It's been a while. So long, in fact, that I need more than one post to really fill you in on everything, gentle reader.

Let's begin where we left off. The election. Did it turn out the way I wanted it to? No, absolutely not. But it could've been worse. Now we'll just have another election, in about a year and a half, depending on how useless this Parliament turns out to be. And now I get to implore all of my American readers, who I know are absolutely going to go out and vote anyway, to go out and vote. If I don't say it and you don't do it, I'd just blame myself. Anyway, you've got a week – make it a good one, so you can have many more.

In the days following the Canadian election, I found myself preparing for what can only be described as the biggest international event in the history of Halifax, Nova Scotia, the Maritimes, and perhaps even Canada. On Thursday, October 16th, Matthew Haven ventured from the less-than-bitter-cold of Michigan, to the bitter cold of Halifax.

My preparations were, quite frankly, minimal. Having just spent a weekend in a shockingly well-equipped guest wing, I felt a compulsion to make my room as guest-compatible as possible. I invested in a twin-sized Aerobed (useless), a new blanket (useless for the weekend, possible long-term use), did nearly eight hours of laundry (quite useful), and cleaned as much as I could. My favourite pre-Matthew activity, though? Heading to Best Buy to pick up an auxilary audio cable and discovering that the Canadian stores are, indeed, participating in a certain Buffy promotion.

As previously noted, Matthew arrived on the night of the 16th, at Stanfield Airport. After what I'm told was a lengthy and ridiculous interrogation by the wonderful Immigration Thugs of Canada, Matthew and I physically met for the first time.

I've known Matthew for a very long time, longer than any of my other closest friends, actually. It all started at Time Does the Talking, a now all-but-defunct Patty Griffin message board. Though I'm sure my salacious posts had caught his eye before, it wasn't until I messaged him regarding his cover of "Every Little Bit" that we began to actually talk to one another. For no reason that I can understand, I thought I was qualified to offer him vocal tips, even though my own vocal stylings were only slightly more desirable than sudden amputation. Since then (sometime in July of 2004, I think), Matthew and I have sent many a suggestive message back and forth, as well as conducted several actual conversations. Our plans to visit each other had always gone awry, our schedules or my age getting in the way. But no more!

I don't know if you, gentle reader, have ever met somebody for the first time, after having known them for five years and telling them many things about yourself that no one else knows. It has the potential to be quite a singular experience. Luckily, for whatever reason, this did not seem to be the case with Matthew. Sure, there was the slightly awkward first moments, in which I tried to be as witty as I think I am, when I'm online. The problem being that real life doesn't allow time to think of and type out clever responses.

When we returned to my room, I decided to forego cleverness and, instead, try to impress Mr. Haven with my rather rudimentary knowledge of the classical guitar, while he impressed me with the astounding change in his voice. I'd like to think that this change was a result of my vocal tips, but I know better. Still, though… impressive!

Unfortunatey, the next day, I had to essentially leave my guest to his own devices. If I hadn't routinely been a scheduling nightmare at my lab, I wouldve asked for the afternoon off. But, alas, I went in and wrote a short manual on website maintenance, before taking Matthew on a brief and somewhat chilly tour of the Dalhousie University Studley campus and Spring Garden Road. We even took a small trip to the Hallifax Folklore Centre, which isn't nearly as interesting, when you don't have a reason to be there. That night, Aaron, Jonathan, Matthew, and I headed over to Bayer's Lake, to see Religulous. Happily, everyone enjoyed it. What I found truly disturbing, however, was that it was Matthew's first time to a movie theatre, in several years. This was quite unfortunate, considering the rather crappy trailer and always horrifying pre-show.

Afterwards, we headed out to Darrell's, with Kerrie in tow. I was able to reaffirm my belief that the Peanut Butter Burger is,  in a word, genius. Sam and Dave weren't sure it could be done. How wrong they were! I did feel bad, though, that the restaurant was pretty much closed when we showed up. That wouldn't really compare to how I would feel later that night, when my very evil friends subjected Matthew to Iron Man.

I'm not going to lie. When I saw it in theatres, I enjoyed that film. I had a good time, I thought it was funny. I, apparently, was on drugs. I really wish I could've shown Matthew The Dark Knight, instead. I have a feeling that he feels an innate aversion to that film, which is unfortunate, considering that other Christopher Nolan films populate his Favourite Movies list. The benfit of Iron Man, however, was that Matt and I were both able to get a much-deserved nap, so that we could then lie down and watch some classic Ellen DeGeneres stand-up, later that night.

Our plans to go out for breakfast and visit Peggy's Cove, however, were thwarted by our unparalleled
ability to sleep all day. We woke up around mid-afternoon and decided to take a walk downtown and along the waterfront. Perhaps one of the highlights of my entire time in Halifax was walking across Barrington Street with Matthew, while two young girls played "Sweet Lorraine" on the street corner. Really, how much better could it get? We ended up spending most of the afternoon wandering about Halifax or, more specifically, its safe neighborhoods. There was a significant number of couples having their wedding photos taken. It's always such a chore to resist the urge to purposefully walk through the background of these photos, especially when they're being taken in such a public place. It always amuses me to think that I may be an indelible aspect of a person's memory of a certain day or event.

We had planned to go out that evening. I think it may have been a combination of my laziness and the fact that Matthew's legs were oddly pained that led to us staying in and simply watching my television for the night. I have to be honest – I was more than disturbed that Matthew didn't immediately (or eventually) fall in love with Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. Luckily for him, he made up for that by introducing me to RiffTrax.

And then, suddenly, it was Sunday and Matt was leaving the next day. After a satisfactory breakfast at Cora's, we took what I think was a rather pretty drive out to Peggy's Cove. I hadn't been there in a while and I thought it would be kinda neat to show Matthew something uniquely Canadian and Acadian, before he left. We spent most of our time just wandering about the town and then making our way to the Swissair 111 Memorial, which was understandably sad.

In the evening, I took Matthew to what is now my favourite restaurant in Halifax, Economy Shoe Shop. It wasn't even the food (which was quite good) that made me love the place so much, but rather the atmosphere. The fact that it was pretty early on a Sunday night helped, but it very quiet, dim and quite frankly romantic. (Rickard's beer, however, sucks complete ass.)

Fast-forward to Monday morning and we're at the airport again. Damn you, time. Honestly? Our goodbye was kinda lame. Somewhat similar to a parting after a nice business lunch. Oh well. I plan to fly out to visit him in whatever city he's in, when I have the time and money. I'll make up for it (or make him) then.

So, then, on Wednesday, I got an email.