...politically incorrect, mildly uncomfortable...
It's been nice. Have a good one.
a writing exercise. a window. a handshake, an embrace. wide glimpse of the small moments.
I am leaving I promise. Ish. But I needed to add one last thing in response to S's comment about Persian moms and short hair. Do ALL mothers of curly-haired Persian girls tell them short hair is the devil, and is so hard to handle? Why is that? Is that some conspiracy to keep all the Persian women with long luxorious hair to attract the attentions of eligible husbands-to-be? That would be just the kind of thing for them to do.
Things you shouldn't spring on me as I'm falling asleep, sometime in the middle of the night include the fact that you don't want children. The up side to this having been broached is that you're thinking long term, and I'm a feature attraction in that long term. The down side is that you don't want children.
Hurrah!
I'm a big fan of having classes with your friends. So far:
First class of the day, first day of the year and two rows in front of me sits Philosophy Ben in all his blond glory.
Talking with Kate about the nature of friendships, the changeables and the constants. She wonders whether some friendships are just for moving on from -
Oh that Ian Brown, so pretty and voice-lovely. He makes me feel fantastic. I think most Ian's are lovely - one of my favorite managers at work is Ian. He, too, is lovely. And good at scaring the crazy people away when they decide to chat with me for 20 minutes about lord knows what, telling you how much they love your store and the people in it.
Tuesday morning after Labour Day and we all know what that means - back to school. On the subway, my route mirrors that of the students of Cardinal Carter Academy and I watched them along 5 stops, in their matching kilts and white shirts, navy pants and black sneakers. Ella is starting high school for the first time today, and has a baby blue Roots backpack to show for it. James, sitting across from her, gushes about having gym first period, and tells her "I'm nervous for you!". Listening in, I am unbearably nostalgic and long to be relive a first day of high school, with the smelly lockers, jaded teachers, and crisp new school supplies.
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As I watch the deteriorating situation in New Orleans day after day, I can't help but think how this tragedy has brought out the best in only a few, the worst in too many others. When I read the following excerpt in The Toronto Star about police officers in the area, I was furious. I have a great deal of respect for public workers, especially officers - it upsets me that so many officers are ready to so casually free themselves of the public's faith in and expectations of them. I can understand that police officers from New Orleans are now as desolate as the citizens they are meant to protect, but there is absolutely no justification for a uniformed officer to act so selfishly and offensively.
For the reason that I am poor, I am requesting all manner of budgeting tips for spend-happy me.