I'd better watch myself

We're settling into our new house and, by extension, our new life. It's kind of hard to deny that we have a certain commitment to our changed circumstances when you've just signed a 30-year mortgage. Anyway, it got me thinking about the last decade in Toronto, and a few flashbacks came to me:

• Port Hope, Ontario (a lovely small-ish town to the east of Toronto), I am walking down the main street with G., and saying "You know, I wouldn't mind living in a small town at some point. Something on a transit line to a city. Just to see what it would be like." "You'd hate it," says G. "Well, maybe. But would be interesting," I say.
• Antigua, Guatemala, 2005, I am walking the cobblestone streets with Cyp, an instructional technologist. "You know, I am thinking I want to get into this education and technology field. How do I go about that?" Cyp is offering some good advice; I would later apply for an Instructional Technologist position at Ryerson and not get it
• Toronto, probably around 2000, G. and I are musing over coffee, and I am saying "You know, I'd like to try living in the States. Just for a year or two. Just to try it out, see what it's like." "Well, you never know," says G. "You never know," I say.
  

Now I look at where I find myself; an instructional technologist in a small town in the intellectual heartland of the U.S., on a transit line to two major cities.

Before I do any more casual musings, I've got to start being very, very careful.