Summer storm strike

Today is one of those days when the air is thick with moisture, and the world is so humid it seems like the sky is pressing down on you. The sun is strong but looks watery, and also seems to be doing it’s best to lay itself directly on your shoulders.
When the afternoon is getting tired, the sky, in that strange way it has in summer, gets bluer and greyer by degrees, storm clouds gathering disguised as clear air, so the sky itself seems to be thickening.
Then comes that stretched-out moment, when the world gets still, when the wind dies down and even the plants seem to hold them selves stiff and ready, until the tension breaks, and the first, fat drops hurtle down.
Traveling along, the air gets thick with that smell particular to mid-summer; that sharp, hot smell of overheated asphalt sizzling in the rain. Then the rain pounds down into soft skin still warm from summer sun, instantly passing through layers of cloth, and clothes get heavy and clingy and seem so much a bother.
Ears ring from almost constant thunder, and laughter bubbles up in response, growling playfully back at the sky, trying to out-do each other.
Standing on the balcony above, looking down, goosebumps from unseen breaths of air ghosting across wet skin. There is so much rain beating the world that the air itself is dark with it, the treetops whipping through the wind like seaweed through rough waters.
Lightning strike, sudden and violent, breaks through the wind and rain and thick air of summer, hisses with power, heat and burning light like screaming, like rage, like prayer, pulses down, a fist pounding the earth, and the tree across the way shudders in its own weakness and succumbs, splitting jarringly, falls as though floating, struck and spent, to earth.

A long day

Hi all.
My class is spending the whole day in computers, so this might just turn itself into a monster blog.
Class is good, great, very challenging, and backbreaking in turns. This past month has been just as intense as the last one, and the upcoming week is going to be very busy. I think a lot of stress, frustration, and lack of sleep kind of came to a head yesterday. Basically, as much as we've been learning, and as great as it has been, a lot of us are still worrying about marks and working really hard on our assignments (a little too hard, we've been told, but it's hard to break the habit), and trying to juggle our time and our nerves is...hard. Yesterday a lot of people were feeling very frustrated and stressed, and I guess we kind of lost it a little.
Cynthia came in and we were talking about assignments and tests and things, and there was a lot of discussion about what we as the students need and what the teachers are doing and saying. Cynthia is really good at calming people down, and she's fantastic at explaining things, which I think helps a lot. The talk yesterday helped, but I think we maybe need more of those talks. I might suggest it to Cynthia, for the next class.
Part of what's taking up our time these days is extra stuff outside of class. Tonight is a wine and cheese for the Children's Writer's Class that we're invited to, and I want to go, but there is SO MUCH WORK to get home to (besides, I promised Mom I'd be home for dinner- she's making fish).
But you get the gist, with the busy and the crazy making.
There is one thing taking up my time this weekend that I'm so happy for, though. In I'm Telling You for the Last Time Jerry Seinfeld talks about hearing of Hallowe'en when he was a child;

"What? Someone's giving out candy, who is giving out candy?...EVERYONE WE KNOW is giving out candy?! Wah-I- I have got to be a part of this, I'll do anything they want- ...I can wear that!"

Now. Replace the word "candy" with "books", and you've got my EXACT attitude about the Canadian Book Expo, this sunday, to which I am most definitely going! (No, I don't have to dress up in costume, but if they wanted my left arm in payment, they could have it. (I need the right one- it's the one that writes and turns the pages).
I'm sure I'll have gushes to say about it after sunday.

Okay, and here's a little thing that will make you go "What?! Why in hell is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"
So, what happened? Well, I was at work last week, and there was about a half hour left until closing, and Melissa and I were getting antsy to go home, despite our low sales. So, when we got a 'high roller' in, who wanted to spend a pile, we were kind of stoked that our sales would go up. But these two guys came in, and they were all not-nice (to say the least), and they we're getting a very large pile together. The one guy kept wanting suggestions from me, saying "What do girls like, what do you like?" Everything I handed him just went in the pile- he didn't care what he was buying.
That was when Melissa and I started to get nervous. Those guys weren't acting right.
As soon as they were done, Melissa rang everything up, and it took her forever- they had over $1500 of stuff. When she told them their total, the guy pulled out a bunch of very obviously fake cards. She hesitated to take them, and the guy started muttering threats, so only we could hear. We were afraid, and there was no way to call security (there's no place hidden from view where I work, and no emergency button like there should be), so she ran the cards through. They were all accepted. Just before the guys took off, the one grabbed a handful of stuff from the bag and set it back on the desk, and said "Here, these are yours." so, what, we were getting paid off? Fat freaking chance! We locked the stuff in a drawer, closed ten minutes early, and ran home!
The next morning we'd calmed down and called head office and the police. Everyone said it wasn't our fault, and our jobs are safe and there's nothing for us to worry about. We still feel bad about it, but what can you do?
The only question is, what happens to the stuff they left behind? We're waiting for a decision from head office. I should find out saturday- I'll keep you all updated.
Meanwhile, I'm not as upset as I was. When it happened, I was like, "I don't like the big city anymore! I'm moving back to Sarnia!" Now...well, trust me, Sarnia is no an option. But I hate working in a freaking MALL! I'm fully looking forward to burying myself in the nice, safe world of publishing.

Oh! And I've recently confirmed that there is no more training or certification needed for publishing in other countries. When I finish this course I can get a job in Canada...or Britain, the States, Australia...ANYWHERE! Bah ha ha! World, you are my playground.

Yeah, this blog was a little random.

One thing I love

So, Laur's at my place and we're putting a frozen pizza in the oven, then going to turn on a movie. Mom's oven has no timer. Worried that we'll burn the place down, or at least be eating char for dinner, Laur asks how we'll remember that something's in the oven.
"I'll get Phil to let us know," I say, distracted with the putting of the pizza on the hot rack.
Laur is slient for a moment, then,
"How will a plant let us know when our pizza is ready?"


...


So, what do I love?
I love that my best friend not only knows that I have names for both my plant and the microwave, but that she knows which one is which.

Revel in Gore

"The world is full of beautiful stories...you're not going to hear any of those tonight."
So began the fabulously disgusting reading I went to last night, featuring CHUCK PALAHNIUK! I can't believe that fate had him in Toronto and doing that same reading about which I've been reading just a few days after I discovered it. Destiny looks after me again! (And, I love living in the big city.)
Let me start by saying that no one fainted. Apparently, Torontonians are a tough bunch. But residents of Calgary aren't- his publicist told the crowd during his intro that they'd lost no less than five people at the last reading. I'm vaguely disappointed that no one went down, especially since the author was obviously doing his best.
Let me explain; the reading occurred in Indigo, which is a big place, but could barely contain the four hundred (at least) people who crowded in. It was hot and cramped and there weren't any seats unless you got there two hours in advance.
He handed out air fresheners. He handed out three hundred meat-scented, steak-shaped air 'fresheners' that he insisted we open and swing around. Eew. REALLY.
He was a fantastic speaker who was extremely talented at taking hilarious, disgusting, sad and sadistic stories and never allowing his audience to see them as abstract in any way; he was very good at keeping a human face on his characters. He spoke (even before he started reading) about the sick things people did, and told him about. He spoke about a guy finding out he had HIV, a guy who took pictures of dead people, and teenagers who commit suicide by accident.
Then he started reading. He told "Guts". This is the story about which the article I linked was about, the story, apparently, that he had 'retired' in view of the reactions he was getting. I was thrilled when he announced it.
The story was just as gross as the rest of his talk. It was great.
The crowd was good, too. It was a very young, kind of anti-establishment type crowd- very rock.
He took questions after, though he'd already made a point of talking about the rediculous comments and questions he usually got. For instance, those people (in the States), who ask him "Do you want to come to our fight club?" To which he sarcastically responds; "Yeah, like what I really want is to do this, and then go get punched."
He got some great questions, but was also a clever enough speaker that he made what would normally be mundane answers into interresting responses. For instance, the question "What do you aim to do with your writing?" to which he answered, "I aim to amuse myself. [These readings are] like sex; I want you to be there and be quiet until I'm done."
He was funny, and he gave out prizes (other than the air fresheners). He had us rolling when he spoke about being scheduled for readings following Erin Rolston, who wrote his true story about being caught in a rockslide and having to amputate his own arm with a swiss army knife. This was funny because the prizes Chuck had were rubber severed arms, which the bookstore workers kept unpacking beforehand, and thinking it was all a very distasteful joke. LOL!
All in all- man, was that a good night! He was a great speaker, and I'm glad I went. And, since I'm sure you're wondering, no, I did not even get woozy. In fact, I think I was one of the few who were laughing at the parts that few others were finding funny. What can I say? My mind has sick depths which boggle even me...
I'll leave you with a last memorable comment by the author;

"How we digest our lives is by making stories out of them, and retelling until we wear them out. We write to control our stories, and not be controlled by them."

Stuttery whales in design class

Okay, so I'm in design class and trying not to sound like a kindergarten student; "Scott, the tail of my whale is all messed up...again..."
We're trying to make a book cover (a duplicate of the teacher's), for practice. We're supposed to be learning graphic design, but I (and I'm not alone here), kind of, well, suck at it.
It helps that what we're doing actually takes, like, years of study, but that only helps us feel better, not do any better. My whale keeps going all stuttery.
At least he still has fins, though, unlike those of some of my classmates.
We're an odd pod.
And on that jabberwockian note, I'm going to sign off...I don't think I'm terribly interresting today.

I've gotta read this!

I know I just blogged, but then I surfed, and check out what I came across.
Damn.
(Click the title for the link).

Call this a recap

So busy. *Sigh*
Okay, a quick recap (and I do mean quick) of the past weeks:

I saw a deer. In Toronto. And I wasn’t hallucinating, either- Eggroll saw it too.

I spent a great couple of days crashing at Laur’s and Hugh’s place. Fun, not long enough, and I (regretfully) had to flake on the last day, so many apologies to them, though honestly I had started to feel like I was neglecting the Mom by then, so it was with mixed feelings that I dragged my ass home. Especially since she was making me do work(!)

Class rocks. Finance is the bane of my existence, but I live for fieldtrips. We’ve been to House of Anansi, (small, independent, very metro-funky-chic), Random House (the hugest, very cool, money and power, baby!), and today, Goodman and Goodman law offices (literary and entertainment agents- very who’s-who, totally connected, impressive). The information is fascinating and plentiful, as are the perks! We keep getting food, stuff, BOOKS even, plus the use of these very corporate-cool boardrooms all day- I feel so professional in them. Random House and G&G were actually pretty similar, in looks, anyways, but some of my classmates said that that was where they felt the ‘belonged’, and I didn’t agree. Random House was just as corporate and professional and posh, but there was a different air about the place. No matter how corporate it was, they were still a bunch of book geeks like me. The lawyers weren’t. Passionate, given, which was great to encounter (the head guy we were talking with told us all about ‘nurturing’ his author clients), but it wasn’t just books for him (he handles others, like Kim Cattrall, which spins him once again into the realm of super coolness, but I digress).

Work is fine. I was down about it for a week or two there, but I think things are improving. They just hired a new girl who seems really nice, and having someone to depend on (or, more accurately, take advantage of), and give me a little slack will be awfully nice. I’m looking forward to having at least one day that I can CHOOSE what to do with, even if that does turn out to be things like homework and cleaning the house. At this point, so little that is needing to is actually getting done, that I’m actually relishing the idea of even getting to do that much.

I went to the doc this week- first time I’ve met her, and she’s nice, and now I’m getting an Epi pen (as in epinephrine, so’s as I don’t do that dying thing if I get stung by das bees). I’m glad to finally be getting one, not that I’m going to let down my guard or anything (hey, a 16/17 year record is not one I’m looking to break!), but seeing as there’s an apple orchard in the middle of my school campus, I thought it would be adviseable to have the escape route just in case. Clever me.

The family reunion is coming up. Totally looking forward to it, dying to see everyone and to talk to people…we do this a lot less often than we ought to. Mom has given me a deadline for getting my room together in anticipation of being invaded by Atos’s, and then there’s the not-so-subtle hint she gave me the other day; “We can start baking any day now, you know.” Maybe I’ll make some extras and take them to class- make me some friends.

Arrgh, what else?
I bought the new Coldplay CD today (X&Y). It’s friggin FANTASTIC. Seriously, people, go buy.

As for books, there’s nothing new up my sleeve; I’m back on my favourite drug- Harry Potter. In anticipation for the next big release (37 days, 4 hours, 31 minutes, 11 seconds as I write this), I have begun again. Going slowly- I’d like to say because I’m relishing them, but the truth is, I’m just struggling to squeeze in any decent reading time. I still plan to be done the fifth by the night before the new release, though. Determination!
I’m also happy to announce that my publishing class is just a wrapped up in this as I am! (Well, maybe not *quite* as much as I am, but it’s hard to reach my heights). (Yeah, even I ROFL at that one.)

In any case, there’s a dirty kitchen, a pile of homework, and a brand-spankin-new CD waiting for me- I’m out, folks. Talk to you all, sooner or later, though I have design class…tomorrow?.. maybe friday…one of those…blog then.

Design class again

Okay, so it's very pathetic that the only time I can find to blog is during breaks in my design class, which is sadly only once a week (I enjoy it so), but I'm tired of saying I'll blog more, blah blah blah.
So I won't.
Friday was awesome. Lauren was back in town, along with Kevin and Mark, and we all got together and went out for Indian food and watched movies and basically got as relaxed as possible. Much needed vegging occurred.
Saturday I worked, then sprang my frinds on my Mom (oops), and everyone crashed despite the best of intentions to watch all three Starwars movies.
Sunday, work again, then Michael, Mom, the brother and I went to Buffalo for shopping. That was fun, though I am ashamed to admit that I was actually out-shopped by my brother. He did VERY well indeed.
I did okay. There's always room for more shopping.
Speaking of which, my fingers are itching for the new Coldplay CD. Anyone heard it? It's the first thing other than a book that I've really wanted sinse I started this class.
Oh, and about books. Read 'The Time Traveler's Wife' By A-something Niffenegger (I think that's the name). VERY GOOD READ. (Mostly for the ladies, though).
Anyways, I've slipped, once again, into rambling mode, so despite the lack of usual or consistent updates, I'm logging off, folks. Hopefully I'll have earth-shatteringly interresting news later, though honestly there ain't much on the horizon.
Except the family reunion, over a month away, which I am eagerly awaiting. And the fact that Mom has threatened to evict me if my room isn't clean and unpacked in two weeks.
Hello homelessness! My new address: cardboard box, crap-filled alleyway, Toronto Ontario.

Thank Goodness for Hassles and Screwups

Okay, so the other day I'm at school, and I have no money on me, and the ATM is broken. No big deal. I try to call Mom at lunch, on the pay phone, to make plans for after school. I use my credit card, I dial her office, no answer, I hang up before the answering machine answers. I call her cell, same thing. I cease and desist trying to get in touch with my elusive mother, go to the college bookstore and buy a couple of books for class. Then I go to class. During break, I attempt one last time to contact Mom. My card gets turned down by the phone. WTF? I'm miles from my limit, it worked an hour ago, and it's the same phone. What's the deal? I get pissed, go home at the end of the day and call the bank.
They froze my card. They thought it was stolen. (The books I bought weren't THAT expensive!)
They have me confirm my recent charges.
Books? Yes.
Phone calls? Yes.
Monthly deposite to an internet service provider [I'm worried it might not be right to put the name down]...wait. No. Nooooooooooo.
They say I've been paying said internet company for many months!
Thank you for informing me.
(Eventually) I get in contact with Internet Service Provider Extrordinaire. Hello, why are you taking my money?
Blah, blah, mistake, blah, blah, confirmed inactivity, blah...refund.
REFUND, BABY!
I'm aware that technically it was already my money, and that it's not free, and it's not really a pleasant surprise, whatever. It still feels like an unexpected windfall. Yay me.
So, I guess the moral of this story is...thank goodness for hassles and screwups.

Found a moment to write

I can't believe I've been reduced to this, but I'm blogging on a campus computer during a break in my design class. I guess a busy girl's gotta do what a busy girl's gotta do, but the fact is that I really am getting fed up with the disconnectedness this schedule is beginning to instill in my day-to-days.
I got an angry email from Shesh this morning for being unreachable girl lately, and I had to cut a phonecall with Hugh short the other night, and have yet to get back to either of them.
Okay, so I'm busy, you get the gist.
On the other hand, I'm learning a lot, (like, supersized learning), and I'm getting everything done (so far, and at the expense of some, very small but vital, amount of sleep).
My classmates and I are getting long well, still trying to remember each others names (I think I'm losing the race on that one, but so far no one seems to be holding that against me), and the teachers and guest speakers who've been coming to see us continue to be really interresting and positive about our future. It's not like University, where, if they spoke about future profession at all, it was always in amorphous might-happen-but-probably-not-for-most-of-you terms. Here, it's always "when you're out in the world doing this...", or "When you get a book that you want to look like this...", or "when you're publishers...", or (from a particularily optimistic speaker), "when you're the head of the company..."
I love it. It's like it's real. A career.
I didn't mean to make that sound so cheesy.

I'm trying my best to keep school from becoming my whole life.
The job is going well (have I mentioned the job?). A jewelry counter in the mall, small but apparently profitable, fun so far, easy going, and they give the a great friggin discount- Mom's doing flips. (So am I).

Oh, I just remembered something I've been waiting to blog about for the longest time, but have been waiting to do- my masterpiece.
I made this little beaded thingie (doll, objet d'art, whatever), and I gave it to Hugh (the first one, anyway). It stared out simple, and kind of just grew. It turned out kind of...impressive. I feel weird writing that, like, prideful or whatever, but people seem to like the thing, that's all I know. We (the fam) went to my aunt's house for passover and I showed it to my uncle, who was pretty jazzed about it. We talked art for a god long time, which was pretty damn cool. My uncle (cousin, technically, or second cousin, whatever) is a woodcarver. He gave me a block of soapstone- I'm going to try and make my own faces for my next spirit dolls. Though I already have two other faces waiting to be worked with. That'll take some time. Right now I'm working on a strand of lime coloured pearls.

Anyways, my time is up here. Blog more if the chance ever presents itself! Love to all!

I guess it's a whole new life...

Toronto is intense.
I moved here exactly a week ago (go me!), and this week has been SOOO long! I would have blogged about it much sooner, but…
Okay, to start at the beginning- the move went well, smooth and not too terribly long, and the only casualty was my keyboard, which was promptly replaced, hence the wordage you’re all now receiving. (P.S; R.I.P. my keyboard, which died untimely of a Vanilla Coke drowning).
Great big thanks to Mom and Michael and most especially to Hugh, couldn’t have done it without you. Now if only I didn’t have to do it ever again…
Spent Saturday recovering energy (not very successfully, blamed mostly on my mother, who seems to think that 9:30am is sleeping in), and trying to sort/unpack boxes. Also not very successfully, as I am right now sitting surrounded by, you guessed it, boxes.
Sunday we went shopping. Desperately needed, and I actually got some nice stuff, stuff I needed (as she keeps reminding me), though I mourn the spending of that much money, which could have bought…so…MANY…books…
And Monday was the beginning of school! (Yeah, great summer vacation for me, right, two days? *Laughter sodden with sarcasm*) (I want to know who decided that sarcasm was a liquid. Now there’s a leap I wouldn’t have made on my own.)
My new program (four months of the Creative Book Publishing Program at Humber College in Toronto, for those of you who can’t keep up here), is well, let’s just say it accounts for a lot of that ‘intense’ comment this entry started with. Eight hours a day (give or take), with an hour lunch, lots of classes, tons of teachers/lecturers and guests, and an amazing amount of information. I have no doubt that this will be hard, but so far I am Really enjoying it; it’s interesting and the people I’m meeting are amazing. My classmates are the most diverse, eclectic group I could never have imagined, and we’re getting to know each other and everyone is friendly and we’re having a lot of fun (or at least, I am). It’s fantastic to get to spend time with a very large group of people…just like me.
A true biblioholist may encounter another, maybe, once every long while, and usually only in the context of a bookstore. The meeting is most often a fleeting one- generally we’re lone nomads of the darkest aisles. But here, oh, here I have found an entire fleet of us, a pack, a… a band of biblioholists. (Forgive me, I’m very tired).
Talking books all day is fucking fantastic.
Sorry.

And that’s where I’m going to end this, even though there is much more to this week that I intend to enter here at some point, I’m afraid it’ll have to be a second part to this entry; I’m beat, and there’s still much to do…

Oh, I strongly suggest you all go listen to the Garden State soundtrack (trust me, and simultaneously forgive me for not telling you this earlier!), and read…something. Always.

Cheesy Goodbyes

The end.
Today I wrote the last of the last of my exams. I have no more. I have no more essays or tests or anything. University is done.
That feels really big, but right now I’m feeling pretty big, too. Like, it’s over, and that’s okay. I can swallow the fact.
Okay, enough of me being up with the cheese-wigginess.
Tonight I went out to dinner with Shesh (girl I worked with at the Pond, who was also in a class of mine- new friend), and a group of her friends. Then we went to a house party. They’re a great bunch of people and I can’t believe this is the only time I get to meet and spend time with them. It’s a downside to leaving- I would have liked to be part of their group. I’m planning on trying to stay in touch with them, through blog and messenger and email and all things electronic, but it won’t be the same.
To Kat, Kait, Farhide, Lisa, Lunchbox, Kelly, Doom, Shesh especially, and all the rest, I’ll miss having class with you, I enjoyed spending what little time I had with you, and I hope you remember my face.

To those, like myself, who are emerging, fresh-faced, into the world post-University, remember that we didn’t learn everything in those classrooms, the graffiti we left on the desks won’t be our only mark left on life, and that it’s normal and most especially okay to be aimless after college.
And apparently, I can’t escape my own cheesiness tonight, so I’m logging off while I still have a shred of dignity left. No more yearbook-esque-isms for me.

A busy week, to say the least

Sorry for the drought in blog updates-exams, you understand.
Laur came over last Sunday and we spent a couple of days relaxing, hanging out, catching up, and starting to pack up my room. I owe her a big thanks for the help.
Finished work at both my jobs this week, too. Leaving is intense, but I’ve known for awhile that it was coming, so it’s not that bad. At the bead store Deb gave me a gift certificate as a bonus and going away gift, which was super sweet of her, and I’ve decided to save it till I can come back there- it’ll be my excuse to visit.
Wrote one exam on Saturday, it went fairly well, and then trudged through the VERY cold rain to meet Mom and Michael, who drove me to Toronto so I’d be able to make it to Passover dinner at Aunt Rose’s. That was a wonderful night, and I had the best time.
Sunday was cutting fruit, a rock and gem show with Mom, and dinner with Michael’s family, which was only terribly awkward at first. No, honestly, it wasn’t that bad.
And then two interviews for jobs in North York on Monday, one of which looks pretty promising. I’ll tell you more if something comes of it.
Came back to Hamilton that night, which was strange- Toronto is really starting to feel more like ‘home’, I think because of Mom’s new place, and the knowledge that everything in I had in Hamilton- school, jobs, friends, house- is all ended or ending.
Studied a little and had my final exam early this morning.
I have two days left to pack, and I move on Friday. Mom is renting a truck and Michael will be coming with her, but neither of them is very good for the lifting and loading stuff, so I’ve sent out a cry of ‘help!’ to my friends. It’s difficult getting organized- everyone is so scattered and busy this time of year, it’s a huge production just to get two of us together in the same place at the same time. Hopefully we can all work something out by Friday, and that’s all I’m going to write, because otherwise it’ll sound manipulative, and a lot like begging, which is not my intention.
Anyways, I’m going to dinner now, talk later!

Have a Proverb

Never meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.
~Unknown

Not Strangers

Want a story?

He was born in Georgia, and not very long ago. Fair-haired and golden-skinned, he was a child who shone in the sunlight. He was bright and full of laughter and energy, and could never be persuaded to sleep until after sunset, though his parents knew if they waited until then, he would be good, and even easy to lull to sleep.
He loved to be outdoors. Rainy days always left him less enthused, quiet and lethargic.
On one sunny day he was playing in the backyard, swinging on the jungle gym and rolling around with a stuffed puppy named Bruce. He stopped rolling, sitting on the warm grass, squinting at the bright sky. His mother asked him what he was thinking. “I have a secret,” he told her, but would say no more. She fed him hot dog pieces with ketchup, and he went back to his playing.
That night, while being tucked into bed, the boy whispered to his mother that he wanted to tell her his secret. “What is it?” she asked, and he told her, “The sun shines just for me.” The mother smiled at her son, enjoying his odd comment. She kissed him goodnight, and he fell asleep quickly.
She didn’t forget what her son had told her, though it was only a passing comment that he never repeated.
That winter the family went on a trip to Toronto, where the father had a business conference and thought his son would like to see snow for the first time. There was no snow when they arrived, though, just many clouds and cold wind.
It was the last day of their visit and the mother and son were walking along the sidewalk, hand in hand. They passed a young woman walking in the opposite direction, and as she passed by, the boy looked at her, and she smiled back at him.
She was older, but not so old that she’d lost that magic that belongs to the young. She was more quiet than exuberant, she smiled much but seldom laughed, her hair was dark but her eyes were bright. She liked the summer and reveled in the colours of autumn, but she waited all year for the winter. Since she was young, she’d always been able to smell the snow that was ready to fall.
She stopped walking when she saw the boy looking at her. She leant down, level with him, as he approached, his mother watching pensively from behind. “I have a secret,” the boy told her, just as he’d told his mother so many months before.
“I know your secret,” the girl quietly smiled as she said it. His mother’s brows dipped in curious confusion- what was this stranger going to say to her son?
“The sun shines just for you, doesn’t it?” the woman said. Before the mother could register her shock the stranger continued, “Do you know my secret?”
The little boy smiled and looked up at the slatey clouds overhead. “It snows just for you.”
And as the first flakes the boy had ever seen started to float down over the city, the stranger-who was not at all strange to the boy, nor he to her- smiled back, and nodded her head.

David Suzuki ruined my day!

This sucks, today sucks, everything sucks!
Stupid landlords and worker guys who take my stuff!
Stupid jeans that rip and wear out and become unwearable!
Stupid buspass in my other jacket pocket, does me no good when it's at home!
Stupid sneakers, unworn and sore-foot-making cause I have to walk because of the stupid buspass!
Stupid class that is cancelled for a guest speaker that we weren't even told about!
Stupid David Suzuki!

This day had better start shaping up, or I swear to god I'm gonna go mental on it's ass.

Joy and invasion and craziness!

Okay, I know I've only been providing snippets (at best) lately, and I'm sorry for that, but so much has been happening!
I mentioned before the program at Humber College in Toronto that I was applying to? Well, a few weeks ago I was invited to an interview at the campus. The place is pretty nice, right on the water, and lots of small, older, stone buildings scattered about. Apparently, it used to be an asylum. (!)

The interview went well, I met the head of the program, and we talked about all sorts of things- well, all sorts of book things. Anyways, I left the campus feeling pretty good. I even bumped into Hugh on the subway on the way home, which was a nice surprise.

After chewing my fingernails for about a week, I finally got a call from Mom- I'm in! Yay me!

That made this past week crazy. I had classes, in which the profs are all getting frantic because the term is almost over, and they're cramming the last bits of their lesson plans down our throats faster than we can chew. I had one and a half exams to write, and a presentation (last minute, but that couldn't be helped), to do, and then a hurried trip to Toronto to help Mom move and to fill out my acceptance forms (yay!). That trip was super quick, but taxing- so much work, so little time!

I got back and had to work all weekend, and I found out (no, we weren't informed of this beforehand) that the new landlord just took ownership of the house. That shouldn't have been a big deal, except that apparently he went into my room and toured people through it while I was in Toronto. I am super pissed. I don't even know his name, he's never introduced himself to any of us, and he made no attempt to contact any of us before he did this. From now on I'm making sure I lock my door, and I've written Article 20.3, item c of the Tenant Protection Act (A landlord may enter the rental unit without written notice to show the unit to prospective tenants if, before entering, the landlord informs or makes a reasonable effort to inform the tenant of the intention to do so.) on the message board on my bedroom door. He wasn't around this weekend, but as soon as I see him that ass is losing some skin.
I'm so sick of dealing with the sh*t this house comes with.

Not to mention that after a few lovely, true spring days, I woke up to a blizzard Saturday morning! I swear, the weather was better in December. Oh, and to top it all off, last night was daylight savings time, which I completely forgot, and so I'm getting dressed this morning, and about to do my hair, when I get a call, and Shesh is like, "Are you coming to work today? Cause you have the keys to the store..." And I was freaking late and we opened like, a half hour late and it's all my fault. At least there's nothing they can do about it. I mean, what'll they do, fire me?! (Ha ha, gone in two weeks!)

Oh, not that everything is going to hell in a handbasket. I worked the last several weeks at the bead store without taking much stuff home, specifically to save up some credit so that I can fill my beading needs completely before I leave there (having to leave the bead store is definitely one of the worst things about being done with the Ham), and on Friday I did the first of my splurging. That was and is SO MUCH FUN! Even if I don't get to go to a bead store for a good long while, I have plenty to keep me occupied for awhile at least.

Oh, and one of my housemates is gone. Apparently, Krista has moved out (I say apparently, because she has yet to come and talk to me at all). I feel a little snubbed. I mean, she likes me- she brought me a shirt from the Bahamas! I took care of her cat! (Okay, so he turned a little pink, he was still healthy!) Maybe I'll see her later.

Anyways, there's more, but I'm tired and I'm afraid this'll start to turn into me rambling. I have a good movie to watch, and a whole lot of beads to go play with. Have a good night all!

I love that I love this so much!

Okay, so if you've looked at my blog at all lately, I'm sure you've noticed that I added a *working* Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince countdown. Totally aside from how cool it is to have something so visual on my page (since I'm a no-pictures kind of blogger), it's no secret that I'm a Potter fan.
I just found out that the Scholastic marketing plan for this book begins on the 100th day before release (it boggles my mind that they're even bothering with marketing; this book is selling itself really well already), but as a fan who plans to reap all the benefits she can out of this promotion, I'm not complaining.
What I'm looking forward too most? There's going to be a Harry Potter crossword in the New York Times- I've gotta get my hands on that!
Anyone know where I can get the Times in Hamilton?

Great easter weekend ingredients:

Fresh groceries,
sunshine,
pile of kids movies,
pile of books,
almost no work,
a friend or two.

I'll be leaving Kingdom Come

When I was little, my family used to take long car rides up from the Sarn to StKitts to visit my grandparents. We would drive along the 403 and we had certain landmarks. One of the best was the 'waterfall', a pitiful small drainage-pipe flow over the rocky top of the Hamilton 'mountain'. Mom would call, 'here's the waterfall guys!' and we would ooh and ahh over the trickle, which had a habit of drying up to nonexistance in summer and freezing to icicles in winter.
On one trip, Dad didn't come with us, and so one of the kids got to take the front seat. The brother won the toss, so he rode up front the whole way there (I read in the back). When we got to Hamilton, Mom pointed out the waterfall, and I lowered my book briefly to ooh and ahh on cue, and then we went back to our carride activites; Mom silently driving, me reading, my brother laying back, carsick. This particular trip (bro was maybe four or five), he was staring out the window, and when we drove through Hamilton, he started to get really really worked up. You know that state kids can get in, when they're excited and scared and focussed all at once, and they just get super aggitated, like a speed freak on three double espressos? He was like that. It took Mom a while to get him calmed down enough to talk. Finally, little brother managed to turn around and point out what he had seen- his all important find.
Did you parents ever tell you that if you weren't good, they would 'kick you all the way to Kingdom Come'? It sounds bad in text, but Mom usually said it in jest, when she had to fulfill the 'Mom role' by punishing us, but when she really didn't want to.
Apparently, for years the little brother had been imagining 'Kingdom Come' (which I think is actually a reference to the bible). He found Kingdom Come in Hamilton. Officially, it's the 'Cathedral of Christ the King', and it's built on a small hill that overlooks the highway. (I linked it- click the title).
I've kind of always liked living in Kingdom Come.