"Argo" won. Really?

Michael and I went to see "Argo".  We never go to movies.  We went to see this one in the theatre and we were like "it was good, but kind of meh".  And it won.  Holy crap.  Suddenly I'm really thinking that I should work on my limp, flaccid book tomorrow.
But the point of this is that I read my last post and it's amazing how I moved my physical self from North Vancouver to White Rock, was in the company of my friends for the weekend and yet I managed to remain in my head the entire time.
Neat trick!
I lament my lost childhood, high school sucked, I hate urban sprawl: most people are probably in the same boat.
Oh, and Rod Storesley?  He got into a car accident at some point and used the money he got from ICBC to buy some douchey car.  He became a teacher.  It might even have been at some sort of Christian school.  He wore a Miami Dolphins jersey in grade 9.  Yeah.  I really missed out on that.  Dan Marino, who?
Anyways, the gist of it is that man, I had a great time with my friends on Saturday night.  I am so lucky to have three great ladies in my life that I love individually and that also get along collectively.  I don't think any of us are going to be having kids and I'm getting to the point where I have to "create" my own family and I am very privileged to think that they constitute a significant part of that.
Also?  A stork landed on the promenade and it walked right by me and R and it was like the randomest thing ever.  It was all like "Yeah, I see you there with your cool, tousled haircut and your sweet leather jacket and those rockin' red shoes.  I see you, girl.  I see you strutting your stuff on the walkway here and honey, this?  This right here?  This is how you strut."
And then today we got up and had breakfast at the Five Corners Cafe (no website so here's a review by a foodie blogger that I enjoy reading) before heading to Crescent Beach.
And here's the story about Crescent Beach that I've never told anyone about until today, when I told R.  And now I'm telling you.
Twice in my life I have gone to Crescent Beach, picked a pebble off the beach and made a wish.  And twice it's come true.  Unfortunately I can't remember what my first wish was.
The second wish I made was when I was in my early twenties.  I was living at home and a guy that I had become friends with (like, talk until 3am in the morning friends) had suggested that we perhaps move our friendship to another level.  The problem was that I was in my early twenties and I believe he had just turned 40.  He was so good to me.  We played tennis.  We went for dinner.  He taught me how to play pool.  He tried to encourage me to be a friendlier person.  He knocked on my door when I still lived at my parents home to deliver to me some freshly baked bread (or salmon: my memory fails me.  I know that he had been on a fishing trip and he had a beard when he dropped by so I think it might have been salmon, but for some reason I think it was bread, and also I'm getting my Jesus parables all mixed up).
Anyways, one night we went out on a real date and I remember actually coming home and waking my mom up to tell her what a great night I'd had and that I wanted to move forward with it and how happy I was.  My mom said that was great, but that I should really consider the age difference because when I would be forty, which is just around the corner, he would be sixty.
And I did think about it.  And I didn't pursue it because of the age difference.  And, in retrospect, I probably handled it more callously than I ought to have because I was young and stupid, but we very rarely and occasionally email each other and he's married now and has two or three kids and I hope every day for him is full of joy and satisfaction.
So.  All those years ago I went to Crescent Beach and I found a pebble I liked and I walked to the end of the pier and I wished that I could meet someone like Harry.  Someone who was a great conversationalist; who was patient with me; who was open minded; upbeat; funny; passionate; fun to be around; fit; attractive and kind, but that was closer to my age.
Shortly thereafter I met Michael.
In the past month with my assessment looming, dealing with Michael's tenuous job situation, my grandmother's failing health, Michael's grandmother passing away, my impending leave of absence, I had thought about making the long commute to Crescent Beach to make another wish.
I'm not a superstitious person at all.  And I know that desperate people can find faith and belief where there is only coincidence.
Nonetheless.
We walked along the beach today and I found the perfect rock.  And we walked to the end of the pier and I recited in my head what I wanted.
And then I threw it.