In some ways I am very traditional person, but maybe not in ways you’d expect. As much of a pragmatist as I can sometimes be, I’m also still a romantic; as serious as I can be, so can I be just as silly; and as adult as I might appear, I can be equally child-like. This means that come Christmas time, I still like “From Santa” written on some of my presents’ tags,...
Let's go to the hop
The other day I was reminded of something I’d almost forgotten: simplicity. I’d gone over to my grandmother’s to grab something to eat, but she was just leaving to go visit a friend as I got there, so I was alone. I grabbed a tape from the pile next to her ghetto blaster, popped it in, hit play, and began dancing around her livingroom. It’s some compilation tape she has,...
The radio is my best friend, and worst enemy. It has a habit of knowing just the right song, or just the wrong one, to play, at just the right or wrong moment. It’s either very empathetic, psychic, or it’s spying on me. Someone’s going to say it’s merely coincidental, but I prefer to think there’s some magic working here, that I’ve yet to fathom the nature of....
Last night I dreampt that there had been an assasination. People huddled in groups in large foyers, people walking about sombre and whispering. No one would tell me what was going on. No one would even look at me without a sneer. Somehow, somehow I did not deserve to know. I began walking. I walked long barren streets with dustbowl deserts on either side. I passed fruitstands with shrivelled up...
How proud we were as children, to bring mother a bouquet of butter flowers. We thought them flowers, everyone else called them weeds, then years later we find out that you can actually eat dandelions leaves; and the huge ewww that ensued right after. You could tell if someone liked butter, by holding the flower under your chin; if it glowed, if you could see the reflection in your perfect child...
In 1972 one Ms. Linda P. lost her wallet at the University Of New Brunswick library. She got it back, sans money, about five days ago (it had been thrown up into a false ceiling). What an interesting unintentional time-capsule that must have been; to see old university id cards, long ago expired coupons from McDonalds, and a photograph of an ex-boyfriend bearing the oh-so-fashionable muttonchop...
How we judge others
The dj on the radio was just reading out an email he’d received from a listener, that detailed how we can judge other people. As it was put, you can tell if someone’s a good/nice/etc. person by observing how they treat the people who are on the lowest rung of the ladder. The example that was given were people who work n restaurants. If you’re with someone who treats the maitre...
Half the time, when people say to me that they just aren’t creative (etc.), I think it’s more a case of mistaken perception. I bet, at least some of the time, it’s the mistaken notion that they have to make something, or create some sort of finished product. You don’t. Especially if you’re just doing it for therapy or fun, all you need to do is have the materials, and...
Dead Letter Office
I’ve always wanted to work in some postal outlet’s “dead letter office”. I recall the fascination of reading this one book, the title long since forgotten, and the sections of the book involving the two men working in a dead letter office. They would find money, secrets, and all manner of things, in the undeliverable mail of the world’s population. It’s a...