Posts in category "Daily Life"

A Favour House Mine

We were at the house late last night, build­ing desks and fill­ing dry­wall holes. I decid­ed not to sleep in this morn­ing, because I need­ed the time to get work done, although I also need­ed sleep to get it done prop­er­ly. There are mailouts to com­plete, state­ment stuffers to design, bitmaps to vec­tor­ize, and count­less oth­er things for which I’m respon­si­ble. I con­vinced myself that I’ve (begrudg­ing­ly) gone through enough tor­tur­ing days of lit­tle sleep for some­one else, so it would be more appro­pri­ate if I did it for myself now.

Stepping out­side, the chill of win­ter morn­ing still in the air against the ear­ly light of spring, I skipped nine tracks until Claudio start­ed singing, in his shift­ing, melod­ic voice:

Bye bye beau­ti­ful
Don’t both­er to write

My lethar­gy turned into ener­gy, as I thought of how things have worked out based on the deci­sions I made. How I could die hap­py right now, although I’d pre­fer to wait at least two weeks if giv­en the choice.

The way I seem to have every­thing I deserve, and noth­ing that I don’t.

March Books

Thumbnail: March books

I love the feel of a new book. Before the cor­ners are dent­ed, when the cov­er is still slip­pery smooth.

Guy Gavriel Kay — The Last Light Of The Sun
I was a huge fan of Tigana (although not so much Fionavar Tapestry, even if it was part­ly based in the city I grew up in). I don’t even like fan­ta­sy books, and Tigana is on the list of my top five books of all time.

Carol Shields — The Republic Of Love
As I said in a pre­vi­ous post, I was in the mood for some­thing mod­ern although I could­n’t bring myself to admit that I was also in the mood for some­thing roman­tic. I found out about this book when I noticed Karen read­ing it dur­ing last years May 2–4 camp­ing trip.

Mordecai Richler — The Apprenticeship Of Duddy Kravitz
Ever since I read The World According To Garp, a book full of lust, humour, pas­sion, and life, dis­cov­ered from the “Recommended Reading” list that my high school pub­lished every year, I had a deep rep­sect for the books I was exposed to in class. However, two English class­es meant two dif­fer­ent cur­ricu­lums. When I was study­ing The Great Gatsby, the oth­er class was study­ing To Kill A Mockingbird. When they were doing A Prayer For Owen Meany, I was doing Pride And Prejudice. The Apprentiship of Duddy Kravitz is to make of up for the time I spent study­ing The Catcher In The Rye.

It was only a few days after I bought these three books that I real­ized every sin­gle one of these authors is Canadian. Why does this coun­try rule so fuck­ing much.

It's The First Week Of Spring

The city begins to melt as the sun warms soil and pave­ment alike. Trickles of water run every­where while the ice dis­solves, a pre­scient sign of the streams soon to be come from lawn sprin­klers and car wash hoses, as excess finds its way to sew­er grates. By night, the tem­per­a­ture drops below freez­ing again and the small urban cur­rents turn sol­id. Pedestrians prac­tice their wad­dles in the morn­ing as they maneu­ver across the slip­pery patch­es. The only remains of ice are the paths left com­pressed by the tram­pling of feet through the win­ter.

Every day I wake up it’s a lit­tle brighter, in my room, and in my mind.

One Of Those Nights

Hi.

It feels like my glass­es are dirty, but it’s real­ly the sur­faces of my eyes.

There’s this inde­scrib­able desire to be amongst oth­ers, after spend­ing time with myself for so long. I’d like to sit in the mid­dle of a café right now, I think to myself, so I could lis­ten the lay­ers of peo­ple talk­ing. I’d like to be slumped down in a soft library chair, decid­ing which book to take home, with the hushed shuf­fling of pages all around me. I’d like to be walk­ing on the streets of New York, dodg­ing the taxis on 42nd and tenth, walk­ing across the streets with the oth­er pedes­tri­ans.

This is one of those nights.