In the flurry of activity that has been my time since I arrived in the Bay area, there has been little room for tea sipping and journal writing (a staple to my postive mental health). On this warm Saturday I have stolen a few moments to think about the current state of affairs, the weeks that just past and the week that waits ahead.

A little over a week ago Crystal arrived in Las Vegas. We embraced at the bottom of the escaltor in Maccarn (oh damn you LAS for bringing and taking so many people to/from me) and nothing could have prepared me for the incredible blissful, warm, hilarious, ridiculous days ahead. We amused ourselves with fine and not so fine dining, night clubbing and "day life", pool side and lame and not-so-lame pick up attempts. Over coffee and muffins and vodka water and blackjack we caught up on each others lives and shared laughed and cried the way we always have and hopefully always will. Crystal left Las Vegas and I checked out. I was ready to go too.

A week and a little ago, Captian Jason Arthur returned home from Afghanistan. I met Jason several years ago at a Starbucks in Calgary NW. I was more nervous than on most of my first dates. This wasn't just any man. This was a man attached to someone else I loved, someone else I cared about, someone else who mattered. I listened carefully to Mat's desciption, and waited all antsy for the dark, handsome, fit pilot I was about to meet. Fortunately for me we hit it off great with our shared interests of cycling, running, coffee and Mat. We laughed. I was relieved. Over the course of the following years I was lucky enough to include Jason into my realm of friends. I always like going out with Jason and Mat, because people cannot figure out which one "I am with". I like the scandle it creates, the boys mostly laugh. Over scrabble and cider and gluten free meals this man has become part of my life. I always knew his career was going to take him overseas to dangerous places, but I was unprepared for how much it would be on my mind and on my heart while he was gone. When he returned to Canadian Soil I rejoiced. Rejoiced for me, for Mat, for Canada, for the heroic job he does that we can't even know totally about.

This morning is sunny in Berkeley and I am about to hop on my bike, head to BART, train into the city and pick up my race package for tomorrow's triathlon. To say I am scared an understatement, to say I am excited isn't entirely accurate, but instead my world is a blend of these things; the anxiety, excitment, fear and thrill that comes from this kind of event. It is my imminent future. And it is exciting.

In only a few short days I will flip countries, return north, and start a new set of exciting work. Hiring new leaders and training them, spending my spring and early summer helping the new seeds sprout and grow. Maybe in the process I will gain a  little growth myself. You never know.