self-imposed isolation

it's a very winter night in as much as a cool draft wafts in from the nearby window. i could close it, i suppose, but i like the mingled scents that trail the draft. leaves decomposing, rain evaporating as the night clears, that all-too-fresh smell that indicates the absolute onset of winter.

it's reassuring somehow, and seems to indicate to me precisely why i'm home on a friday evening. i have the advantage of knowing the week that's before me: a hockey game, a drunken binge of a staff party, a much-anticipated concert, a long week of work, with many things to do besides.

i'm looking forwards to it, though. i've had literally six weeks of isolation this autumn: a couple weeks spent recuperating from a motor crash, and another four (thus far) stuck on a malfunctioning knee. i don't really begrudge time spent alone, though, because i find myself entertaining.

when going through adversity of any kind, it sometimes means weaning off of your friends or family for a bit. people offer consolation and sympathy a little too readily, and encouragement too seldom. i find that their concern very easily becomes worry, and worry is often only the anticipation of the worst-case scenario. i believe in concern, but worry has only ever gotten me into trouble.

if i can't control their reactions to my challenges, i can at least control my exposure to those reactions, right? and i've made a few of those difficult choices this month. it's easier sometimes for me to get by on my margin of positivity than to draw on the mixed emotions of others.

so that leaves me at home tonight. i'm also at home just out of a desire to listen to the rain falling and because i have invested in an exceptional bottle of Shiraz. (you will, of course, note the first use of capitalization to this point.) a 2001 bottle cost all of an undervalued dollar more than the 2002. naturally, i splurged.

i don't think there's anything wrong with being alone and drinking a little too much wine now and again. this isn't some "let's get waxed!" sophomoric endeavour. it takes a long time to go down, but it's a worthy enough pursuit that i feel willing to commit the time it takes.

these rare nights of drinking a bottle of vino solo are very restorative for me. a conscious re-indication of my living my life on my terms, it rekindles my sense of manifest destiny. i usually spend these evenings writing, too, as i enjoy the pause and reflection it brings me.

the wine needs to be good, though. i don't try new wines on these nights unless i'm spending more than $20. usually, though, the familiar is more attractive. this line from an old matt broderick indie flick sums my thoughts on love & wine: "love is like politics: the incumbent usually wins."

a toast: oscar wilde said it better than anyone: "to love yourself is the beginning of a lifelong romance," so here's to romance.