April
Hockey playoffs are here. Life has meaning. Still ploughing away on that book. I’m late on my March 31, deadline… but I have a fear that the publisher has split. Rumors abound. SAFO’s coming together but this Colburn gal is bugging me. Never responds. Maybe this was a mistake. Got Richard O’Connor on board though. He’ll be a good fresh perspective… and the best dressed jury member ever. Marcel Jean will hold them all together. Starting to train for the 10k race… but pain in the knee. Need new shoes I guess.

Teachers saying they might hold Jarvis back. Fuck them. Montessori is supposed to be about the kid’s going at their OWN pace. What gives. Turned the public school across the street into a private school. Found a review copy of Nick Tosches’ new book. Am I in heaven, baby. Great. Senators knocked off the Islanders… yeah… off to Detroit. Showing Ottawa best of at college there. I hate Detroit. My biological father lives there. He wants nothing to do with me I think cause his alcoholic wife thinks its wrong. I brought his number. We had a good time in 2000, got drunk talked hockey and gals. Never saw him again. I should call him… but I won’t. Read Tosches’ book. Disappointing. Damn.

May
Back to Detroit. Reviewing this school’s animation dept. Nice people there. Detroit still sucks. I do nothing but watch TV at night cause there ain’t nowhere to go. Drove this time. What a dull drive from Ottawa-Toronto-Windsor-Detroit. Wanted out so bad I drove back at 9:30 pm… got to Ottawa around 5:00 am. Hallucinated for the last two hours. Was convinced something was in the trunk. Sens beat the Flyers. Off to the semi-finals! Listened to Canucks/Wild game and blared Alien Lanes through Oshawa.

Getting’ real stressed. Almost to the end of the hockey book. It’s eating me apart. Realize that I have not forgiven my parents… have not forgiven myself. Decide to do two things — tell stepdad-cop that I cannot accept him as he is…. tell mom she was a terrible parent, but I forgive her. Didn’t see that coming. Kelly’s off to Turku. I bailed. Too much into this book. Estonians are driving me crazy. They assure me we’re launching the book at Annecy… but I haven’t even seen the cover. I enjoy weeks alone with Jarvis. We have a good ol’ casual time. No mom rhythm to get in the way.

I finish the hockey book the night that the Senators tie the series with the Devils. Also my birthday. Decide to spend $100 on Game 7 tickets. Crazy. Ottawa is crazy with Stanley cup fever. You can feel this pride and togetherness and confidence surging through the city. I show up two hours early and sit alone in the empty rink watching it fill with people. Ottawa loses. They’re tied with two minutes to go and they blow it. A simple defensive play fucked up. The city is shot silent. Fuckaduck. I can still see that Friesen goal. Off to Annecy. Send my manuscript to the publisher. He’s gone under. Fuck me. Need a new publisher. Gonna be hard. This ain’t no conventional bio. Saw the Estonian cover. Looks great.

Fly to Amsterdam, great drive with Gerben, Anet and Erik (Holland festival friends). Spend a night in Paris… I order some ugly ass fucking fish that I refuse to eat. Every time I go to Paris I order something stupid, says Gerben. He likes to remind me that he’s better than me.

June
Long drive to Annecy… but a good time… beautiful mountains… pit stops… lots of music… got into Dylan’s Royal Albert concert. Relaxing man. Arrive at Annecy. Hmm… I’m bored. Ticket system sucks. Nice to see friends… but too many to see… just becomes stupid. Estonians arrive late. Book looks great. I think I slept with the book that night. Find out the Estonians didn’t even fucking reserve a space for the launch. Gerben, Anet and I race around to ensure that we have one. Goes well. Everyone says they like the book. Of course they’re going to say that.

Jogged every morning. Nice to jog in Annecy, man. Festival was OK… but student films were bad except for this crazy one by this JJ Villard guy. Wanna see that one again. Was given a VHS copy of Priit Parn’s new film. Man was I disappointed. Priit needs a rest. Left the party quietly. Too many people to say bye too. Fuggit. Eager to go. One more night in Paris. Remember this Italian rest. Chick talking about the “darkies.” I can’t believe I heard that word especially from another immigrant!

Line up for four hours in Paris airport. Lost my heart monitor watch. Air Canada cuts meets French hospitality. Oh man. Got back. Get sent to Toronto Immigration. Held for 20 minutes. Apparently Chris Robinson, with the same birthdate, is wanted in a variety of U.S. states for a variety of offences. Jesus man… after about 10 minutes… I think back to my drinking days. Maybe I was in Jacksonville? Did I assault a cop? Finally they release me and note that I’m not the guy on their computer.

Start doing pre-selection for SAFO. Monday, June 16. Letter arrives from Telefilm Canada. They’re cutting all our funding. Just like that. I dust off my résumé and apply for some jobs. I’ve had it. Fuck this festival and fuck all this idiot Canadian bureaucrats who want something for nothing. Kelly O Brien died. Oh man… she founded the festival. Ward-Gatti 3 is this week… but I watch Ward-Gatti 2. Ward gets his ear drum punctured, but refuses to go down. Inspires me to fight these Telefilm Canada dipshits. Next three to four weeks is spent planning a massive media campaign. Jarvis finishes school. Doing pretty well but still behind. Teacher meetings make me angry. Why? Two writers read my hockey book and like it a lot. Makes me feel pretty damn good despite it all.