The internet is a strange beast. It provides us with the illusion of relationships, and although I like to think I’m not a total nerd who spends her days staring at a screen instead of actually going out and interacting with people, I have to say I have developed a few of these imaginary friendships over the years. I suppose it’s only normal to feel a certain proximity to people when you catch up on their lives weekly, sometimes daily. The fact that they don’t catch up on yours, or even know you exist for that matter, seems just really unimportant. Most of the time.
Because let me tell you, that fact becomes a huge deal when you actually meet one of these people. All of a sudden, you’re faced with a strange situation: you know what this person likes to eat, the name of their kids/husband/boyfriend/pet/mom/dad, what music they’ve been listening to, the fight they just had with a client… And they don’t know your name yet. Of course, that feeling of closeness and friendship is what brings us back to certain blogs more than others, at least it is for me. One time I was laughing, by myself in front of my laptop. Aaron was curious, he came to see what was up. I showed him this (I just spent 45 minutes looking for this in the archives)… He just said: Why is that funny? And then: You know you don’t know her, right?
So last month, I had the good fortune of going down to New York state to meet Sarah from Saipua. I’ll skip over the part where I got drunk and wrote her an email about a dream I had, where I was at her farm and my dead father came to visit me there. Yes boys and girls, I did that. Are you cringing? I was crying writing the email, I mean, the whole shebang. The next morning, I had a lovely answer in my inbox telling me I was welcome to visit the farm for a week-end. I thought, was the fuck did I just do?
I don’t drive. I have a baby. Is my passport still valid? How the hell am I gonna get there? I actually got everything organized… And then my ride cancelled on me the day before we were supposed to leave. So I took the bus. 7 hours. Someone, another visitor going to lend a hand on the farm, picked me up at the dingiest bus station ever, and on we went to World’s End…
The raw beauty of the place took my breath away. The kind of beauty that’s born from immense, unimaginable possibility.
Everyone was lovely, I made new friends. Built a composting bin and bee hives, ate delicious food, slept by myself in a tent for the first time ever, grilled marshmallows with an expertly sharpened stick, took way too many pictures of sun-bleached barn wood… Chatted with people who’s eyes didn’t roll back in their heads when I said words like “wedding” or “chuppah”… Sunday I left, on such a high that I barely minded when the Greyhound bus broke down on the highway, and the driver told us we were stranded and had to wait for a another bus to come pick us up. 10 hours later I was back home in Montreal… Already thinking about my next trip there.