Monthly Archives: June 2004

Jealousy Trap

If this entry deserved a title, it would be “Really Really Really”.

Pat talks about how jeal­ous Jen gets some­times, and describes it as a heat ema­nat­ing from her body, like a mild sun on the face that he can feel from across the room. We joke, we laugh, a good time is had by all.

Then I remem­ber myself feel­ing that once, just once, on a day when she was inse­cure and some­one else was talk­ing to me a lit­tle too ebul­lient­ly. The look. THE LOOK she gave her, like a moth­er bear star­ing down some­one who got between her and her cubs.

And I remem­ber not lik­ing that feel­ing, as if I was the one who had to apol­o­gize for some­thing, when I had done noth­ing wrong at all.

But I think to myself, now, how I would­n’t mind feel­ing that way just one more time.

>:)

Hoegaarden (Who-Gar-Den)

Thumbnail: Hoegaarden

En célébra­tion of his new job, Trolley and I head­ed over to the near­est Oak to grab a pint. I had the chance to try some Hoegaarden White, and it’s one of the most inter­est­ing beers I’ve ever tast­ed. It has a unique hazy yel­low colour (which is rather obvi­ous in the pic­ture), due to the fact that it’s unfil­tered. There are lay­ers and lay­ers of cit­rus and spice, which come from corian­der and dried Curacao orange peels, that make the fin­ish more sharp than crisp. Not a beer I would gen­er­al­ly drink, but def­i­nite­ly an unique taste that any­one should try at least once. alco­hol

Pieces Of April

I real­ly don’t know what I was expect­ing from Pieces of April, but its doc­u­men­tary-style direct­ing and well thought out script made it an effec­tive movie nonethe­less. In the end, Peter Hedges presents the last few scenes in still pho­tographs, let­ting the audi­ence come up with their own reac­tions and dia­logue. All one is sure of is that every­thing is resolved, and every­one is hav­ing a good time. And for a movie like this, that becomes the most impor­tant thing.

Subtle Summer Day

It’s so sub­tly beau­ti­ful out­side this morn­ing. It’s been a string of sun­ny, clear morn­ings in a row, but today, at 6:30 ante merid­i­an, the sky was dark and grey.

There’s still a mist through the air, and it feels like a damp fall evening, one best spent in front of a fire with a book in hand and the smell of wood in the air. If it weren’t for the fact that this is well into spring, this day would­n’t feel so out of place. But alas, all the street lamps cast their yel­low­ish light onto the streets, and all I want to do is lie in bed and lis­ten to the wet tires of cars dri­ving by.