If an elephant 6000 miles
away stomps on my heart,
does it make a sound?

There's nothing worse than shivering alone in your sub arctic bedroom watching an online photo slideshow of an ex girlfriend in some far off tropical land elephant riding to cascading waterfalls, tubing down tranquil rivers, smoking grass with locals, going on boat trips to islands and old caves, visiting temples, biking around remote villages and eating amazing food. Actually, that's not true. The only thing that could make that even worse would be if there was a new boyfriend along for the ride.



Oh, wait. There he is.

So that makes two online ex-girlfriend photo albums that I now have at my disposal. Add to that the URL for two other's personal blogs, and that's quite a heavy dose of masochism at my finger tips. Luckily, from the lack of anonymous "Fuck you you heartless swine for wasting years of my life eat shit and die you bastard" comments, I think that its safe to assume that most have yet to find mine.

So while one picks freshly caught shrimp shells from her teeth on a fishing boat in Thailand, another smokes BC Bud off her condo's deck overlooking Vancouver harbour, and the other, well, lies on the couch watching my movies in the other room, I can't help but feel like the one constant in this whole crummy deal called life.

Which really brings me to the point of this whole post. I have a $700 travel voucher for a plane ticket anywhere in the world and it's burning a whole in my back pocket. Now of course I realize that that's far too little to pull a John Cusack in High Fidelity and visit each of them to try to find out just what it is about me that makes women tend to flee the country shortly after our relationship ends. Besides, I think I already know the answer to that question.

No, I want to do something spontaneous. Like fly to Gander, Newfoundland and back for a loaf of bread. Or, better yet, empty my bank accounts, max my visa, burn all the cash I have on me, buy a plane ticket to whatever island I can get to that is the furthest possible point from land and see if I can figure out how I'm going to get home.

Or maybe I'll just fly to the furthest Blockbuster I can find on the globe and rent a dvd then try to return it to Quinpool Road.

Who's in?