tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63126572011-08-07T13:42:40.736-04:00'the adventures of a mid twenty-ish university graduate' or, alternately and perhaps much more aptly: 'as mad as a barking fox'meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.comBlogger8121100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-25057046954767632382011-07-05T08:14:00.002-04:002011-07-05T08:27:48.862-04:00

all the time that we wasted, i don't want to waste it againlong grass. dirty hands. seeds. gesturing hands. glasses ringed with wine and mint leaves. coffee. dirty floors. one thousand and three mosquito bites. three hours of sleep with five am wake ups. long hair. dry cleaning. hanging things to dry on the line. baking and baking and baking and more baking. streetcars and subways and driving

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-49252308330825348472011-04-23T22:34:00.003-04:002011-04-23T22:40:43.324-04:00

stops or startsi had an unexpected nap that's made me feel slightly contrary, to be honest.this afternoon, i sat in a room with eight other women and we all ooohed and ahhed over an abundance of pink things, baby rattles, and a little girl who i have seriously fallen in love with. although slightly less goat-ish this time around in her crying noises, i'm more than a bit certain that my nickname

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-57313224359905986822011-04-15T21:48:00.002-04:002011-04-15T21:55:50.786-04:00

one part just needs the quietthere's a strong wind from the east tonight.i was convinced that there was a raccoon in my kitchen attic for all of five minutes because of the amount of wind blowing in through the vent in that part of the house. the window panes are all rattling in their frames, and i'm rethinking my wardrobe choice for tomorrow morning.i have strange marks, scratches and bruises up

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-5703707792911894362011-03-31T07:45:00.003-04:002011-03-31T07:49:43.500-04:00

brother attack and i reactthe sun is just now breaking through the clouds blanketing the sky in the east, and the ground is a thousand different shades of grey from the frost coating everything in sight.two nights ago patti and heather and shelley and i went to mom's house for dinner. we ate too much, laughed over some delicious wine, and i tried out a new dessert on the ladies (which, given that

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-83579877956570026632011-03-28T21:31:00.000-04:002011-03-28T21:32:22.138-04:00

receive and transmiti live in what is, by definition, a small town. but it is, despite appearances, a town. we have a main street. we have two sets of traffic lights and, if i’m not mistaken, two pedestrian crossing light-up signs as well. the grocery store is open twenty four hours a day (which actually merits and entire aside), the movie store has a foreign film selection, and it’s possible to

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-59777122752469910732011-03-27T09:28:00.002-04:002011-03-27T09:33:04.582-04:00

river, show me how to floati woke up this morning to the radio playing k-os. it amuses me when i hear sunday morning on sunday morning, to be honest.my coffee is terribly delicious, and i have a sneaking suspicion that i am going to be able to get this afternoon off, as there's next to nothing to do at work bar babysitting. i'm more than sure that don carsones can handle that, so i'm planning on

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-64549022307080911692011-03-24T23:38:00.002-04:002011-03-24T23:46:05.966-04:00

so deep, so widewhen i walk up the road to my house at night, it is back lit by a dark blanket full of stars, interrupted only by the outlines of tree branches.i came home tonight, the taste of red wine and laughter mingling in my mouth, to a small red flashing light on my phone, and a message that has reduced me to tears of the good variety:chole, four fifty seven in the afternoon. six pounds,

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-53306969676269195572011-03-23T20:35:00.002-04:002011-03-23T20:59:00.880-04:00

i saw the signs of my undoingi've got a mug with the dregs of a pot of ginger tea rolling between my two hands, and an open book on my lap. i keep catching whiffs of the bubble bath i used after work this evening- a ginger lime combination- that is bringing back memories of kent street and ottawa.today at work, i had a five minute conversation with a man trying to convince him that i was not from

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-36703657508331499112011-03-21T23:32:00.002-04:002011-03-21T23:44:13.290-04:00

i want to guard your dreams and visionsthe last week has consisted of the following:moving furniture. mud. crows. red wine. skype. laundry. early mornings and late nights combined. a nauseating bus ride. ttc with delightful fake wind included. the first patio lunch of the season. mint essential oil. laughing until my teeth hurt. nail polish. water that tasted like lipstick. eating in bed. even

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-26917961560621903002011-03-14T21:54:00.002-04:002011-03-14T22:03:26.794-04:00

ignite your bonesi made one freaking delicious meal this evening.the kitchen is trashed, but not too terribly, and i should probably be cleaning it up, but i am instead lingering over the last few sips of heady italian wine in my glass and listening to a random selection of music my ipod is picking out for me. the cat is curled up on the love seat across the room, full, no doubt, from the insane

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-86526791687336284252011-03-13T23:45:00.002-04:002011-03-13T23:53:46.716-04:00

it pains me you've put your foundations so at riskthe floor beneath my feet is solid, sitting on a base of cement rather than hovering over a basement space. the air smells like new wood, murphy's wood oil soap and the heat from a vacuum. the setting sun- all soft pinks and butter yellows- is glinting through the bow window stretching across the room to my left.i'm in my bare feet, my jeans dusty

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-63850000872086297442011-03-10T20:14:00.002-05:002011-03-10T20:26:10.003-05:00

the sugary snow of springtimemy feet are cold.i'm tucked into bed, the ugly rough blanket i have a strange affinity for scratches against my feet and legs creating, no doubt, a build up of static electricity i'll be able to see if i turn off my light. i have a bowl of granny smith apple slices to my right, and one of stephen king's books open across my lap. nim is sighing contentedly somewhere

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-62029210606795387482011-03-08T22:43:00.002-05:002011-03-08T22:52:26.954-05:00

they call it hip hopthe sky today was bleached a pale blue, clear from one horizon to the next save for a few jet trails and the shadows of the crows who have returned here to look for any kind of treasure left behind by the slowly melting snow.while the wind is still cold, and the bay covered with semi-solid pack ice, there's a hint of spring in the air that's entirely unmistakable. i can see it

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-82254179890710004242011-03-07T21:35:00.002-05:002011-03-07T21:42:27.517-05:00

we live together in a photograph of timei woke up this morning shortly after seven, the cat grumbling beside my head and the radio turned up far too loud. i was finished with coffee and toast by eight, and spent the next five. freaking. hours. cleaning, because i had an epic fail when it came to being a responsible adult this week.i seriously found a coffee mug in my shower. seriously.when i

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-19424728206470960532011-03-06T09:00:00.002-05:002011-03-06T09:06:43.038-05:00

you came in with the breezei had one of those mashed-into-the-pillow, sheet-lines-on-your-face, hair-pressed-unnaturally-into-cowlicks sleeps last night. it was fantastic. when i woke up, it was to the cbc playing bittersweet symphony and a small puddle of sunlight creeping up the wall.i now have a giant mug of coffee in one hand, a piece of toast in the other, and am dancing around to some newly

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-48957984464337602852011-03-04T19:26:00.002-05:002011-03-04T19:35:15.669-05:00

waves that leave me out of reachi pick up the phone on the third ring."hold the fucking line! don't move! don't fucking move!" is the first thing i hear. there's a strange dissonance in the background, a sort of humming echo, all too familiar at this point in my life. it's overshadowed by even more yelling, though, before i can begin to get a word in. "watch the fucking trays! watch the goddamned

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-27971673284672796932011-03-03T22:37:00.003-05:002011-03-03T22:44:49.866-05:00

waiting till the shine wears offi've been on this kick for about three weeks now where all i want to eat is grapefruit. which, honestly, is weird, because i think that before this last week i could count on one hand the number of grapefruits i have eaten in my life.i ran out of grapefruit today. i ate the last one this afternoon while typing out the end portion of a rather large email- my

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-43979425500061895302011-03-03T08:21:00.003-05:002011-03-03T08:29:56.959-05:00

simple and slow, it growsi love when, in listening to an album or a recording that's a "studio" mix, there are small snippets of the singer or the drummer or the bass player or someone else talking, either at the very end or the very beginning of the song. i'm not too sure why this amuses me so much, but i always feel like i've found some kind of treasure when a small phrase or a shouted voice is

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-86318296160304490692011-03-02T20:55:00.002-05:002011-03-02T21:16:20.168-05:00

don't underestimate the things that i will dodouble coffee. clean pants. correct addition on the deposit. oatmeal with blackberries. the neighbours dancing to the radio. police officers. a can of tuna. long distance telephone calls of hilarity. dancing in the fish shop. coffee with shelley. grapefruit. email. even more dancing in the fish shop. iron man. running. sauna. salmon dinner. surprise!

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-19093344900204591152011-02-28T21:07:00.002-05:002011-02-28T21:12:07.628-05:00

shot full of holesis is terrible that it's almost half nine and all i want is a big, bottomless, party mug of black coffee?if decaf were actually decaf, i might have a serious problem.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-6431300499542520942011-02-28T20:50:00.002-05:002011-02-28T21:06:08.150-05:00

as my hands adjust your hairi had this terrific flashback to being thirteen this morning.(i'm not sure if i mean terrific in the archaic sense or the modern. because, really, who wants to be thirteen, ever? it's terrible and terrifying and so confusing. but at the same time, there's so much potential when you're thirteen, so many possibilities. i'm inclined to think that my flashback was a little

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-20063194056833020062011-02-27T23:29:00.002-05:002011-02-27T23:35:04.483-05:00

she jets a path north, past the pitiful porti walked in to work this morning with a scarf wrapped around my head, my legs feeling strangely naked in tights. carson is standing in the back, tossing a rubber bouncy ball and catching it with a small plastic cup. without saying anything, he grins and picks up two cases: one is the cd case for journey's greatest hits (which, sadly, or not, depending

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-56994707354289533852011-02-25T22:13:00.002-05:002011-02-25T22:22:05.460-05:00

turning your orbit aroundi made a pot of minestrone soup last tuesday that i was really really pleased with. it has cabbage and beans and carrots and tomatoes and a whole bunch of other good stuff in it whose flavours have all blended together quite nicely in the past few days.the only problem is that the recipe i followed resulted in enough soup to feed, oh, you know, the state of texas.tomorrow

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-86426537940347657922011-02-23T23:58:00.000-05:002011-02-24T00:18:35.146-05:00

weep for yourself my man, you'll never be what is in your hearti drove down country this afternoon.[as an aside, man, what a colloquialism that is: down country. geographically, though, it makes sense from where i am. and in my mind, it also seems strangely apt. down and under and beneath in tales and myth and legend always seem to mean that strange otherworld that sits just beyond our own. and i

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-64445363413111088752011-02-22T18:20:00.003-05:002011-02-22T18:38:45.923-05:00

i am for real- never meant to make your daughter cryi walked downtown yesterday under a sky so blue it looked like technicolour. the pavement on my road has been heaved by the recent february thaw. its texture is something close to lizard skin, but it looks like bleached bones, the salt staining the asphalt a dry white. when cars go by it's like standing by the ocean: traces of salt sitting on

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-6923029255152530722011-02-17T13:50:00.002-05:002011-02-17T13:57:25.112-05:00

here we goi took up running last month.ok, well, i guess it's not technically running, since i'm using an elliptical machine, but it's as close as i'm going to get with good ole bronty making his presence known every time the barometer changes. anyways, i like to think of it as running, even if the sub-par machine i am using depicts my travels as a scary looking impossible-to-ride bicycle on its

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-23312216912106408192011-02-16T09:33:00.003-05:002011-02-16T09:38:52.733-05:00

they build it up just to burn it back downi'm continually baffled at the phenomenon that is being-so-tired-you-must-sleep, yet-you-are-unable-to-sleep-because-your-brain-will-not-shut-up. there's probably a scientific name for it, but since i am suffering from the after-effects of such a night, i feel too muddled to look it up.perhaps a second coffee, AND THEN A THIRD, is in order?

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-52364670302741706752011-02-15T09:56:00.002-05:002011-02-15T10:19:13.039-05:00

i'm moving past the feelingi like words with double meanings.takes the word devastating, for instance. it can mean complete and utter ruin; reduced to nothing; chaos. but it can also mean to reduce to helplessness; to render one unable to act; to stop one short, in short. often, this latter meaning seems to be applied to something that is beautiful, something that grabs your breath, something

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-25550927484249158132011-01-28T00:28:00.002-05:002011-01-28T00:34:37.350-05:00

with the lights down, it's more dangeroustwo mornings ago, i awoke to this terrible, terrible death clanging from my basement.i should note here that my basement is very much like the basement set from the evil dead in that it's a mostly dirt pack floor, there's weird little side rooms with dark and mysterious corners, and more than half of the space is taken up by a huge freaking rock. i don't

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-1984947999151045312010-04-18T21:30:00.002-04:002010-04-18T21:39:43.755-04:00

there's a few things i need you to know"second!" i exclaim, my right hand making wild motions. "second!"on friday night i managed to sneak in a little bit of time with my other family. after pulling up in front of a house that is a second home to me, melissa and mot and i spent a good thirty minutes gesticulating madly and laughing and talking until barb told us that we were making her

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-45412624332608439362010-04-15T13:52:00.002-04:002010-04-15T13:53:26.613-04:00

password you enter herelast night i ate a milk chocolate mini-bunny.and i am regretting it. hard.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-27001301938000066582010-04-14T17:09:00.002-04:002010-04-14T17:12:51.813-04:00

don't stop believingkate came over last night for dinner and a movie.well, it was supposed to be a movie. we thought that perhaps we'd check out boondock saints II but upon arrival at the hilariously stocked wiarton video store, we discovered that that wasn't going to happen. so instead we bought lemons [for the fish] and cheese [for kate] at the foodland and returned to my house to watch the

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-49078419629540585012010-04-09T21:15:00.002-04:002010-04-09T21:33:21.143-04:00

you get what you giveso, the other day i watched iron man no less than three times.well, ok, i fell asleep part way through it both the second and third times, because it was on more for company than anything. but still. that's an awful lot of robert downey jr. for someone who isn't perhaps the biggest of fans.the thing is, when i see mr. downey junior, he irks me. that's the only way i can

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-63328826139732902092010-03-24T12:23:00.002-04:002010-03-24T12:26:56.667-04:00

running down the road like loose electricitythere's nothing grosser than the smokehouse when it's dirty. eugh. i look like i've been attacked by a grease monster and all i can smell is the nauseauting combination of bleach and slightly overdone fish and brine.again: eeeuuuuuuuugh.however, in less euuugh-news, the smokehouse is now clean and happy and awaiting a lovely round of fish to be smoked.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-14706446970412506442010-03-21T12:20:00.002-04:002010-03-21T12:27:08.982-04:00

running down the road like loose electricityi've lost my glasses. i'm fairly certain that at some point in the nightly disturbance that is nim trying to make a nest they were knocked off the bedside table and are now hiding either under said table or the bed. however, anyone who wears glasses knows that if you lose them , it's nearly impossible to find them because you can't see.instead, i've

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-86083637200767480522010-03-19T17:49:00.002-04:002010-03-19T17:58:54.219-04:00

and it's been all over youthe phone buzzes in my ear, an eerie monotone after the ugly cacophony of vowels and consonants directed at me just moments before. and here i thought i'd heard every combination possible to make words didty and insults sting. apparently, i was incredibly, horribly terribly wrong.however, since it comes with the territory, i simply shrug it off, and spend the next few

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-17129942143309083802010-03-18T15:55:00.002-04:002010-03-18T16:01:00.569-04:00

i've got another confession to makekate and i are watching the x-files."there's no way she didn't sleep with him!" i say, pointing to the picture dancing past on the screen: scully in an oversized men's dress shirt. kate nods her agreement.i've changed twice since she's arrived. first, because i needed a sweater. and secondly because i managed to fling balsamic vinagrette all over myself and half

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-37826604609796932542010-03-16T12:07:00.002-04:002010-03-16T12:18:47.956-04:00

look at those buzzardsi woke up this morning to three babies on the floor.ok, not real babies. nim's babies. the small, round, balls of hardened polyester and cotton stuffing she likes to pretend are living were scattered across my floor. the odd thing is, though, pink baby was there. and i could have sworn that pink baby died a terrible [yet completely unintended] dryer death a few weeks ago.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-91477393194248383272010-03-15T12:23:00.002-04:002010-03-15T12:30:01.494-04:00

i can feel itthere's a certain smell in the air, a way in which the light hits the ground, a sound of creaking braches and birdsong that brings forth a certain ambition in me. i have this stange desire to run out and point out all of the tiny, minute things i see to complete strangers; to dig my fingers into their flesh while gesticulating madly at the sky above or the dirt below or the patterns

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-32469674501174749382009-03-16T12:30:00.001-04:002009-03-16T12:33:20.813-04:00

bird is the wordi am thrilled by the swooping presence of purple headed finches as they flit from bough to bough, to the ground and back up again.unfortunately, they are less than thrilled with my bird feeder, which, in its zealous safeguards against squirrels has created a platform that even the smallest of winged creatures has problems simultaneously perching on and making an effort to eat

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-64003981499023445702009-01-13T22:18:00.002-05:002009-01-13T22:28:20.378-05:00

is there anybody in there?my fingers are icy, reflecting, no doubt, the fact that the temperature outside is more like ottawa than wiarton.on saturday afternoon when i walked downtown, the bay was filming over with a light sheen of ice in this large and perfect crescent shap. the horizon was clear and blue, but right near the ice the water had turned a captivating and alarming shade of

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-56331143276160201912008-11-17T20:43:00.004-05:002008-11-17T20:51:56.179-05:00

you can tellmy hands smell like bleach.it's really snowing outside tonight. i mean, really really. the cbc told me that we're to get fifteen to twenty centimetres of the stuff, but i am leery in trusting their weather prediction skills. afterall, according to thier announcements, today was to be grey and cloudy. instead, the sun shone in one of those clear blue skies with clouds scuttling

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-30192390688162612992008-07-26T12:44:00.002-04:002008-07-26T12:51:11.683-04:00

oh yes he knows me, and he knows i'm rightthe first floor bathroom in my house is the only encolsed space that sits right above the giant rock that makes up most of my basement.on days like today, days defined by fast moving, low-to-the-ground clouds, and sudden outburts of intense quick rain; days created and influenced by the subtleties of a weather system a continent away, the damp of the

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-51650648836623499352008-07-24T20:14:00.002-04:002008-07-24T20:19:44.441-04:00

more than a feelingi'm trying to capture the last few stands of hair hanging down on the right side of my face when kevin's loud expletive fills the cab of his truck to capacity.within three minutes, we're on the side of the road, laughing and cursing and looking for prolems with a lighter. of course it's the alternator, and of course the belt has melted, and of course we have to wait for a tow

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-66313208288440731912008-06-15T10:21:00.002-04:002008-06-15T10:23:42.778-04:00

our bodies get weaki have dirt ground into my feet, hair tinted teal from a wall, primer stuck on the backs of my knees, one hundred and eighty thousand mosquito bug bites, bruises running the lines of both my shin bones, and a small chemical burn from CLR.and, quite honestly, i don't think i've ever had so much fun in my entire life.this whole owning-a-house bit seems to be more and more

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-67178229321440768332008-05-01T22:00:00.002-04:002008-05-01T22:06:14.033-04:00

time is on my mind, yes it is.i seriously haven't a clue where the past two monthes have gone.oh, wait....ottawa, snowstorms, driving across ontario with owen and mike, the caribbean, countless cups of rum and lime juice, swimming in the ocean, sleeping on a balcony, chasing crabs, driving, flying with white knuckles, cleaning, fish work, more fish work, smashing through ice in georgian bay,

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-86939916298652738392008-02-22T22:18:00.002-05:002008-02-22T22:24:44.174-05:00

there ain't no party like my gramma's tea partyhow i made it to twenty-four without seen gone with the wind is beyond me.but now that i have, i have to say that the line "frankly, my dear, i don't give a damn." is possibly one of the most tragic heartbreaking things i've ever heard. ever.also, i might be kind of in love with rhett butler, arrogance aside.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-9092824845668626782008-02-17T16:33:00.002-05:002008-02-17T16:38:13.260-05:00

a tunnel from my window to yoursi started off yesterday in the most incomprehensible of bad moods.at the end of the night, finding my boots admidst the melee of footwear at the top of the flora house stairs, my mouth filled with merlot, a total stanger tapped my arm, leaned in and whispered " you're really beautiful, you know."such a juxtaposition of feelings, from one end of the day to the next.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-6160963910277060702008-02-09T20:32:00.001-05:002008-02-09T20:59:45.703-05:00

we are the soundwednesday: i am struck immediately upon entering the church by the sheer cacophany of colour. the lines that extend from the alter to all three entrances on kent street are a riot of reds and blues and greens and purples and yellows and browns and mauves and ceruleans. and the second striking thing is the sound: the absolute silence of four hundred people, shuffling slowly,

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-34786527772327840312008-01-27T02:01:00.000-05:002008-01-27T02:04:44.155-05:00

see the stars shining like nails in the nightyou know when you have one of those nights that starts off kind of ok and ends up leaving you with this shiny, sparkly residue, your cheeks huting from smiling, your teeth weary from exposure, and your soul all the better for a good hour's worth of conversation, had, of course, across a table littered with wine bottles and scraps and crumbs and basic

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-300019495699657542008-01-24T21:50:00.000-05:002008-01-24T22:03:39.824-05:00

we never talk of our lack of relationshipsi might be mad, you know.i mean that in the proper sense of the word- mad as in insane, off my rocker, one penny short of a dime, kooky, crazed. you know, mad like that.i was offered a job interview today and i said no. it slipped out much easier than i thought possible- a simple syllable, softly drawn out. followed, of course, by rounds of 'thanks yous'

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-67350226453617005922008-01-21T17:17:00.000-05:002008-01-21T17:23:11.594-05:00

just see how far it will goi am finding the cold weather to be positively delightful. my ears burn where i got frostbite once, and my nose runs, and my left eye waters until i have bits of icy tears stuck to my face, and my legs above the knees always kind of feel like frozen meat popsicles, but really, despite these minor annoyances, it's delightful to watch plumes of breath float skywards, and

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-86260400115143889432008-01-16T23:51:00.000-05:002008-01-16T23:58:18.573-05:00

the world is lost again but you are here with methe sky today was this incredible shade of blue, fading away to creamy yellow on the horizon.i stood behind parliament for what felt like hours, watching as the river slipped below ice, a sharp juxtaposition of dark movement and solid white tranquility. through some trick of the wind, the traffic was muted, the only sounds the soft intake and exhale

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-32865023377074428342008-01-14T00:24:00.000-05:002008-01-14T00:28:04.333-05:00

come together, yeahin an odd twist of events- which, in no particualr order, included me dashing outside sans shoes in subzero weather, a broken elephant, talking about underwater logs and their removal, discussions of leechs and mice and foxes and seagulls, black currant tea, spilled beads and teeth hurting from smiling- i've ended up with a minor split lip.abuse, i tell you.it's rampant in this

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-48544496434901537112008-01-13T11:06:00.000-05:002008-01-13T11:10:02.787-05:00

hang me out to dryhot coffee, an over-hard egg with cheese on bread i made myself, indecipherable voices drifting from across the hall, segments of an orange slowly peeling away from each other, the sound of water sluicing down the drain from a hot shower, and the after taste of wine and staying up until nearly dawn with a book.yeah, sunday mornings can be my favourite sometimes.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-80069543749112474982008-01-12T19:04:00.000-05:002008-01-12T19:09:54.668-05:00

i am no hero, that's for sure.i've got this image in my head, and it's stuck on repeat, looping endlessly.riding northbound out of toronto, on a greyhound. the sky is overcast and sullen and gunmetal grey and there's wind, but not the kind that makes your teeth hurt from exposure. the bus winds its way through streets, twisting and turning, escaping the urban ladscape. somewhere- i'm not sure, i

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-26680170678936031262008-01-10T16:20:00.000-05:002008-01-10T16:32:42.563-05:00

the soul in its stripteasethe january thaw is here.yesterday i walked though centretown, buffeted by the winds with grey clouds racing past, catching on the tops of buildings and dripping fog into every imaginable space. today the sun was out, the temperature colder, and the wind slightly less willful, but the air still holds that particular something that always comes with unseasonable warmth in

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-6077531550786732072007-12-18T17:09:00.000-05:002007-12-18T17:16:11.271-05:00

travel south 'cross landthe past few days have been quite indescribable.starting with a drive to to airport under a hanging, huge, yellow banana moon, i've had theological debates, ten hours of sleep [give or take a bit], a ridiculous amount of eggs prepared overhard, scads of wine and amaretto, cookies, sugar, and fun. there's been an amazing amount of assholery in the kitchen, cookie

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-13861783308253448202007-12-11T22:36:00.000-05:002007-12-11T22:46:21.612-05:00

nothing you can say that can't be sungso the other night i went out on a hot date with myself to the movies. ensconsced in my giant coat and two scarves and a funky hat, i followed the street south to the mayfair, paid nine dollars and, sitting in the back, on the left, sat for the next two hours with my mouth agape at the sheer magnitude of the images assaulting my senses. i got goosebumps. i

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-2453683811966804222007-12-06T16:15:00.000-05:002007-12-06T16:24:52.792-05:00

wake up in the morningi've only managed to half dress myself today.luckily, that half-ness was the pants part.i've spent hours reading things; old speechs, poetry, parts of the gospels, just about anything that caught my eye today. i managed to clean my room- all hail the mighty vacuum cleaner and its ability to banish dust rhinos!- and create a cohesive list of christmas gifts for the upcoming

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-88465966623560846162007-12-05T13:49:00.000-05:002007-12-05T13:50:13.502-05:00

love, love will tear us aparti love shoveling.like, a lot.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-42787872782247982572007-12-03T11:20:00.000-05:002007-12-03T11:27:34.064-05:00

i got out of bed today, swear to god i couldn't see my facei couldn't sleep last night, even after trying every trick in the book. or, well, every trick in MY book.i wandered around our house in the dark, relishing the different temperatures of each room- our kitchen is hot, our dining room mediocre, and our living room is consistantly morgue-like. outside, the glow from the yellow-orange street

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-80457516616108209852007-11-29T23:37:00.000-05:002007-11-29T23:44:18.579-05:00

she was getting some peppersi just saw on the news that rodney king was shot today.seriously- does that guy have like the world's biggest bad-luck charm stapled to his forehead, or what?granted, i don't know any of the extenuating circumstances, or much of his history [except the basics], but i mean- c'mon world. even if he has the worst karma eveeeer, i feel this might be a bit much on a

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-43907090387147536472007-11-28T22:04:00.000-05:002007-11-28T22:11:07.226-05:00

someone to come home toi'm on my hands and knees, the floor cold against my flesh, sweat sticking my shirt to my spine and suffering from what i internally refert to as "slime gloves" when i force myself to pause and actually, truthfuly, assess the situation:it's eleven a.m. on a wednesday in late november, and i- a diploma-welding university gradute- am wearing old ratty shorts and an even

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-80382940842250744252007-11-26T10:08:00.000-05:002007-11-26T10:17:58.488-05:00

believe in mewhen anna lets me into her house, i'm instantly assaulted by the oldness of the place. and the terribly almost neon yellow-colour of the paint that washs over every vertical surface in the house.soon i'm introduced to a four different roomates- rocky, and robin, and joey, and some dude from the army who is truly built like two triagles, each point sharply pronounced and a neck that

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-50358293107791893932007-11-22T10:20:00.000-05:002007-11-22T10:23:30.799-05:00

as we are all togetherpeter brought me chicken stock yesterday that, oddly, smelled of almonds so intensely when i opened the container that i seriously thought that i was holding amaretto in my hands.today is the first day of snow. i'm going to dig out my tights and my winter coat and venture forth to the market in search of a small gift for kate's birthday. i've made a cake and have a dinner

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-87160736249625010102007-11-15T22:56:00.000-05:002007-11-15T23:01:08.417-05:00

i put this moment- over heremy legs are cold and there's buses rattling my house every twenty minutes or so.i forget, when i'm not here, the kind of magic that this place has. espeially in the sky. the sky here is big, so much bigger than what i'm used to. home is where the sky only makes up half of what your eye can take in- the rest is dominated by limestone bones and deep cold water. here,

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-86595437048399930562007-11-14T20:05:00.000-05:002007-11-14T20:12:18.307-05:00

i been waiting on this my whole lifewe found a real ham shoulder in the grocery store today.i boiled it and baked it and we had it for dinner and i was instantly swept back to sunday dinners at my gramma's house. ham and scalloped potatos and peas. she always poured a can of ginger ale over the ham right before serving it.i wish finding a shoulder of ham- a real shoulder, i mean- wasn't such a

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-85701025482202336172007-11-11T20:45:00.000-05:002007-11-11T20:47:00.793-05:00

see the lights go downi was filling out a survey on a website i frequent quite a bit and have to wonder:once you've seen a tribute band, can you ever go back?i'm inclined to say no. even if said tribute band was hilariously awesome.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-86284146255828576562007-11-09T19:46:00.000-05:002007-11-09T19:52:36.747-05:00

fireworks over lake michiganmy mind keeps wandering to summer.one day, andre and i had to clean bathrooms. not that this was out of the ordinary. it was more that the bathrooms had become so ordinary that the thought of spraying down another toilet or wiping another mirror had reached beyond unbearable- it was pure torture.earlier in the day, we had been discussing television. hbo came up, and,

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-32843374822362792962007-10-13T22:56:00.000-04:002007-10-13T22:58:56.163-04:00

she knows that i've been doing somethingtwo bottles of merlot + an old basement restaurant + nepalese brother chefs + images of the himalayans and the displaced tibetian nomads + three course fundraising dinner + original artwork = just about as close to awesome as you can get in wiarton on a cultural level.whew, my soul needed that.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-3594703528692033532007-09-23T21:44:00.000-04:002007-09-23T21:52:10.980-04:00

disturb not her dreamsi've just spent six hours making sock monkies with my mother's friends.there's been this strange desire building in me all week to run away, to venture north to bare limestone and deep water. if i can manage it, somehow, i'll go there this week on a day off with a peanut butter and banana sandwich and a book about the dead, waiting to see if i can make sense or clarity out

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-50990692234141429132007-09-22T21:38:00.000-04:002007-09-22T21:50:21.116-04:00

honey, i hope you canafter midnight last night, the wind picked up, blowing in a high and faded colour for the last full day of summer.i've been quiet, reading books in full gulps and trying out new kinds of apples. the cats have become my constant companions, mirroring the movements of my legs as i wander aimlessly through the house and around the property.i spend hours reading recipes without

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-89762539232274338352007-09-04T15:06:00.000-04:002007-09-04T15:12:10.382-04:00

i'm not pretending.a foursome of americans walked intothe fish shop on saturday.the husband- tall, balding, and slightly rounded- asked a million and one questions without waiting for the answer. his wife- bad dye job, piled curls, blue eye shadow to her brows- whispered to me over her husband's orders. their friend- older, white haired, with a soft, secret smile- watched with a fond gleam in his

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-86687567996490163222007-08-27T20:06:00.000-04:002007-08-27T20:11:56.253-04:00

if the children don't grow upso, i've kinda fallen in love with a literary character. ok, maybe in love is a bit extreme. i think perhaps it might be more accurate to say that i have an intense girly crush on a fictional man named geordie. hahahahahaha.in other news, eight billion tons of fish later and i'm still ready to kick some serious ass. mr. whitefish has no power. no power at all anymore.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-74603346007069500962007-08-19T10:36:00.000-04:002007-08-20T20:42:13.042-04:00

sunday was a bright day yesterdayabout a week ago, i marched into the fish shop, picked up a thawed piece of fish from last novemeber, and ran my tounge quickly and decively across its skin.i'm finding a level of peace here, a pace of life that seems to be agreeing a little too well with me. the limestone and cold water combination has yet to woo me completely into itself, but i have this

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-86931218123500800772007-08-06T10:35:00.000-04:002007-08-06T10:43:29.481-04:00

did i imagine?this might be it, you know.i've stared at the empty space stretching below any words i've written here in the past month and have become at once under and overwhelmed by the sheer ridicuolousness of throwing out random tidbits to the internerd. at the same time, there's something in me- probably the vox- that refuses to quite give this up. it's vain, selfish, and really,

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-9769377606741768792007-07-10T22:24:00.000-04:002007-07-10T22:40:33.377-04:00

it was business as usualthe heat is hanging here again, like wet wool draped on unsturdy forms.i've spent the largest portion of the last forty eight hours of my life in my room, reading until my eyes blur, investigating methods of pickling, listening to albums that reflect ten years ago. oh, i've escaped for periods of time- i mopped the floor, i ventured out for bread, for dinner with leslie,

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-7427117348375359122007-07-02T00:05:00.000-04:002007-07-02T00:13:22.077-04:00

out on the wild windy moorstoronto- or, if you love douglas coupland, tranna- holds this kind of mystique for me.maybe it's the huge buildings, their windows reflecting beams of sunlight and strange images back and forth until all proper form is lost. maybe it's the masses of people, yelling, tripping, strolling [because they don't ever seem to just walk i that city] down streets with names that

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-42017856341826161062007-06-20T22:59:00.000-04:002007-06-20T23:03:55.792-04:00

let her talk about the things you can't explaini was horribly distracted at work today by a groundhog.you see, there are probably enough groundhogs on the carleton campus that everyone and their mother could take one home and we'd still be tripping over them. they live EVERYWHERE and are constantly out and about foraging for foodstuffs and the like. today though, the groundhog i was watching was

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-54496503034797329812007-06-19T22:59:00.000-04:002007-06-19T23:08:08.234-04:00

we are shaking the treei seem to be at a loss for words lately.which is ridiculous, really, because so much happens, so many things occur in the small spaces of time i drift through that my documentation could be through the roof. the past week has been, without a doubt, one of the strangest, most heartbreakingly wonderful [and, at times, godawful] period of time. small snippets seem to stand

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-90131375675882772582007-06-12T17:04:00.000-04:002007-06-12T17:11:14.661-04:00

i've know you all summer and you rose above it allthe heat hangs off of everything here right now.it feels like forty pounds on my chest, compounded by a summer cold that i refuse to admit to having and seven days of work without stopping.at half two this afternoon, peter turned to me in the quiet of lanark and stated that he had a strange and building desire to do violence. when i finally

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-46671846442572373882007-06-05T23:29:00.000-04:002007-06-05T23:37:24.025-04:00

why should i love you?low light complimented by tall, sexy glasses full of amber liquid sum up the night.i find myself jammed on a bench, my right side snug against kate as she talks to morgen in that comfortable way they have between them, words extended through gesture, eye movement, and history. to my left is peter, shoulders awkwardly hunched [as are mine, to accomodate everyone on the long

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-57411231162443919622007-06-02T23:56:00.000-04:002007-06-03T00:02:34.755-04:00

i take to sleep again where i dare pretendelectric shocks from the most complex of machines- the human heart.thoughts swirl madly on nights like this. there's the constant sounds of horns, blaring from near and far. the aftertaste of fruit, cocnut rum, and spiced potatoes lingers in my mouth, decidedly good and bad all at once. my body seems to say sleep and my mind is overcharged - electified,

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-11226726497788294132007-06-01T22:34:00.000-04:002007-06-01T22:44:04.736-04:00

all the secret things in warm melted potsi have become fascinated with the movements of muscles- sinew and tendons stretching across a frame, sheathed in skin, moving in bunches and waves and ripples. forearms may be my favourite, their movements slight as fingers dance around various objects, mixing batter in a bowl, slicing fruit, tossing sheets through the air. equally enthralling are calves,

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-39366933098389741602007-05-31T00:35:00.000-04:002007-05-31T00:37:32.250-04:00

take good care of, good care of youmidnight rain.there's nothing quite like it.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-43057648653295766012007-05-22T22:56:00.000-04:002007-05-22T22:58:06.111-04:00

i've driven in the darktoday when i was biking home, the laughter of children echoing and rebounding off of warm red bricks and deep shady maples, everywhere smelled like lily-of-the-valley and lilac.

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-53610362299279739722007-05-20T23:13:00.000-04:002007-05-20T23:24:59.280-04:00

with a sky blue skyi can feel all my bones this night.there's a cool wind seping in from beneath my balcony door, hinting at deep sleep, reminding me of nights in the past, crawling into my cold bed, the sheets crisp, sleek, quiet like cold ice. but there's also the smell of lilac, the slap of flipflops, incoherency summed up in thier juxtaposition with the way everything feels.for the first time

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-84276075099872735712007-05-18T22:08:00.000-04:002007-05-18T22:13:07.658-04:00

this is the way that we love- like it's foreverfour flights. stacks of blankets. scrapers. spanish cursing. pizza. hockey. long rambling talks with an amazing number of people. dirty socks. underpants in the oddest places. cleaning up after cleaners. spitfire sneezes. glebe mania. noon-time nap on first lanark. mystery bruises. mystery cuts. live on live. chanting. wilco. breakfast smoothies

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-30875525811040330932007-05-13T15:53:00.000-04:002007-05-13T16:01:11.426-04:00

off to chase foreverummmm, a list?a- i don't think there's enough words to fill up some of the spaces sometimes.b- i have this weird mark on the side of my neck that i am ninety nine percent sure is actually a minor chemical burn. however, it unfortunately looks like a ridiculously large hickey. and i received a lot of flak for it. i don't know what to think. if it IS a hickey, could the person

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-88895102894862038802007-05-09T22:48:00.000-04:002007-05-09T22:53:06.682-04:00

stand here till i fill all your heart's desiresthe days have blended into weeks, permeated by the drone of vacuum cleaners and the smell of bleach solvents. occasional snippets of real life seep in around the edges in the form of a swift bike ride to work, a pizza and cheesecake party, wine, laughter, mad gesticulations and hockey, ninety-six dollars of groceries and grocery related paraphanaelia

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-63390974509429726912007-04-28T00:03:00.000-04:002007-04-28T00:18:55.449-04:00

don't you know i tried so hard to love you in my way?there's a thick haze hanging over the city tonight, blocking the stars and the moon from sight but not from mind.the past few days have been incredibly satisfying. i've secretly been terrified about this time for the past four months. an in-between time, a time where things are shifty. unsolid. nostalgic. there's so many things ending, and so

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-75854708873032386502007-04-20T18:21:00.000-04:002007-04-20T18:34:00.781-04:00

your love is teaching me how tomy forearms heat up first.you'd think that maybe my face, or my nose, or the tops of my feet. but no, today, as i ventured outside in the hot spring sun, the world a jumble of exposed skin, bright colours, short skirts, wide sunglassess, and ice cream cones, it was my forearms that recognized that yes, the sun is pouring down and the sky is so blue that your eyes

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-83681608373509558512007-04-17T09:40:00.000-04:002007-04-17T09:48:08.699-04:00

man makes a buildingfor some reason, i am ridiculously enamoured with bad u2 remixes currently. especially of songs from zooropa and pop. there's something about the falsetto combined with a drum machine beat and some sexy southern-sounding voices that apparently does it for me.in other news, houdini met his match last night. apparently a combination of peanut butter and vegetable cracker was the

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-69579090929472237492007-04-16T19:12:00.000-04:002007-04-16T19:23:37.531-04:00

surrender, dislocatehey, you.i feel like i have confessions to make. i kinda of have that weird feeling in the pit of my stomach i get when i go to church, when the priest walks up to me at communion. it's hard to decribe, impossible maybe, because i've never tried before. i think it's because today has been characterised completely by the strangest disconnect between my body and my mind.i'm

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-37987410733349685262007-04-16T10:00:00.000-04:002007-04-16T10:09:28.508-04:00

and that, frankly, will not flyi woke up to slush falling from the sky.despite the horrificness of this weather though, it's already started off as an awesome day. i can't place my finger on it, what this is. part of it stems from a kind of excitement that you get when making plans for deep summer that involve a roadtrip, the possibility of a picnic, and music heard from the rafters of an old

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-71635923699865033412007-04-15T21:46:00.000-04:002007-04-15T21:54:54.973-04:00

this latitude weakens my kneesi'm having one of those days where all i want to do is stay in, go out, dance, nap, eat chocolate, bake, obsess about tropical fruit, be silent, scream loudly and just about everything in between.i finished my hums take-home a few hours ago. while i know i should be rejoicing, or jumping for joy, or something like that, the nostalgic part of me is holding firm,

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-75667105340339304652007-04-14T21:42:00.000-04:002007-04-14T21:54:17.644-04:00

just a change in something in the wayi hear anna's voice trailing down the stairs, calling my name at a rather odd pitch. she comes racing down, the phone in one hand, intermingled polish and english words flying out."there is a GIGANTIC bird in the back lot!" she exclaims.we slowly swing open the back door. i'm expecting a mutant crow, or a blue heron, or a vulture of some sort. nothing, however

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-31938878786974254832007-04-12T21:52:00.000-04:002007-04-12T21:57:42.565-04:00

we said "we didn't see a thing!"so, apparently i roast a pretty mean chicken.in other exciting news, i have my first non-fish related official job in more than seven years. rather than cleaning fish, i'll be cleaning res rooms. i have a feeling there's going to be some terribly interesting discoveries in those first few weeks of work, because, yes, i remember what i did to my res rooms. and what

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6312657.post-45942852709830699432007-04-10T23:52:00.000-04:002007-04-11T00:20:00.357-04:00

six o'clock in the morning, you're the last to hear the warningbecause i'm effing challenged. have a dose of hello:i am irrevocably fucked for my exam tomorrow and i can't be arsed to care. what's twenty percent of a mark, really? von ranke and meinecke and bury and trevelyan can go frack themselves. ok, actually, i like trevvy- he can come and hang out with me and we'll play cricket. but

meghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02577408152637037574noreply@blogger.com0