I don't really know where to begin or continue from, except that honey-poached peach slices from the boys' mead-making night is a delicious taste to start nodding off with.
I almost fell asleep reading until my body decided it didn't want to do that, and my brain had no choice but to follow suit.
Meeting Ford again today, neither of us piss-drunk this time, was a sheer delight. I don't have other words for it, not in any of my languages.
Meeting fordlet and having him chew on my fingers and giggle the way Vincent does at THE UPSIDE DOWN GAME was a breath of pure happy, and I'm quite looking forward to more of that.
Swapping chinese vs indian tricks, chinese food being Ford's cleanoutthefridge generic gesture while anything with a curry in it is mine, poking at plants and sitting on the grass on the floor on the carpet and just prattling until it was time to leave
Cf was right. Ford is just a bowl of wonderful, and any other adjectives I try to throw in there are going to sound cheap in my mouth in comparison.
On the way home an overly wiry young man with sun-blonde hair commented on the little blue ring clenched in my fingers, asking if I was a rock-climber.
I explained that I'd only just started and that I was still having trouble envisioning my entire body weight dangling from six fingers.
(this is where in my head's ear I hear Dana's incessent interpolation of "remember, three points of contact three points of contact")
He proceeded to dangle rather impressively from the overhead bar and demonstrate that it is possible to heave HIS (minuscule) weight about on three fingers.
Larry and Mr. Pyke both seemed to enjoy pointing out that this is the Torontonian getting hit-on-on-the-Subway (must remember not to call it m�tro) experience.
Hey, nobody touched my butt, and somehow I'm willing to believe that it wasn't the miniature muscle-building equipment giving off the impression that I'm all tough-and-rumble that dissuaded them either.
Walking home from the Subway I passed fresh-this stand and market-that stand and repertoire theatre and polish bakery and when I stopped in for poczki I saw a bottle of carrot-wild-strawberry juice
just like I used to drink for breakfast,
in Poland.
When the woman behind the counter saw my eyes light up in recognition, she asked me where I was from.
Without thinking of Montreal or Paris or countless other zip codes I said "Llodz".
There was a poster on a wall on the street that took me three minutes to read and I've already forgotten how to spell the words in polish but it said
"No one will ever be able to staunch my song".
I have a job interview with Geekslut's company in Montreal on Friday, and I'm terrified.
I don't want to go back. I'm not ready for Montreal. I like so many things here, and I want to still be wandering.
But my stubbornness will only take me past responsibility so many times, like when it made me skip Waterloo University to stay in Montreal for a guy.
I'm looking at the job market and seeing my resum� turn meaningless in the eyes of companies looking for standardized techies.
I'm looking at Gaetan, the guy heading up the interview, remembering how he explained an entire universe to me in the hallway at Gemplus when I'd asked him in passing what the "R" in the pem algorithm stood for.
I'm looking at the job description, and it has the word SSL in it and that word always has and always will make me drool.
I'm looking at the backyard that I so desperately want to see in bloom in the spring, well, except that it's dark out and I can't see it right now
and I'm terrified.
Because quite honestly, when I scream, I'm not hearing any echoes.
During the day when I wander willy-nilly up strange streets, I see the sun glint a thousand beautiful ways and I run into and over a thousand beautiful reasons, Ford and Strawberry-carrot juice
and in the evening
I look at the University that doesn't want me
the job market that might just be bad enough off to charr my chances
and I look at the recycling bins and wonder how soon it will be before I am promising to never forget them, the way I am already forgetting precious habits from Paree.
I don't know. And I can't hear anything.