...bringing it live...

I tried to think back to what I was doing at 13. Honestly, it wasn't much. I was into piano, competed a lot locally, never farther than Pickering. School, friends, family bowling? I don't know. It really wasn't much.

My cousin is 13 now and she is so much cooler than I ever was. This past week, her high school robotics team (did any of your schools hav a robotics team?!) went to the semi-finals of the FIRST robotics competition in Waterloo and won. Now, they are on their way to Atlanta for the Nationals. Unbelievable. I'm so in awe.

...where my phenazo yo?!...

I do not NEED this when I'm trying to write a paper.


OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW!

...things that make you go "hmm"...

What will join a list of utterly bizarre experiences, the following: stumbling on the random blog of a fellow Torontonienne and discovering that we share (in addition to a love of kitties and the Pumpkins-formerly) an ex-boyfriend. The kind of ex-boyfriend who was a "boyfriend" to neither of us, and a nasty rebound to both. I'm now completely fascinated by this girl - two years older than me, two years cooler - and am channeling all my will power into avoiding reading her entire livejournal life, and directing it instead to the 15 page paper, not yet written, due on Monday.

...oh! yes! everything's just wonderful...

Anyone want to place a bet on how many times Heather Phares can re-use the term "omnivorous musical tastes" in a music review?

...one moon in the sky...

They asked us this week whether there is room in the future for chivalry, or whether we have outgrown it, as a society. We the people responded (9:1) that of course, there is room for chivalry. I do believe that, honestly, who doesn't want that? But the examples they gave were more "considerations", so rare in the here and now that they have been elevated to the level of chivalry.

Chivalry is a dream, and of course we don't want to lose that in the future. But let's take considerations, not as chivalry, but as they are - thinking of somebody else, small actions to make a difference. I wish people in their day-to-day would give more thought to each other. When you are considerate of someone else, it does wonders for their self-esteem. It almost takes more effort to be considerate simply because it is so easily overlooked. So when people do show they are thinking of you, you feel so much better as a person.

Yesterday I was walking towards the subway carrying a large package. A man who wasn't even intending to go into the subway noticed I was heading there, and turned slightly out of his way to open the door for me because my hands were full! Can you even imagine that? In Toronto, after rush hour?

Then today (and it was a bad day today) I'm studying in the coffee shop before work. I'm sick and brainhurty, but enjoying a couple hours of sitting still without feeling topple-y. My boss comes in to say hi and see what I'm working on, then as he's leaving, without saying anything to me, calls to the ladies "Yo guys, give this one whatever she wants, take care of her". You can tell the ladies are floored, but I'm thrilled without being stunned surprised. He does the consideration thing well and often. I didn't actually get the coffee, as it happens. Today was not a day to be putting coffee in me (though I was sick enough after, anyway). But that isn't even the point, you know?

And then (because in threes is how we do things) my girlfriend stopped by with a care package of tea and trail mix, with the cashews taken out (hate them) and extra raisins! So in the end, I don't know. Maybe not so much a bad day after all.

...customizing the experience...

Beck: My sister just joined facebook. What do I do? She's going to see... everything.
Me: Don't add her?
Beck: No, I can't do that. She's my sister.
Me: Talk to her first, then don't add her?
Beck: What would I say?
Me: Say "I love you, but my private space is my private space... in public... on the internet... for all the world to see".

...you sometimes need really special shoes...

Instead of lying in bed worrying about the world ending, and papers failing, and people leaving me (or worse, never coming to me) I'm sitting on the Green Couch with bought-today ice cream and a Lindor. Over MSN we are discussing men and perfect on papers, trying to find a magical formula to determine at what point one should cut losses, and Settle. Ever?

Sometimes I settle for the not-so-fitted jeans on the sale rack, but I can throw those away after a season. You know what I'm saying?

...why we don't play for real money...

In my dream, He Loved me and that is all it was about. In my dream Engels had bangs; came up to me, took my face in his hands and said "You are a lucky girl. This is a good man who loves you, this is what matters", I thought yes, this is what matters.

Then I rushed quickly through the mall trying to find a better dress to wear with my gold shoes to that night's dream-vague event. Maybe what I was wearing wasn't nice enough, now I had someone to impress. I spurned a customer on my way out, and was arrested by Leo and Jennifer Love Hewitt as I entered Club Monaco, loosened my scarf. As the "police" led me away I thought to myself, this is what happens when you think Love necessitates Commercial Acquisition. Love only needs itself (and "in another place, not here"). Engels did try to tell me...

I waited in the pen, nervous, wondering will He come, will He come? He did in a fashion: with forceful steps, a 5'0" bodyguard and an umbrella, He walked right past me. To help me, my dream voice said internally, to talk to the powers that be and get me out. But still, He walked right past me. And I woke up thinking, I guess it doesn't matter after all.

...keeping you a secret...

Sophie Kinsella tonight, and oh my goodness is she ever lovely. Purple print wrap dress, and gorgeous sixties brown boots. Rectangle-cut turquoise ring (gift from husband she says) is stunning. And nice! So nice! Funny and comfortable, and so relaxed. I love her to pieces.

Talks about a recent trip to Los Angeles and seeing Sandra Bullock. She wants to ask if she can be her best friend forever, and decides against it; admires Sandra from afar. I think to myself, "I wonder if that means she's in the market for a new best friend"...

...kuzu kuzu...

By noon today I had decided it was a fluke or a conspiracy, some computer program (government initiated, perhaps) collecting random writing samples and reproducing them for its own neferious purposes. Strangely, I was more comfortable with this scenario than with the idea that some "20-year old Torontonienne" was deliberately selecting and modifying our work and words, fitting them into her constructed, imagined life. For one thing, the latter would imply a much closer attention to what we say and do than I am happy with. Closer both in the sense of focus on our lives, and in the sense of proximity. In the end, a government agent learning I'm romantically apolitical and fascinated by (of all things) Starbucks culture doesn't really affect me so much. But a potential local crazy? Toronto is not so very large.

After all, recounting to Bumble B. my stupendous discovery, showing her the first-page photo, she recognized the one in the middle as a friend of her boyfriend's, currently in school in London-O, whatever does this mean-o? It means everything is illuminated upon his reply to our email.

All the worlds are smaller, these days.

...weekdays are a mystery...

If I were my keys, law notes, and Lucky Flow Pen where would I be?

...the last words kitty ever heard...

A list of grievances, because it's a Thursday blizzard night with lightning, and I am snowed in, in the suburbs, and so am entitled;

i) As it turns out, so Rob tells me, the Duke of Gloucester has a website and also a message board. I visited, though aware that to do so would take my attachment to this bar to an entirely unreasonable level. Nonetheless, I visited and found a forum sparsely attended (give it time, the site is new) and yet, there were several messages from this one girl. All of them complaints of some kind. The trivia is bad, the staff is rude, the food isn't good... each one in a different thread. And I think to myself, if all you have to say about this bar is negative, you are spending a disproportionate amount of energy on this website.

I also consider "holla"-ing back, letting it be known you can't just go around dissing other people's bars. But then I think, this girl might be bigger than me. Or something.

ii) I don't speak Turkish! This is making it more challenging (but not impossible) to enjoy the music of Tarkan, who is my new heart. And the dancing! I've spent the last hour belly dancing around my living room barefoot in pjs, but with my sequened wrap (one must always have the sequined wrap). I sort of want a tambourine. To supplement the dance. Another grievance, no tambourine.

iii) Maggie-girl and I had shared bemoaning earlier; lack of fun, lack of men, lack of... and I could not give her bemoaning any credibility. One does not bemoan the lack of men when one has a man waiting for you in London, less than 2 hours away! In tight jeans! It just isn't done.

iv) Did I mention I was snowed in? I think that counts as a grievance. I have places I could be. Like a Swig Newton party, with vanilla vodka.