tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76177291228203252742024-03-14T00:42:19.549-07:00A debutant in Hyena's Clothingegomaniacal and self deprecating in turnsGi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-84547690400860764472014-12-18T20:49:00.001-08:002014-12-19T13:06:15.303-08:00None of this is real.She wasn't mine last week. <br />
I only know her from from the shouts i heard in the hallway, and her nurse's exasperated look when she can't be settled. I know that her tiny frail body body takes nothing to boost up to the top of the bed. <br />
<br />
When we really meet, i say "I'm going to ask you three silly questions." and she tells me her name and where we are. She can't remember the rest.<br />
<br />
She doesn't say much at first. Says she's fine. Nothing else. But i keep making dumb jokes, and i don't let her send me away, and after a little while, there's a look, a tiny glint in the eyes and the beginnings of a smirk on the side of her mouth that the stroke didn't smear. <br />
<br />
I try to make her comfortable. I show her the call bell. When i ask if she needs anything she says no. I say i'll come back and bother her again in an hour and she laughs and says she'll look forward to it. <br />
<br />
Later I bring her some pills. Some juice. More pills. Each time I leave I ask again if she needs anything. She says:<br />
"A million dollars"<br />
"A trip to Barbados"<br />
"A Good looking man"<br />
<br />
I brush her teeth with a little sponge on a stick. Wash her face. She tells she feels human again. She says its been a long time, I brush it off and say something silly in response and i don't let myself think about it. <br />
Later it will break my heart. <br />
<br />
Each time I care for her she compliments me. Says i'm pretty. (debatable). Says I have nice teeth. (a lie). She tries to feed me cookies. These are the only things she has to give, and these compliments come with apologies. She sorry she needs to be cared for. Sorry i am stuck with her. Sorry to waste my time. She's sorry she had to go to the bathroom.<br />
I refuse the apologies. <br />
"Everyone poops" i tell her. "There's even a book about it for children" and she laughs. <br />
<br />
Eventually, she stops trying to make it up to me and at odd moments we talk a little about travel and she tells me a funny story. Its long and can't quite catch all of the words, but i try my best to laugh the right amount at the right times and she believes me and pats my arm with that now satisfied smirk. <br />
<br />
She says i am too kind to her.<br />
"Impossible!" i say.<br />
Again, she insists.<br />
"No", I tell her, this time resolute. <br />
"There is no such thing as too much kindness"<br />
<br />
She wakes up disoriented in the night, and begins to slip back into confusion. By morning the smile is gone and when I ask her if there's anything i can do for her she says "shoot me". <br />
<br />
All my dumb jokes can't bring the smile back, and we are both of us defeated.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-48596238192404463182012-12-30T20:01:00.001-08:002014-12-19T11:01:24.805-08:00DreamThe road through the valley was blocked, choked with crowds of people milling about. We could have picked our way through, shuffling along at a near standstill, mumbling our pardons and apologies for trod-on toes and banged up shins, but I was too impatient to wait. <br />
<br />
"come with me"<br />
<br />
I grabbed his arm, spun back the way we'd come and took off at a brisk run. We circled around, heading up the mountain pass and once we were out of sight I let the speed take me over. My stride lengthened until the polite little hopping steps I'd been using we're eaten up by a long rolling gallop. My arms reached out in front of me, fingers digging into the ground for purchase and hurling me forward, momentum building with each pull. I could feel the boy tugging at my hip, struggling to keep up. <br />
<br />
"RUN!", I snarled, my voice already ragged and rasping through my too wide grin. Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-316684011703203242012-07-29T09:56:00.001-07:002014-12-19T11:01:24.800-08:00A Sunday Smile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD4RqPX1UlqHTVkmD2dKWFq4NuFlyZqW9JqguGk8ifT1E-YuAiEaaNQkQJa_76GMdPEysnifUYQkwx4lvc6R2oYvvC6d8EQJ0Zwak1wBzlgVrLa0GOBMnrzOz_Z0g8g-bXPpIWNYqVLBA/s640/blogger-image--1256554319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD4RqPX1UlqHTVkmD2dKWFq4NuFlyZqW9JqguGk8ifT1E-YuAiEaaNQkQJa_76GMdPEysnifUYQkwx4lvc6R2oYvvC6d8EQJ0Zwak1wBzlgVrLa0GOBMnrzOz_Z0g8g-bXPpIWNYqVLBA/s320/blogger-image--1256554319.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
So I'm blogging from the sprawling comfort of a post drunk laze, on my phone, no less. The full size keyboard is busy streaming Netflix, which we're watching in bed, at 1pm, in our underpants, each of us armed with a mighty cup of strong coffee. <br />
<br />
Things are good here. <br />
We've got some changes coming down the pipe, but without the usual sense of dread and panicky damage control. It's a good feeling to be able to look a challenge in the eye and see an unexpected opportunity for growth and positive change. <br />
<br />
We've got good things lining up for us too, Kris' business is hopping, I've got two weddings lined up to shoot this fall. I'm working locum shifts at the Ottawa Humane Society, which I love, and the job at the Civic seems to have finally solidified into something concrete. It has taken the better part of the summer to happen, but it will be an excellent foot in the door for next summer, not to mention post graduation. <br />
<br />
We're actually adopting that dog I was talking about earlier. It's embarrassing how excited we are to bring him home. I was sure it would be at least a year after graduation before we'd even be able to think about it, so its a really welcome surprise to be a full two years ahead of schedule. Even Kris' parents are excited, despite initially trying to talk us out of it. (parental obligation, nothing personal lol). <br />
<br />
Blue skies is less than ONE WEEK away!! Kristin and Mason will be joining us this year, so that's super exciting, and I'm of course looking forward to seeing all the usual suspects too!<br />
<br />
My parents serendipitously bought a house in Victoria, and there is talk of west coast visits sometime soon. They seem really happy with it, and it must be a really good feeling for them to have established such a firm foothold in their west coast adventure. <br />
<br />
I finally got round to spray painting my little black beater bike. I had a lot of fun doing it, and I'm really pleased with with how it turned out. It's perfectly obnoxious - gold glitter with fluorescent pink forks and black metallic splatter a la Maxx. Despite my intention to keep the beater look I may just have to indulge in a hot pink bike chain to top it all off. Heh. <br />
<br />
<br />
That's all for now, <br />
Talk soon,<br />
Apes.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-940201174939185702012-06-19T00:16:00.001-07:002014-12-19T11:01:24.829-08:00little dudes<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/7368842814/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7225/7368842814_817d68e70b.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/7368842814/">little dudes</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/">gi99lepunch (titanium-white)</a>.</span></div>
Happy plants! Seeing these little dudes first thing in the morning -they live in my shower - never fails to put me in a good mood. :D<br /><br />This one too.... with the super pretty pink-y greens....<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/7183660391/" title="Echeveria by gi99lepunch (titanium-white), on Flickr"><img alt="Echeveria" height="612" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7072/7183660391_bc505c0e96_z.jpg" width="612" /></a>Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-81493377786825602002011-11-03T21:08:00.000-07:002014-12-19T11:01:24.815-08:00MemoryThe days are getting warmer, but the air is still cool and smells like rain and rivers most of the time. Inside the house, my Grandmother and my Aunt are baking sugar cookies. Most will be shaped like bunnies, and eggs, and Easter baskets. Despite being well out of season, a few will be shaped like bats, at my firm insistence, for Batman, of course. <br />
<br />
Too busy for baking, I am outside, climbing the picnic table and gleefully flinging myself off of it again, endlessly entertained and completely immune to self trauma. I could fight bad guys and villains all afternoon and never tire. I am invincible, as only a child can be.<br />
<br />
Tied snugly around my neck is a ratty blue tea towel that has seen better and more dignified days. Its crocheted, covered in pale blue flowers with buttery yellow centers. At one end, the dark blue border is stretched out into two long, irregular points, where it ties under my chin. This is, undoubtedly, my favourite cape.<br />
<br />
I am running down the length of the table, about to hurl myself through the air, when something <i>changes</i>...<br />
<br />
I can't say what it is that catches my attention first. It might have been the way the light seems to disappear from the sky, siphoned away like liquid below the horizon, or it might be the way the clouds seem suddenly oppressively and suffocatingly close, grown thick with shadows and menace. <br />
<br />
My body has frozen. I cannot move. At the end of the table i am stopped for all time, eyes glued to the rapidly darkening sky. All I can do is stare and stare. There are no sounds. The entire world has emptied. A slow panic builds, my guts make lazy loop-de loops, building waves of nausea. My throat closes, to stop them from escaping. My heart hammers in my chest. <br />
<br />
Nothing is right.<br />
<br />
<i>Scream.<br />
<br />
</i><br />
But no sound will come. I try and try but all the sounds are gone and i can not make any new ones. <br />
<br />
I spend an eternity there, in a world gone still.<br />
<br />
Paralyzed.<br />
<br />
Waiting.<br />
<br />
<br />
Suddenly, my body goes limp as I am swept, like a quaking leaf, into the air by a pair of strong, well furred arms. My grandfather has come to collect me. I burst into tears, at once relieved and terrified. He's looking at me, brow wrinkled in puzzlement. I bounce in his arms as he carries me towards the porch, bawling nonsense syllables and sucking air back into my lungs huge ragged gasps. <br />
<br />
I cannot speak it. Cannot tell.<br />
<br />
I never knew what happened.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-68542982253157967602011-03-23T00:38:00.000-07:002014-12-19T11:07:07.566-08:00So,I told my parents about the MRI thing tonight, about what happened at the theatre, and the referral to neurology, and waiting to hear back about when the test will be, and i told them its not really a big deal. That there's no point in worrying until somebody has answers, that it would be silly to get worked up about something that might be nothing. <br />
<br />
I told them all the things i've been telling myself all week. <br />
<br />
But when i told them that i had given their number to my friends in case anything DID happen again, thats when my mom just started to cry and cry and cry.<br />
<br />
There was a thick silence right before the sobs welled up, that tiny space in time where her brain calculated all the long distances between us, and all the terrible great unknowns, and all the what ifs and all the possible outcomes and end points. <br />
<br />
Later, there was a scramble of words, as she tried to fix it, as though she could just Mom the situation into something acceptable for all of us.<br />
<br />
Silence again, when she couldn't.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-73753780268176738742010-05-04T15:17:00.001-07:002010-12-15T23:06:24.859-08:00Stains<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/4579736080/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4024/4579736080_afb62c82ce.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/4579736080/">Stains</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/titanium-white/">titanium-white</a>.</span></div>Oh!<br />
<br />
i love this one!!<br />
<br />
sometimes messing with crap shots is the most fun.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-30615387076987778802010-04-29T18:57:00.001-07:002010-12-15T23:14:51.600-08:00Warm Weather Nocturne - a haiku lullabye Night time Sounds of spring <br />
Cats yowl in full lordosis<br />
Close the window. Now.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-19244280052635601542010-04-18T13:20:00.000-07:002010-12-15T23:18:22.636-08:00after the after party<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">frittering away the afternoon...</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My voice is tired, my smile ragged.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It has been good birthday, celebrated in proper fashion, with much singing and drinking. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And with the finest of peeps. (save a few far flung stragglers who will be slapped once and hugged twice when next they come to ottawa town) </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Its been lovely.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The stick-up kids have been busy in the warm weather, and i found hoards of new art on the way home from breakfast (Stela and Haunty, and some WZRD gng too, of course). As i was shooting, on three separate occasions, three strangers asked me to take their pictures. (which is maybe an indication that the stranger portrait series really needs to get rolling again - i mean, if the universe is practically <i>begging</i> me to continue, who am i to resist?)</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So there's that to keep me busy this evening, with maybe an after dark run, and most definitely a pot of strong tea and a hot bubble bath. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
and hopefully, finally<i> , (finally</i>!) I will tell you all about a dream, so rich it has been distracting me for days, a deliriously vivid snippet of a history that never existed. </span> </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">talk soon.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
<3</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A. </div>Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-64493457995458049422010-04-10T08:54:00.000-07:002010-04-10T08:54:13.273-07:00Bus Haikuon the long long ride to Kanata this friday morning<br />
<br />
<br />
Mylar heart balloon <br />
Crimson in crumpled defeat <br />
Dumb trees grope rudelyGi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-79909933045399527072010-04-08T20:57:00.001-07:002014-12-19T11:05:37.246-08:00see also <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/4425780133/">POTATO PIG</a>. j'adore.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-88744499893831218472010-04-06T18:40:00.001-07:002010-12-15T23:32:03.945-08:00the power of awesome will heal you<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/4498202245/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4054/4498202245_e451d273e7.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/4498202245/">the power of awesome will heal you</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/titanium-white/">titanium-white</a>.</span></div>I made this for a wounded comrade back at Kanata Animal Hospital. Lets just say it was a slow saturday.... lol.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-41658332904476232622010-03-31T18:00:00.000-07:002010-04-21T17:18:02.684-07:00'kuCursed by genetics, <br />
Our children will be mutants.<br />
Hot, Dictator mutants.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Smile becomes grimace<br />
Three grand in dental surg. is<br />
More than i can chewGi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-53957952303774609432010-03-16T18:15:00.001-07:002010-03-16T19:06:14.536-07:00Watch me as i disappear<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/4437540358/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4067/4437540358_4690ca1cc8.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/4437540358/">fader</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/titanium-white/">titanium-white</a>.</span></div>an self portrait born of experiments in back lighting and kamikaze filter layering.<br />
<br />
not baaad for a midnight fit of sleeplessness and boredom.<br />
<br />
i sometimes find it strange to see snapshots of myself, in certain stages of my life.<br />
Curious how they can mask the larger underlying currents, or starkly and startlingly reveal them, depending on - i don't even know what.<br />
<br />
here <br />
the washed out, insubstantial haziness is accurate. I have felt all winter like a dull and lusterless parody of myself, slipping further and further from my own ambitions. Nothing satisfies. I am restless, impotent and irritable, and eternally exhausted. Ghosting. A dumb spectre. <br />
<br />
the smile vexes.<br />
complacent or complicit<br />
as of yet, i do not know.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-17604765992602039942010-02-22T20:56:00.000-08:002010-02-22T20:56:03.718-08:00anticipationI just applied for University.<br />
<br />
I have never been so afraid of rejection in my life.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-56650836012204683662010-02-04T21:27:00.000-08:002011-01-09T22:14:50.440-08:00golemThe last few weeks have been short, and too full of mundane activity; the dull kind of busyness that eats up my spare time, and leaves not much of interest to talk about. <br />
<br />
Today I woke up feeling ragged and washed out; flea bitten and scabby. My eyes are red and bleary, raw from trying to rub them into some kind of focus. <br />
<br />
At work, I force feed the unfortunately named <a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/nix">Nyx</a>. She came to us days ago, barely alive, exhausted by the efforts of taking breath, unable to lift her head, little more than a husk. Beyond repair, we were certain she would die. <br />
<br />
Tonight she has summoned enough energy to hate me. She exhausts herself fighting against the tiny mouthfulls of food i slowly poke into her. She gags and retches, barely able to breathe around swallowing. <br />
<br />
<i>You have to eat.</i><br />
<br />
Her eyes and sinuses are gummed shut with viral slime. I clean the crust off of her eyelashes and wait for her to catch her breath. She wheezes and focuses her eyes on me. <br />
<br />
improvement.<br />
<br />
Slowly, she eats enough to qualify as a meal. She turns her head defiantly as i wipe away the thick ropes of food and drool that hang from her chin. I clean her face and paws, clean her eyes again.<br />
<br />
In my arms i hold a tiny cat shaped golem, made of twigs and paper.<br />
exhausted.<br />
impossibly thin.<br />
and yet she persists. <br />
<br />
Rubbing her chin, i think about my two Skinny Boys being adopted, ( a thing i've been working towards for months) and am shocked by the sudden sharp slap of sadness. I gasp with the pang of the realization of how much i will miss them.<br />
<br />
Fat tears squeeze out of my eyes and plop rudely on the back of Nyx's skinny neck. I blink them back but its too late. I think about the growing list of faces i miss and add my Skinny Boys to it. I think about all the things that keep me awake at night, and all the things i am afraid of. My cheeks burn as more tears slide down them. <br />
<br />
Through my sobs a tiny sound reaches me. Far, far away, at the distant tips of my fingers the faintest of rumbles begins to grow.<br />
<br />
Nyx's eyes are closed.<br />
<br />
Her entire body rattles with an obscenely loud purr.<br />
<br />
i am forgiven.<br />
<br />
<i>persist</i>.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-48458446129524619522010-01-12T23:24:00.000-08:002010-12-17T23:30:35.036-08:00Two Skinny Boys<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Just putting out feelers for people who might be interested in adding a cat to their posse...if you're not but you know someone who might be, please forward this along as you see fit!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">We have TWO handsome boys available who were surrendered to the hospital by their owner.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">They are both neutered and (nearly) up to date on their vaccines (final vaccines are already paid for and will cost YOU nothing! Isn't THAT nice for a a change??! :-P ) They need a little love and fattening, but other than that are in great shape.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">WILFORD is a 5 year old male, brown tabby with white paws and face blaze. He is very handsome with a long coat and, though shy at first, very friendly. He loves having his chin and ears rubbed and will head butt you in appreciation, or do his tippy-toe dance if you really get him going. His fur had to be shaved because of matting, so he looks a bit funny at the moment, but will be pret-teh gorgeous when it grows in again. This boy will likely have a big personality once he makes himself at home!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">THE BOY is an 11 year old,medium haired, black and white male with the most GORGEOUS pale green eyes. He is the more timid of the two and would do best in a home where he is the only cat. (we were told that Wilford used to boss him around quite a bit... poor boy!) He's a little shy, but very very sweet and just needs a little bit of convincing that we mean to spoil him. Check those Peepers!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">If you are interested, please don't hesitate to contact me for more information, OR better still...swing by the hospital and introduce yourself to the boys.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">Thanks for readin'!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">A.</span><br />
<div class="photo photo_none" style="clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="photo_img" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><img class="img" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs192.snc3/19935_265176663904_517593904_3128902_8300472_n.jpg" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; width: 393px;" /></div><div class="caption" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #666666; line-height: 12px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px; text-align: left;">"Did I SAY you could stop??" Wilford can hardly believe my audacity in interrupting a chin scratch to take a silly picture....</div></div><div class="photo photo_none" style="clear: both; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="photo_img" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><img class="img" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs192.snc3/19935_265180423904_517593904_3128914_4408389_n.jpg" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; width: 393px;" /></div><div class="caption" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #666666; line-height: 12px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px; text-align: left;">The Boy with his big green eyes. Ahhh-dorable!</div></div>Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-7413096885772480742010-01-01T16:27:00.000-08:002010-01-01T16:27:00.024-08:00The Cat PianoKittens, <br />
<br />
It has been an awfully weird christmas, and i am delighted to put the year 2009 in its grave. <br />
<br />
Likely 1010 will be all about elbow grease and determination, which admittedly does not sound like much fun, but at least there's <i>some</i> semblance of a plan.<br />
<br />
its not much, but i'll take it.<br />
<br />
<br />
And on a totally unrelated note, and because i am sick to death of christmas, and because i was reminded of it last night in a conversation at the NYE party, and because it is pretty in a great many ways, <br />
here is: <br />
<br />
<b>The Cat Piano</b>.<br />
<br />
J'adore.<br />
<br />
<br />
<object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Uj4RBmU-PIo&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Uj4RBmU-PIo&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object>Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-51573377108839446522009-12-22T21:17:00.001-08:002010-12-17T22:53:57.461-08:00swagger<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/4207268603/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4004/4207268603_e70da09bcb.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/4207268603/"></a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/titanium-white/">titanium-white</a>.</span></div>holy shit, holy shit, holy shit....<br />
<br />
*fans the air excitedly*<br />
<br />
you know when you make a bunch of stuff and you're just sort of like "blaaaaaaaagh....", and then you make one thing that climbs right to the top of the pile, and you look at it, and it stares you right back and shamelessly wrangles and hogties your stupid sheepish insecurities and sacrifices it on an alter of self confidence and cockiness' lovechild... and then you take a sip from the cup and you're like..... "Efff... sometimes i am awesome..."<br />
<br />
and then you start to grin like a jerk but you don't even care...because good is just GOOD and sometimes egomania is warranted...even if i DO say so myself...<br />
<br />
<br />
...<br />
riiight??<br />
you know??<br />
<br />
well... <br />
<br />
i think this is that one...<br />
<br />
xo<br />
<br />
A.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-57041594489665827652009-12-12T00:32:00.000-08:002010-03-19T18:48:52.534-07:00maybeit might be 330 am<br />
<br />
i might have sold some art tonight. <br />
<br />
I might have shot up a burlesque show, after the gallery thing. <br />
<br />
I may have stumbled into a metal show.<br />
<br />
it possible that i drank too much<br />
<br />
and could not find my way out of the car, when i was (Graciously!, Mercifully!) dropped off at home<br />
<br />
and maybe, i might have to work tomorrow...<br />
<br />
<br />
oh kittens! lets hope all the puppies and kitties are healthy tomorrow! <br />
<br />
nothing can get hit by cars! <br />
<br />
*crosses fingers* <br />
<br />
<br />
i am drinky faced. <br />
<br />
that is all.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-51246241129576832762009-12-06T20:05:00.000-08:002010-03-19T18:50:41.219-07:00crush and swell<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">sooo...<br />
<br />
i woke up yesterday feeling disgusting and feckless. Dissociative, detached, disappointed and disappointing.<br />
<br />
Peripheral at best.<br />
<br />
i was going to skip the show, thinking that i just wasn't up for it. feeling like i couldn't be bothered to paint on a party face, to stand in line, to go through the ritual, to disappear in another crowd.<br />
<br />
buuuuut i missed the Shrines the last time they were in town, and i knew i'd regret not going if i skipped out on a Khan show i actually had tickets for.<br />
<br />
So i scrubbed and showered, pulled on a dress and pair of boots, and curled my lashes.<br />
<br />
And kittens, i must say, I'm ever so glad that i did.<br />
<br />
I got to Babylon late, but the place was still mostly empty so i scouted a couch (skeezy, disgusting things they are but we must try not to think about that, my ducks) and drank a Stella, and shared some friendly chatter with a rather nice fellow named Matt, from Saskathchewan. <br />
<br />
Thinking there was only going to be one opener, I hit the bar again after the first act, and made my way to the front of the stage. The floor was filling up, and i wanted to make sure to have a good position staked out for photos. I claimed an amp, front and center, and perched on the corner, scanning the crowd for Mason and Kiiks. I managed to flag them down as they came in and we chatted for a bit as the floor got tighter, waiting for round two and percolating with growing excitement.<br />
<br />
The second act was a snarling psychobilly four piece called Bloodshot Bill that quicklly packed the dance floor and worked the crowd into a frenzy. I snapped a few shots and finished my beer, felt the music pounding all around, and began to dance. A few songs in, someone pushed his way up to the front, right beside me, and shouted a few requests at the stage. It was King Khan. He was all laughs and smiles, loving the music and the frenzy. He danced his ass off, and i did too, and soon we were bumping hips to the beat and shimmying like mad things.<br />
<br />
Well worth the price of admission.<br />
<br />
The fevered pitch only intensified for the main act, although i was sad to have lost my special dancing partner. :-P<br />
<br />
The floor was completely packed with bodies, ribcage to ribcage, pushing and swelling as everyone jockeyed for a good position. I was especially glad to have staked out an amp to anchor myself to, and cheerfully defended it, slowly but firmly digging my elbows into the ribs of those trying to edge a little closer at my expense, playing the same game of dumb as my would be usurpers.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">"Oh sorry! Its a bit tight isn't it?? Yeah...., There's not much room. huh." </span><br />
<br />
served with a nonchalant shrug and a sheepish smile,<br />
<br />
nothing personal. :-)<br />
<br />
<br />
(and that, dear reader, is why the slow elbow is best, in crowds as well as in bed, It seems more happenstance than attack, but remains every bit as uncomfortble if you know where to lodge it effectively)<br />
<br />
The band emerges, and you can feel the crowd press closer. Khan has ditched his pants and sweater for a gold glitter flapper dress with a fox head loincloth and an electric blue bob, and BBQ sports gold glitter tights and a pink turban.<br />
<br />
The music starts and the throng is immediately jolted to life. A living thing gone mad, throbbing and swelling, howling and gnashing, It occurs to me, at this point, that i might be in over my head, after all i have never been much of a pit rat, , but i dig in and hold on, determined not to give up my prized position too easily. The crowd swells so close that the entire front row is pitched up onto the edge of the stage, scrambling to hold their ground. Photos are impossible at this point. If i let go of the amp my feet leave the floor and i begin to drift, and the flailing bodies makes framing an absurd and abstract notion.<br />
<br />
The bouncers look completely lost.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><br />
BBq tells the crowd to fuck off and settle down.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">"this is a rock and roll show, not some goddamned Edgefest bullshit" </span><br />
<br />
I'm completely absorbed in staying upright and protecting my camera. A fight breaks out to my left and the bouncers are forced to wade into the action, They look like sheep at a slaughterhouse.<br />
<br />
Hardly discouraging. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">They play a few slower numbers, trying to ease the crowd down a little, and i am able to snap a few photos. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">Then the torch songs run out, and they return to the irresistible beats that we all have been waiting for. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">Voodoo compulsions that can't be ignored. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">A koan we answer with our bodies. <br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">There's no room for style here, no room for flashy maneuvers, just an outlet for pure energy, an urgent and immediate response. I thrash and grind in what little space i have, gone feral with fierce abandon; pushing back against the crowd when they press too close, like an enraptured porn starlet. snarling with ecstasy. pricklng with bliss. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">I laugh as i find myself dancing Billy Idol style, with a fist held up in front of my face, to block unexpected elbows and other wayward bony projections from the pit. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">And on and on it goes, wave after wave after wave; a crashing call to arms </span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">I come away drenched and delirious, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;">By the end i am panting with exertion, grinning and gasping at once, reveling in that delicious and too-rare state of complete and utter body exhaustion. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"> How lovely, to be so alive. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 100%;"><br />
<br />
</span>Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-30575709922111435442009-11-30T21:59:00.001-08:002010-12-15T23:36:31.710-08:00exhale<div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/4145925646/" title="photo sharing"><img alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2495/4145925646_60b854ba06.jpg" style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/titanium-white/4145925646/">exhale</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/titanium-white/">titanium-white</a>.</span></div>my portraits of strangers series is finally, FINALLY underway. Two years after i started it, i finally took my balls out of my purse and started asking people if i could take their picture, instead of gazing at them wistfully and kicking myself for days after each and every missed opportunity. <br />
<br />
This one made Explore on flickr today, Which i ALWAYS discredit, except, of course, when i am in it. ;-)<br />
<br />
<br />
three cheers for progress and productivity. <br />
<br />
Huzzah.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-11994537784803471732009-11-30T20:33:00.001-08:002009-11-30T21:52:20.172-08:00Take off your coat. Put a song in your throat. Let the dead beats pound all around.<div style="font-family: arial;">Monday nights are golden.<br /><br />My Daddy hits town, we bust out the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fqk9zy-FCtA">Beansprout</a> and the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sSQZC28Q87U">Stella</a>, and we tear it up until my fingers are cramped and curled like the empty, skyward-clutching grasp of a stone-dead sparrow.<br /><br />It mostly sounds awful, i'm sure. Me flinging chords wildly and trying to keep up, eternally shamed by my perpetual shortage of practice since the last lesson; Dadoo carelessly noodling out embellishments and solos, politely waiting for me to catch up and telling me its not awful.<br /><br />the liar.<br /><br />We drink beers and Dr. Pepper. We stuff ourselves with Pho and Pizza.<br />We bombard each other with youtube videos while we eat. Play our <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w4q7I5YnWGs">favourite</a> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UO5ysmjLlaw">tunes</a>.<br />We talk about mum.<br />We play until my brain is stuffed to overflowing, the two of us stifling yawns; until finally we must throw in the hat. Put down the picks. Go home. And crawl off to bed.<br /><br />Wake up the next morning, bleary eyed and underslept.<br /><br />smiling for no good reason.<br /><br />.<br /><br /><br /><br />I wouldn't trade it for the world.<br /></div><br /><script type="text/javascript" src="http://widgets.clearspring.com/o/48f3ef6c29317865/4b149ca6bc73c8cf/48f3ef6c62740582/a35155c1/widget.js"></script>Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-85528173557474571562009-09-04T17:30:00.001-07:002014-12-19T11:25:51.022-08:00Work Crush<title></title><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { size: 8.5in 11in; margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } </style> <br />
--> <div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I have to write this.</div>
<div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm sitting on a train, half starved, sleep deprived, and grinning from ear to ear. </div>
<div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I don't know if its possible to fall in Love, - capital L LOVE, and at first sight, no less – with an entire business but I think I have a giant sized professional crush on Centertown Veterinary Hospital. </div>
<div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I interviewed there today and was absolutely smitten with the warmth of the place, with the level of care, with the way they look after their patients and their patients' people. For the first time in a very long time, it made me feel excited and proud to be a vet tech, and I wish very much that I had found this place sooner, instead of on the cusp between one career and another. </div>
<div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
They are just so <i>goood</i>. </div>
<div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I won't know until later this weekend if I have the position or not. (i'll get a call either way, which is super nice) But i'm sitting here, on this train, trying to nap and I can't do it. I'm just too damned excited. Glowing with the possibility, I've just got this feeling that its all so right, that its my next step, and that I already belong there. </div>
<div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: arial; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A part of my brain sits back and watches these flighty notions flapping against reason like birds against glass, </div>
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<i>Dont get your hopes up, kid. Nothing is 100 percent.</i></div>
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But I don't care.</div>
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I want it. And I want to enjoy the suspense, and the completely punch drunk, unabashedly enamoured crushy goodness of it all. </div>
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<i>Dear Centertown Vet. : </i> </div>
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<i>Do you like me?</i></div>
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<i>Check YES or NO</i></div>
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How deliciously ridiculous.</div>
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I've decided not to entertain (court?) the possibility of disappointment until it is presented, - grudgingly acknowleded like the last scrawny little knock-knee'd kid to be picked for the gym class rugby team. </div>
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I choose cockiness. I chose jocular overconfidence mixed with unabashed adoration. I choose to get my hopes up, <i>fling</i> them, with a slingshot and bottle rockets, to the moon. </div>
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I'll keep you posted, kittens.</div>
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And all of you must keep your toes and fingers crossed.</div>
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A.</div>
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Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7617729122820325274.post-47810871136656777782009-08-23T18:09:00.000-07:002009-08-23T20:29:52.906-07:00Crazy ArmsMy dad came home.<br /><br />He drove nearly 5000 km from the west coast, through the rocky mountains, across the great flat praries, all the way back to the teeny Ottawa valley he has always thought of as "home".<br /><br />I'm so glad he did.<br /><br />And maybe, if i wait, my mother will too.<br /><br />maybe.<br /><br /><br />He picked me up this evening for a catch up visit over dinner and a movie. We were supposed to meet up much earlier in the afternoon, but i had fallen asleep with the ringer turned off on my phone, and did not wake up until well after one. I probably needed the sleep, and he had a lot of friends to catch up with after getting back, and anyways thats just how we roll. Something about apples and their respective distance from trees, if you will.<br /><br />He buzzes up to my apartment, which he has never seen before, and we greet each other with great and crushing hugs that are long overdue. We've already missed the first of our two movie choices for the evening, so i give him the ten cent tour and we drift out into the evening, still in no great hurry for movie number two.<br /><br />"There she is!" He gestures with a flourish to an ancient, boxy silver van, "the old caravan, still kicking!"<br /><br />He tells me all about driving through the mountains, praying against breakdown and how the old girl held up just fine, in spite of constant 30 degree inclines through the rockies, and a nearly bald tire on the front left. He's pleased by the trip, but will sell the van before its transmission dies, and while the mileage is still low.<br /><br />As I slide into the passenger seat, what i remember about this van is winding down the Pacific Highway in the morning, on the way to the beach with a wetsuit on the back seat, and a surfboard crammed up the hatch, listening to Jerry Lee Lewis sing "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YM88WfQM1YI&feature=related">Crazy Arms</a>" while the mountains creep by outside. Singing along, driving one handed and trying not to spill my coffee on the on the corners...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>I drink it all in.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I was young then...</span> I find myself thinking. <span style="font-style: italic;">So young.</span><br /><br />Christ.<br />It was only a year ago.<br />Am i really so tired?<br /><br /><br />We make our way to the Mayfair theatre in time to catch most of Woody Allen's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=guLFLWYlQxU">The Purple Rose of Cairo</a> , then head to the market for burgers at Chez Lucien.<br /><br />I'm relieved to hear that my dad sounds good. I worry about him being away from mum. (and about her, being away from him) Its a weird situation, this apart-ness.<br /><br />He tells me he'll be teaching music lessons and fixing up the house again, and he's already lined up a few playing gigs in the few days since he's been back and he tells me about them as we drink our beers. We talk a little bit about nursing, and the things i think i'll like about it. He laughs at me for still having my old junker of a car in the parking space behind my building.<br /><br />I pull out my camera and snap a few pictures of him from across the table. I examine the display images, furrow my brow, and scold him and tell him to sit up straight.<br /><br />He laughs and tells me he's an old man now.<br />And somehow, as i'm focusing through the lens, and just at exactly the same time as he says it, i see it.<br />For the first time ever. I can see it.<br />I see all the wrinkles in my dads forehead. I see all the laugh lines around his eyes. And i see that his beard has now turned completely snowy white. <br /><br />Suddenly he has <span style="font-style: italic;">aged.</span><br /><br />and i begin to cry.Gi99lepunchhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08692828297624493492noreply@blogger.com0