unless I have a good reason.

Turns out rugby is the reason.

I've been following rugby union, particularly the Six Nations tournament, and backing Team Scotland, since I discovered the sport in the 90s. (Which is incidentally the last time Scotland won 6 Nations... 5 Nations at the time.) I never dreamed that I'd be sitting in the pouring rain of Wellington at the World Cup cheering them on in 2011, but I was there. And when I came to Edinburgh last year to see them play a Six Nations match at home... even better.

So I returned to Murrayfield this year, for the Scotland v Ireland match... which our boys in blue won, 12-8! I felt especially good about the win because I've never gotten to see Scotland win a rugby match in person. Well, they dominated an exhibition against Team USA that I attended long ago, but not a real, counts in a tourney match.

It also occurred to me that I've now been to Edinburgh three times, over at least that many years, and I've never seen it not under construction. I'm already calling this an annual rugby trip, although I won't necessarily go to a home game every Six Nations... so maybe by the next time I visit Edinburgh, the tram will be finished and I'll see the city in a new light.

No matter what, I'll keep backing blue, and flying wherever their games take me... Murrayfield and beyond.

Old Age

I've had a strange realisation lately... that I'm old.

It's not because I've officially entered middle age*, although I have. And it's not because I've stopped slowly covering my entire body with tattoos or chasing commitment-phobic twenty-something men, because I definitely haven't.

It's because I don't find it fun to binge drink for the sake of binge drinking anymore.

I do enjoy drinking a whole lot in one sitting.
And bar hopping.
And getting to such a ridiculous state with my friends that I laugh half the next day away looking at all the tweets and photos about it.

But that's not enough. I want a good craft cocktail in my hand while I'm doing it. Or a bloody mary, or a beer, if that's what fits the situation. I want quality over quantity. Even at home, I make a nice martini after work. Sitting at a bar with a way-too-stiff vodka soda just doesn't do it for me anymore.

The experience is what I want, not only the crazy drunken result.

And when I look around, I can see that this makes me old.

Or really bourgie. But I'm pretty sure it's old.


*Seriously, if I live to be 74 or less, my life is half over already. 74 isn't an unreasonable life span, people.

 

The Record Store, 2012 edition

I'm old school when it comes to music. Sure, I listen to Spotify all day, I've got a giant mp3 library in addition to a bookcase full of CDs and vinyl, but compared to kids these days, I'm a dinosaur. I hate to download a single and have no concept of anything else the artist has ever done. I most appreciate a record -- a record of an event wherein a band played together and created a piece of art -- that I can listen to from start to finish, over and over, without groaning or hitting the skip button.

So at the end of every year, I look back and choose my favourite records, those albums that I listened to, end to end, obsessively. While some of my most loved tracks of the year came from Fun. and Japandroids, I couldn't get through the entire album in either case. And although I enjoyed the whole record put out in 2012 by Of Monsters and Men, and the fantastic return of Neil Young & Crazy Horse with Americana, they didn't grab me and hold on, so they were out as well.

Given that criteria, here are my records of 2012, based entirely on my taste and nothing more:

Admiral Fallow - Tree Bursts in Snow
I discovered this band on the suggestion of a Twitter friend who was shocked that I loved Frightened Rabbit, but had never heard of these guys. They're straightforward, solid, Scottish rock in the tradition of Travis and the Delgados, among so many others. And their 2011 offering Boots Met My Face might even be better than this record.


First Aid Kit - The Lion's Roar
Two Swedish sisters, idolising Simon & Garfunkel, and kicking much ass. That's all you need to know.


Frightened Rabbit - State Hospital ep
OK, it's only a five song ep, but it's still one of the best things to come out this year. Yes, they're among my very favourite bands, but they're also that good. In fact, based on the first single, their upcoming record Pedestrian Verse is certain to be on many Best of 2013 lists. 

K's Choice - Little Echoes
A band I've loved since the 90s is back together, and releasing their records in the US again. Here they've created an acoustic collection of covers and remakes of their own songs, which all turned out beautiful. Sarah Bettens can make anything haunting, trust me.


Radio Radio - Havre de Grâce
Brilliant rap/electronica/unclassified awesomeness from Montreal. It's not for everyone, but if you get it... Damn, it's good.


The Real McKenzies - Westwinds
Punk Vancouver-style, except with Scottish accents, bagpipes, and some traditional tunes thrown in. This band has been getting better with every record for many years, and this one rocks.


SonReal & Rich Kidd - The Closers
Americans have it all wrong when it comes to hip-hop. The best stuff continually comes out of Canada (mainly Toronto), and the collaboration of these two is a perfect example. They both produce great stuff on their own, but the combo is absolute dynamite.


Robbie Williams - Take the Crown
Yes, I'm a huge fan, and I'd probably put this on the list if it sucked. But it doesn't. This is the best record Rob has put out in years; he's at the top of his game. It's a bit hard to get in the States, but it's well worth the effort if you have any interest in the greatest Brit pop going.


So that's my list, which went from a top five in 2011 to eight in 2012... let's hope the 2013 class is even bigger. Happy New Year!