One sporadic day while I was visiting my mother out in the country, I had come across a marvellous little wonder that had decided to catch my eye. There on the front lawn of her old, stone home sat a small Mayan warrior statue peeking its head out of the grass. I picked him up from the ground. He was mystically carved. His sword had been broken off and his clay body covered in mud. I immediately asked my mother who this statue had belonged to.
“That’s the landlord’s Jaden. You’re standing in his yard.” My mother had pulled me back down to Earth.
This Mayan warrior would no longer be in the “landlord’s” company. The Mayan warrior was now a piece of my soul.
“I’m taking him. I don’t care what you say.” I replied and nothing had ever been spoken ever since. He was mine.
I had un-wrapped the clay warrior from his newspaper shelter and brought him into the living room of the new apartment where I sat him on the couches end table and stuck a stick of incense in his mouth. Dylan stared at me with a fresh joint sparked in his mouth... This was home.
Dylan immediately got on his phone after a solid balcony session and called a bunch of our mutual friends over for drinks. I remember that night as well as I ever will but keep in mind this is where things begin to get a little hazy. The previous year Dylan and Tom had committed themselves to a couple of programs at Algonquin College. Dylan (rather obviously) was taking photography and was now in his second year. Thomas was taking electrical engineering but had a falling out about half way through the year. The course was not for him. They had lived in Algonquin Residence during the year. I was there at every opportunity I possibly could have taken in between my return to high school for a semester and work. Algonquin Residence has become a Nazi recruitment camp ever since but when we were there the place was set ablaze with frenzy. Booze, drugs, metal and all the fun we could throw ourselves toward. This however was the catalyst life choice that had brought us together with so many of our closest Ottawa friends today the Barhavener’s, Maggie, Jessica and Sam. The Barhavener`s consisted of many great people. Andrew Cottingham, Brendy Rygus, Ryan Lafrenier, Steph H, Rebecca Leach, and the list goes on. Most of these friends came out of the photography program at Algonquin including Maggie and Jessica. Jessica was the happiest person I had ever come across complete with dread locks and a thunderous laugh like no other. Maggie had become very fond of Dylan over the growing years and Dylan of Maggie.
The responses came quick. Everyone was eager to get to Baseline and party in our new found apartment and one by one, sure enough the heads rolled in. There were new faces amidst the crowd. One in particular I will never forget. She was beautiful and glowing. Her name was Laura. Before I delve into this story I feel obligated to relay a little insight of the perpetual relations I tend to have with women.
I have been known to be unkind and un-fair in many circumstances mainly because I am a very self oriented human being. I am an extremely self driven person when it comes to matters of human relationships and most of the time I do not fare well because of this. I am one to pursue, indulge, love and when things go awry (as most relationships with girls usually tend to do) rarely ever retain. I have become extremely comfortable with who I am and confidence is something I dispose in vast quantities. So having relayed this information... Her name was Laura.
The party was booming and the drinks were flying but I had one thing on my mind...Discovery. I had finally found myself in a new place amidst new people and I was all for forming new bonds. I sent some subtle eye gestures her way and had begun to start making some small conversation. The progression happened fast. Alcohol will bring out a lion in anybody. “Liquid courage” as my dad had always said. My friends and I had never been stranger’s to alcohol.
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