October 31, 2010

An Open Letter On October 31st

While nearly everyone in the (western) world is consumed with costumes and candy, I think about family on October 31st. Specifically, my mom.

No, she is not a witch. (Wouldn't it be crazy though, if I told you that I grew up in a home like this??) But she was born on Halloween. I won't get distracted by a long explanation of what our family "Halloween" traditions looked like, but they rarely (if ever) involved trick-or-treating, and while I may have pined for it as a child, I am quite content now with our unique family history.

I didn't give my mom a birthday card today. This is her card, which I am letting you all read.


I've been thinking a lot about you in the past two months. As I spend my day with kids, I've been remembering what it was like to be a kid. And now that I am a primary caregiver, I feel like I get glimpses into what it might have been like for you to be my primary caregiver. Except that your job was tougher; you had four kids. Twenty-four hours a day. For twenty-seven years (from Sarah's birth until Jonathan turned eighteen). And really, it's been even longer than that - considering the short-lived success you've had in being an empty-nester!(I know we're all excited for Jonathan to come home, though.)

I feel humbled by the thought of the choices and sacrifices that you made over those years. I can never fully understand it. As a child, I (like all children) had no concept of my parents existing outside of their interactions with me. I lacked the ability to be grateful for the things you did for me, the ways you taught me, and how you lovingly guided me and helped me grow. And now, I know that you did do all those things, but I can't know how it felt (or feels) for you. Maybe someday if/when I am a mother, this will be even more clear.

Is gratitude twenty years on still meaningful? Because that is how I feel. Grateful to have a mother who loves me. Grateful to have a mother who loves Jesus. Grateful to have a mother who loves my father deeply. Grateful to have a mother who gave up many things to raise her children how she thought best. Grateful to have a mother who wants to be my friend - and yet has willingly given me my independence.

I love you.

October 30, 2010

Love You. Bye.

There are two types of phone calls that I'm quite comfortable with:
  1. a phone call with a clear purpose, a question to be answered and an agenda to accomplish.
  2. catching up with close friends and family if we haven't talked in awhile (a month or more).

Clearly, I am not really a phone person. It has to do with the ambiguity and uncertainty and the lack of visual cues to tell me when silence is awkward or if there is more conversation to be had...I just can't tell!

When I'm talking with my good friends and family, though, all conversations end the same way:

(quickly) Love you! Bye! Click.

It's habit to say I love you. A good habit, I think.

But I am constantly fearful that these words will jump over my tongue and out my lips before I can stop them, that before I can yell, NO, WAIT! I TAKE IT BACK! there will be the click of death, and I'll be left in silence, staring at a phone, realizing I inadvertently told a stranger or my boss or a male acquaintance something they were not prepared to hear.

October 29, 2010

This Week, Her Boy Adds His Wit (Round 18)

me: I should be invisible. (pause) Oh wait, I already am.
her: Just like Clay Aiken! (softly, crooning) I love Clay Aiken...

her: Computer; I like swearing sometimes. It's coming, just to warn you.

her: I've always believed that broken food has no calories.

me: That guy is a FOUNT of ideas!
her: A fount of childlabour!

me: I loved that movie. I thought he was dreamy.
her: I know. His EYEBALLS!

her: By eleven, the guys will all be buzzed and you'll look fine.

her boy: Just think of how much easier your life will be once your Facebook status is "in a relationship!"
her: Yeah! You should change it!
me: But I'm not dating anyone...
her: Fake it til you make it!

her: I didn't really have time to figure out if I liked him or not. He was just straightforward, and it happened.
her boy: Yes! Blitzkrieg dating!

(back-track here)

October 26, 2010


Earlier this month, Jess suggested I take part in NaNoWriMo.

I laughed.
Then I thought about it for 12 hours and said, Sure!
Then I started recruiting other people to join. If I can do it, working 50 hours a week, so can you!

People have begun asking me, What's your plan?

Plan? I asked myself, I need a plan if I want to write a novel in a month?

So now I need a plan.*

*I at least have an idea for the story. I was telling Amelia last night that I haven't decided on what big crisis will kick-start everything, and she said, "I think she should be dying."

"No," I said, my nose wrinkled, "because then I already know how it ends."
"How?" she asked.
"She dies," I said, "obviously."
"Unless..." she suggested slowly, "it's Star Trek."

She looked startled, surprised by herself, "Oh my gosh. 2008 Amelia would never have even thought that."

October 25, 2010

I need to purge some text messages from my phone.

I have roughly 40 texts of songs that I am supposed to check out from one delightful friend, who is one of the most all-around attractive packages (I mean, people) that I know.

And then there are the assorted random thoughts and pieces of conversation that make me smile each time I re-read them. They include:


You have assumed correctly and you smell fine.

I just had a dream that you and I were attending Dartmouth University...It was awesome. The men were awesome...and totally digging us. Also, the dessert selection was sweet and so was the library.

OK, Puddles, where you is?

I guessed.

And the actual answer to your question is that my face is jorpis but good.

modern family #reallifenottheshow

How was it, charmster?

It's ok to be slow

I have now officially had an accident while driving and texting: calling you a guy. You know I would never do that on purpose.

Hey! I had this dream last night that we were driving to ultimate and we decided we were going to borrow a tiny Mini Cooper convertible to drive instead of my car. We took it and then turned around because I thought it was too much like stealing! Miss you. Lol.

Your niece has the bluest eyes of life. This is important.

Beth...I think I might be a flirt!!

I like you. Do you like me?

Yay! Dream dream dream! We're too young to not live!!

Just wanted to put those out there. I think it's funny that I have two texts about dreams I was in. My friends are great.

October 24, 2010

Tiny Changes Take Time

This evening, I spent roughly four hours* making minute (my-nyoot, not min-it) changes to this blog. Most of you won't notice them, since you're reading this in your RSS feed/aggregator/etc. Which I recommend for the rest of you (*cough* Mom-and-Sarah *cough*).

The only change worth pointing out is that I added a page called The Back Cover that talks a bit about myself & this blog, and links to some of my favourite entries through the years.

In the new year, you should expect to see some far more drastic changes here...I'm so excited for next year. And not just because my blog will be so much better.

*okay, actually, I spent most of the time reading old entries, reminiscing and smiling and cringing. It was great.

October 23, 2010

One Art

I've had a tab open in my browser for weeks now to remind me to do a little research on Elizabeth Bishop. I first heard of her through a poem she wrote that was referenced in In Her Shoes (starring Cameron Diaz and Toni Collette).

Anyway, the poem gripped me. So here it is. I won't make any comment on it, although it seems I like American poets from the first half of the 20th century.

One Art
 The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

October 21, 2010

Someone Started Writing About Underwear This Week (Round 17)

Nadine's wit was so extensive this week that I saved a few for a rainy day. Eventually there will be a week where she says nothing worth repeating. But her reputation will remain intact, thanks to my blog and my foresight. (Here's some hindsight, if you are new to this series). 

(plunging her hands into a sink of dishes)
her: I mixed dish soaps. This might kill me.

her: It was the most gorgeous wedding I've ever been to in my life. And it was in Scarborough, which makes no sense.

her: And then I look at myself and think, I'm one of those disgusting boys who wears underwear with holes in it! But it's outerwear.

her: If my last name were Virgin, I would name my daughter Sexy.

her: Okay. I feel like priority number one is putting on pajamas.

her: I think my middle finger is losing weight.
me: What? From overuse?
her: No, that would be you.

her: This band is missing the Susan Doyle factor.

her: You need a swooper.

her: Vegan, cruelty free panties...aren't they all vegan? Who wears panties made of beef jerky?

her: The booty-panty, I believe...my two favourite words!

October 19, 2010

The ROM, The Earth & Procreation

Disclaimer: This post is intended to generate discussion and a sharing of many opinions. It is NOT intended to judge or condemn anyone's life choices.

I had an unexpected moment at the ROM last month. C and I were listening to a presentation for kids on wildlife conservation (or rather, I was listening, and C was eagerly anticipating what live animal would come out next), when a statement caught my attention and still hasn't let go.

For most of history, the earth could provide enough resources for the earth's human population. But today, our population is growing rapidly, increasing by 250 000 people every day... Forty years from now, it will require 2 Earths to provide sustainably for our survival as a human species. But we only have 1 Earth.

250 000 people.
Every day.
That is roughly twice the size of my hometown.
In one day.

So I did a little math.
(First, I rounded down to 200 000, just in case the figures were inflated or failed to account for some sort of population decrease, like infant mortality.)

The results for our annual growth as a species is astounding.

In one year, the Earth's population grows by 73 million people.
That is 2 Canadas.
In one year.

This calculation was the premise for a surprising question to myself:
Is it selfless and right to assume that I should and will have children?

I have never before considered that if I marry and am able to have children, I would choose not to. But why is child-bearing the assumption? I thought of a few reasons.

  1. It's been this way for as long as humans have been around...if you're having sex, you're gonna end up with kids.
  2. There is something profound and beautiful about carrying a life inside of you, and it's the unique power of a woman to do so.
  3. Historically, carrying on one's lineage has had a significant urgency to it.
  4. In church-going circles, there is a strong belief in the God-given command to “be fruitful and multiply.” I think this is connected to an obvious “easy” way to spread and expand the church-going community.
  5. Aren't we all a little curious about what our offspring will look like, how we'll combine genes with the love-of-our-life to produce the most adorable things on two legs?
  6. More seriously, a child can be seen as the literal result and expression of a couples' love for each other. It is two-become-one in the flesh.

So why would I rethink this expression-of-love and religious-obedience?
Because I realized there are more factors to consider.

In the same breath as the be fruitful-and-multiply command, there is a command to rule over (and therefore care for) the earth and all its other inhabitants. Although we have historically acted like it, I don't think that the command to multiply trumps the command to care for the earth.

I'm afraid to admit my left-wing leanings (not that this will come as a shocker to most of you), but I'm a firm believer in creation-care. I'm trying to integrate this more intentionally into my life. I choose not to own a car. I make a conscious effort to purchase “green” cleaning products. I reduce, reuse, recycle. I buy organic or when I can. Little, easy things. But if I value this earth the way God originally intended, how radically would my lifestyle shift?

I have thought often about this, but before the ROM, it never touched on my family-planning (not that I'm planning a family, per se – more my family assumptions).

Now I have to ask myself -
  • Is it fair, is it right to add to the exponential growth of our species, arguably one of the most dangerous trends of our time (because it is the basis for all the humanity-related woes and dangers)?
  • Do I assume I will bear children someday because I feel confident it is what God wants for me, or because culturally, it is my right/duty/joy?
  • In today's culture, as one of the world's most affluent people, what does it look like to seriously consider the call to rule the earth? What about the command to take care of orphans and widows?

(kindly, please)

October 18, 2010

Mondays are Fundays: Literal Videos

Nadine has told me many times that I need to watch the "literal version" of the music video for Total Eclipse of the Heart. I didn't understand what she meant. So I didn't watch it. Until this weekend. Then I went on a "literal video" binge.

These are my favourite three. (I must say that several of the ones I wanted to see most couldn't be seen because I live in Canada, and Sony BMG blocks content in my region. Boo, Sony BMG.)

Warning: some lyrics may be offensive.

October 17, 2010

From Luxury to Necessity: A Weekend Recap

This weekend, I have felt things keenly.

Yesterday, it was a visit to Bluebird, and a conversation with a woman who has recently made her artistic endeavours her livelihood. We had a great chat about life and art. I wanted to buy out the store.

In the evening, I felt exhaustion come over me like a wave. Emotional, mental exhaustion. So I caught up on The Mentalist (and nearly cried, but that is a whole other topic) and went to bed.

This morning, I read a blog entry from the mother of a family I have never met, but am fascinated by (and slightly in awe of). She is asking many of the same questions that have been rattling around in my mind lately, despite our geographical, generational, and general differences.

I don't usually get teary-eyed at church. Today, I teared up no less than three times. Once was a photo and a song. Once was a story about death. And once was the beauty of rescue and redemption.

During an afternoon wander through The Distillery District galleries, I struck up a conversation with an employee about light and colour and serenity in a series of portraits. It was beautiful to talk about it all, even if I am untrained in the visual arts.

Just around the corner, I looked into an Art Market booth and recognized a print I'd nearly bought at Bluebird. A brief conversation with the artist made me decide to purchase work from her in the near future.

I craved time and space to create today. It didn't happen, which left me a little sad. But I know that it will happen. The more I expose myself to art, the more deeply it moves me and the more convinced I am that it is not a luxury, but a necessity in my life.

Two other necessities in my life that I used to consider luxuries:
1. "downtime/space/alone time" - whatever you want to call it. I need an afternoon or an evening free from tasks and free from company every week.
2. massage therapy. It has changed my life...literally. I need to find someone here in Toronto who will keep my body in better shape than I can.

These three artists are among those on display in the Distillery.
Go and look and be moved.
(Take me along, if you'd like.)
Nava Waxman
Tadeusz Biernot
and Marie-Josee Roy

October 16, 2010

"A Ghanadian Affair"

My friend (and former boss) Dorrie got married last month.
In Ghana.

Today at brunch, she showed me this video, a filmmaker-friend's proposal to the NFB of Canada for a documentary based on her romance with Eric.

Not only are the filmography and people in this film beautiful, but I think the story will continue to be incredible and exciting and honest.
So excited to see it unfold.

So hopeful they'll get to live in the same country (on the same continent) soon.

October 14, 2010

Like a Lynx With a Perm (round 16)

This week, from Nadine (last week from Nadine):

her: I want a baby to dress up!

her: What would be frustrating for me, if I were to break up with you, is that...
me: Wait. What?

trying to figure out who plays Ryan Howard, The Office's "Temp."
her: I think it's Ryan something...
me: Yeah, that sounds right. I'll look it up.... Oh, nope. it's BJ Novak.
her: But I believe it's BJ "Ryan" Novak... 

half-watching America's Next Top Model
her: I want Tyra's hair. It's amazing.
me: I think you'd look weird with her hair.
her: I think I'd look hot. Like a lynx with a perm.

on the church small group I'm planning to attend for the first time
me: I think their "young adults" is up to 35? Not really sure. All the people I've met who attend are young professionals.
her: Oh, so you're not just meeting your future husband. You're also meeting your peers.

on this Sesame Street clip:
her: Sometimes I feel sorry for kids, cause they can't understand how awesome it is!

me: some sort of comment about her boy
her : Yeah, well....(relevant comment about her boy)
me: (not actually listening, thinking about me again) OOOOOOOOOH, I'm SO excited!
her: What?!
me: I'm just really happy to be home for the evening. Maybe I got carried away?
her: Oh. I thought you were still talking about the boy - I was going to say, I hope you're okay with wanting what you can't have!
me: Ah, well, I am used to that.

October 12, 2010

What To Wear To See The Pope

My taste in literature is like my taste in music - varied and eclectic. So after reading Dharma Bums, I read What to Wear to See the Pope by Christine Lehrer. The two books could not be more different, and my reasons for enjoying them couldn't be either. I did, however, think in regard to both of them, I would rather read a well-written book whose content/philosophy I disagree with, than a poorly written piece whose morals or worldview I would endorse

This book taught me US history (I'm ready for you, Jeopardy!!):
James Polk, as you may recall, became president in 1845, and it was during his tenure that we won the Mexican-American War and thus acquired California, Texas, Colorado, Utah, Arizona New Mexico, Wyoming, and Nevada, without which, if you think about it, we would have no movie industry, no avocados, no surfing, no powder skiing, no cactus gardens, no Walt Disney, and no dude ranches. There would be no illegal immigrants in LA, and Mexico would have Olympic skiers. It seems fairly clear why the shipping company would name a liner for Polk, rather than Millard Fillmore or Grover Cleveland, for instance.

And reminded me of the beautiful reality of family:
When the telephone rang Olivier picked it up and I immediately knew we were about to plummet down the long chute of regression into stupid jokes we found funny as children. This was a hazard of spending time with siblings, and one of the best reasons for ensuring that familial visits be spent in private; it was also an excellent way to infuriate, alienate, and even disgust one's in-laws. Which was not always a bad idea.

"Right you are, Sweetness, because that is what we do, this family. We tell the same jokes, and pick the same fights. It's the only way we can tell we love each other."

And made me laugh at the dramatics of domestic life:
"Because it's the best knife. I need it," Gus said.
"I hate that knife," I said. I used to think it was a good knife, but I have changed my mind. That knife is a deadly weapon. It's taken on some evil personality all its own, like some teenage horror movie. I now regard that knife as the Quisling, the Malinche, the Judas Iscariot, the Benedict Arnold, the Kim Philby of knives."
"But it's the only decently sharp knife we have."
I started sniffling. "Are you listening? I can't live in the same house with that knife anymore. That knife has turned against me - me, who has kept it and used it and washed it probably thousands of times. I regard that as betrayal, or worse."
"What is worse than that?"

October 10, 2010

Among Other Things...

I'm thankful for my fantastic extended family, for my camera, for sunshine, and for cuteness.

I Want To Remember These Nights

Had a lovely day in the hometown. Hung out with my parents and a couple of friends.

My parents always make me roll my eyes and they always make me laugh and they always make me smile because I love them. I think that is the right combination for family.

Coffee date tonight confirmed that there is hope. It can be tender and fragile, but it is beautiful. When the future is anticipated instead of feared, that is a very good thing.

Post-coffee date tonight reminded me of why Heather is my longest-standing friend (we have the advantage of being introduced by our mothers when we were mere babes). Tonight, she was thrilled that I told her she'd make it on my blog for the following story:

Scene - her boyfriend greets her with an Iced Cappucino from Tim Hortons and suggests they go for a walk.

"I knew something big was coming; I just didn't know what. Then he broke up with me...I looked at my Iced Cap and thought, You are no longer a neutral stimulus but a conditioned reinforcer of pain."

My first thought at the telling of her story: Really? He breaks up with you and your first thought is how he's ruined Iced Caps for you? Wow. You must have really loved them...

From here on out, I will now refer to Iced Caps as Conditioned Reinforcers of Pain.

"Hey, it's hot out. I think we need some Pain Reinforcement."
"Man, I'm tired. Let's go grab some Conditioned Reinforcers."
"You know what I'm craving today? One of those Conditioned Pain drinks..."

Seriously, though. I love Heather. Love laughing with her. Love reliving the highs and the lows (we also listened to Josh Groban and discussed our decorating strategy for our university apartment...). Love thinking about where we'll be in ten years.

So much love.

Which is fitting, because it's Thanksgiving weekend.

October 8, 2010

A Meal, A Video, A Painting, A Night

Last night I had dinner with the ever-lovely Katie V. I have every intention of stealing her recipe for our meal. All of my favourite things were together - mango, lime, cilantro, honey, chicken, brie...need I go on?

After dinner, we pulled out her brand-new-and-inexpensive watercolour set to do a little painting. Neither of us are particularly artistic, but she was inspired by this video to make some fun art*:

It was FUN. I like 2/3 of my painting, which is better than I'd hoped for. I want to take some art classes. I'd like to be able to draw. Or paint. I dislike my artistic incompetencies.

On the fun side, Katie and I always have great (and often entertaining) conversations:

Her: This is hard! I actually have to touch every place I want there to be colour. Whatever happened to click and fill?
Me: Ha! That is going on my blog.
Her: Yes! Mission accomplished for the evening.

Then we went for ice cream; all the sunshine demanded it. I LOVE ICE CREAM. Frozen yogourt, if you want to be precise about last night. I don't know why I can't get enough, but even when I'm freezing cold, I just can't say no.

*I am inspired by the poetry of this short film.
I feel about walks the way she feels about biking. It's my think-time.
And I'm becoming increasingly green. At least, ideologically.

The point of this post is a shout-out to Katie. And to prepare you for more enviro-friendly ranting and rambling from yours truly.

October 7, 2010

I'm Not The Only One Keeping Lists (round 15)

Nadine is finally getting out of the house - she's got a temporary job in the media field at an office (wooooot! I feel so proud of her). Hopefully we still have time to hang out, or the world will miss out on gems like these (or any of these):

her: Wine, ice cream, and figure-skating hockey players are all I need to be happy.

(on the Etobicokean-born actress currently in bed with Sealy Booth - aka David Boreanaz)
her: As a one time aspiring actress, I have no objections to that role.

her: I'd always choose spooning over bathing.

me: Blah, blah, blah, blah, something about being single, blah, blah, blah, blah.
her: (sympathetically) I wrestled with that for twenty-six and a half years.

(jumping into a conversation in progress)
friend: Who are you related to?
her: My dad.

her: Every time you annoy me, I write it down.

Who Are You - Marie Antoinette??

Talking poverty with an affluent 3 year-old can be difficult.

Me: Some people don't have very much money, so they don't have a house.
C: Yes. That's why they have cottages.

Other ridiculous moment of the day - holding the hands of two 3 year-old boys, waiting to cross the street. One starts singing Waving Flag by K'naan. The other joins in.

October 5, 2010

Dharma Bums

In the past few weeks, I've been reading The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac. I finally finished on Sunday afternoon, just before a lovely nap.

Last night, a friend didn't know of/couldn't pronounce Kerouac, who came up unbidden in our conversation. One girl commented that On the Road felt decidedly masculine to her. As I thought about it, I would say the same thing about TDB. It's a man-boy's mystic philosophic/religious meanderings. I wanted insight into the narrator's present perspective - he makes it clear that he is reminiscing, and many of his thoughts/attitudes on life have changed...but we never find out what or how. At first, I didn't think it was the best intro to The Beat Poets, but now I'm not sure. I don't know if I like them all that much. (TBD at a later date)

That said, there are some great quotes:

Colleges being nothing but grooming schools for the middle-class non-identity which usually finds its perfect expression on the outskirts of the campus in rows of well-to-do houses with lawns and television sets in each living room with everybody looking at the same thing and thinking the same thing at the same time while the Japhies of the world go prowling in the wilderness to hear the voice crying in the wilderness, to find the ecstasy of the stars, to find the mysterious secret of the origin of faceless wonderless crapulous civilization.
(as if the word "crapulous" existed in 1958!!!)

I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify (by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling. Ecstasy, even, I felt, with flashes of sudden remembrance, and feeling sweaty and drowsy I felt like sleeping and dreaming in the grass.

That is precisely how I feel in the woods.

October 3, 2010

A Small Miscellany

Fact: I have a loud laugh (as well as a wheezy laugh my family affectionately calls "the guinea pig"). I am also a jumpy person, and get very emotionally invested in movies. When watching a movie in the theatre, it is a money-back guarantee that I will laugh out loud or gasp audibly at least once. This usually occurs at a moment when precisely 0 other people in the theatre are making noise. I find this both awkward and hilarious. I have come to terms with the reality of my movie-watching uniqueness, but do feel the need to warn new friends when we make movie plans. Just in case they embarrass easily.

Sometimes I cuss. I started swearing after I started working for a Christian organization. (Yes, I've over-analyzed that correlation). I still take profanity seriously though, and have extensive thoughts on the matter. In my mind, there are words and contexts that are never appropriate, and there are other words and contexts which are understandable/allowable. There are also a few words and contexts that I find hilarious. In the past few weeks (months?), however, I have found that strong language is in my mind much more frequently than I'm comfortable with. I would like this to change.

Another thing I've noticed in the last few months is that my processing speed has slowed down. As I think about all sorts of things, it feels like it takes me a looooooooooong time to identify thoughts/feelings and come to conclusions. But when I do, I have much more confidence and certainty in them than I did a few years ago. So it's a pay-off I'm willing to take.

Near my apartment, there are a few storefronts that seem to be used as apartments. I've seen this in a few places around the city, and am (as always), incredibly curious about it. I think it would be a kind of sweet "loft" experience. Talk about open-concept! But I can never peek in, because there is always paper or cloth completely covering the windows. I've decided that my next apartment (in the distant hypothetical future) will be a storefront. And I will not put paper over the windows. Instead, I will have room divider/portable walls set up a few feet back. This will allow for two wonderful realities: natural light and my own personal gallery. I'll use the storefront windows as gallery space for art & creative projects from all sorts of friends, changing on a regular, perhaps bi-weekly, basis. People will learn of it and walk out of their way to come by and check out the display at my home.*

*now that I've publicized the idea, I am also calling dibs on it. You can't steal this without giving me credit. Or inviting me to display something.

October 1, 2010

The Reality TV Version of Touched By An Angel (Round 14)

Sorry it's a day later than usual. If any of you noticed, I applaud you. Last week we were on our game. This week feels less impressive. Nadine and I have both been fighting colds , so I blame illness for any problems that may have occurred.

"I can't look at them anymore. Men with botox freak me out."

her: "He's redeemed the name __________ for me by being a cute little redhead kid."

me: "Dangit, Extreme Home Makeover. You get me every time!"
her: "I feel like this is the reality TV version of Touched By An Angel. That show used to kill me!"

(stretching in the morning)
me: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm-uh.
her: I second that.

(jay-walking at midnight, no cars for two blocks)
her: Idon'twannadie, Idon'twannadie, Idon'twannadie!

me: Night, Nadine. I like talking with you.
her: Me too. We should be friends more often.

me: There's a bug in your hair. Let me grab it.
her: See, that is a sign of adulthood.
me: What, that I took the bug out of your hair instead of saying nothing and letting it wander around?
her: No. That there was a bug in my hair and I didn't scream.

me: I'm sorry if I made things awkward with The Boy because of my comments.
her: It's okay. He knows we aren't having sex.

her: I would rather make lunch for Hanson than listen to Justin Bieber...there's something about Justin's voice...it's too weak for me. I can't connect to it e-mo-tion-al-ly (in long drawn out tones).

Wake Up!

September is over. According to the Green Day song, now is the time to wake up.

Let's agree to wake up now. Before life is over.


Yesterday, I had the following conversation with a friend:
me - Your email has had me dreaming all day."
her - "Yay! Dream dream dream! We're too young to not live!"

(Despite my love for the American Idiot album, I cannot own it. I have immense respect for the artistic talent and cultural insight it embodies. I have said this before. Four years ago, in fact. But listening to this album with any regularity sends me into a downward spiral of hopelessness.)