I'm late!

I need someone to explain something to me, though, for when I get home.

Why do we strive so hard to hide pain? Why is it so fundamentally important to us to conceal from everyone just how agonizingly difficult some days/some things/some illnesses are?

I might elaborate more on this when I have more time.

It just struck me the other day, and I had to ask. I don't understand, but I do it myself, I see all my friends do it. No one wants to admit they're in pain. They just retreat into a corner to lick their wounds, they try to ride it out, walk it off, shrug it away as though it were nothing, try not to worry their friends and family. That's always more important than what they're going through.

I do it, they do it, we all do it. I don't understand why. Someone 'splain please?

Off to bed now...

I just had to say what an incredibly good day I had.

Really, this kind of day only happens every now and again, and I have to cherish them. Brunch with miseri, the_lich and fearsclave, which was a heck of a lot of fun, even if we concluded the world was going to pot because of George Bush and partly because Paul Martin appears to lack the spine Jean Chrétien had when he was our Prime Minister.

Then, fearsclave and I headed to Canadian Tire, where he got me the bestest. Christmas. present. ever. Snowshoes.

We went snowshoeing on Summit Circle for almost two hours after that, took photos galore with his digital camera, including a little bit of video footage (with obligatory Blair Witch moment, courtesy of fearsclave), which he'll likely put up online soon, and I'll link to it then.

It was peaceful and quiet, and there were dogs bounding randomly into the scene at intervals to wag happily at us and then bounding off again to rejoin their masters somewhere off in the woods. We trekked almost undisturbed through the wilderness and admired the snow-covered trees, and had a lovely time. We've decided to go every Sunday morning.I'm really looking forward to it.

We followed that up with a jaunt over to the Paramount movie theatre, where we had New York fries and had a more serious talk, and then lightened the mood with a screening of The Incredibles. That way I got to prove to fearsclave that the creators of the movie secretly had cameras installed in his home and office and stole his life and put it in that movie.

Seriously. fearsclave is Mr. Incredible. It's uncanny. The mannerisms, the look, even the outlook on life. I have many, many other people who will back me up on this.

I drove him home after the day's excitement, replete and contented with a day well spent.

And now I am going to go pass out happily in my bed.

This has been a Good Day. I am grateful for every moment that I have had.