Showing posts with label the spoken word. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the spoken word. Show all posts

December 31: Miiine

1. Free potatoes, rice and peas to go with our falafels.
2. Text messages from all over sending happy wishes.
3. Little Lukas at the kitchen table, offering me his candy cane ice cream, over and over. ‘Julia [insert developing language here] try miiine?’ End that with a huge grin! I cross to the other side of the table to be fed a Thomas-the-Tank spoonful. I return to my side. Repeat. Each time with a grin bigger than the last.

December 27: Joke

1. Winning another battle in the paper war at home!

2. ‘Stalin's ghost appears to Putin in a dream, and Putin asks for help running the country. Stalin says, ‘Round up and shoot all the democrats, and then paint the inside of the Kremlin blue.’ ‘Why blue?’ Putin asks. ‘Ha!’ says Stalin. ‘I knew you wouldn't ask me about the first part.’’

3. A real estate professional took the time - over an hour - to patiently listen, and to answer my questions. [I'm so glad he's not a lawyer.]

Bonus: Listened

Three people listened to me today:

1. My brother
2. Ms. Sharon
3. My brother (again)

December 17: 3:00

1. Finished cleaning the house (3am).
2. Picked up my abandoned phone (3pm).
3. Continued cleaning the house (3am).

December 13: Duprees

The Corporate Party:

My dinner companion shared her beef with me. (I always order salmon because it's ostensibly healthier, but as soon as beef is set on the table, I am like the family puppy.) That is my 1, 2, 3-in-one.

The Creative Party:

1. On telling the organizer I was a ‘guest of a guest’ – this was true – she replied that she appreciated my honesty, let me stay and even gave me a drink ticket.

2. A storyteller named Roger met Julia and Neil, whereupon they – all three possibly Duprees – voted on naked business cards and told each other stories.

3. At the end of the night, this to me from the remaining guests: ‘Hi, we're a bunch of straight guys and we just wanted to tell you that we totally looove your shoes.’

December 11: The FB

1. Facebook: Izzy is a real woman with a real job. Who takes my calls in the middle of the day to listen to – of all things – my aliases. All the cool names get rejected. I beg her to listen to a few more (‘is this too porny?’) – and she actually does, even though she has real work to do.

2. Non-Facebook: My first swim in a saltwater pool.

3. Facebook: Is it possible to spend two hours on the FB at work? Oh, it is possible to spend a lot more than two hours! Just a theoretical supposition.

December 4: Brandy

3. In a freezing cold office over a kitchen counter, leaning up against a running dishwasher for hot, steamy comfort. It almost felt as good as taking a shower.
2. In an idle morning over cream of wheat, chatting with Vivian.
1. In an unexpected moment over a pile of papers and laundry, receiving some very good news from a woman named Brandy.

November 29: Yellow

1. Good: Got a lot of good work done.
2. Better: Then got even more work done.
3. Best: After the work was done, the pleasure of being sandwiched between four teenaged boys on the subway. Yes, I do mean that. It was remarkably entertaining. Every sentence started with ‘Yo’ - as in ‘Yo, check out the Yellow DJs!’

What is a Yellow DJ? Yo, that would be the construction workers in the subway tunnels.

November 27: Privileged

1. to be imparted valuable perspectives from Canada's aboriginal community,
2. to hear a speech by Stephen Lewis, former UN Special Envoy for HIV/AIDS in Africa,
3. to spend an afternoon in a sauna and spa, followed by a 90-minute nap.

December 1 is World AIDS Day.

November 20: Passcard

Random 1. It was quite warm outside, so I biked (again).
Random 2. A girl at work swiped me in with her passcard.
Random 3. Leftover mini-cheesecake, coffee bean on top.

AND my brother called me tonight. Myliu, broliuk!

November 18: Extraas

It's an official Me Day!

1. I sleep in because I can.
2. I call NYC because I can.
3. I eat the whole tub of Haagen-Dazs Extraas Caramel Cone Explosion ice cream because I can.

November 16: Senses

Coming to mine.

1. Inside the taxi, smell of salami (nose) followed by being truly heard (ears) over a delicious cup of tea (mouth). Followed by smiles (sight) and a hug goodbye (touch).

2. On a street corner, sipping my tea (taste) and taking phone calls (hearing), someone I know steps out of his office for a smoke (smell) whereupon we catch up on outstanding business. Followed by a handshake (touch) and direct eye contact (sight).

3. Lay eyes on a head-to-toe down coat (sight) and snuggle up in it (touch). In the presence of that brand-new smell (nose), get some great outdoor gear advice (ears) before unwrapping a fresh package of spearmint gum (mouth).

BONUS:

On discovering my two new coats are significantly cheaper in the States (anger), call an online retailer to ship to Canada (hope). Discover that many brands cannot be shipped outside the USA (outrage). An American friend agrees to accept the coats and forward them to me (delight). Savings: $450 (glee). Canadians, revolt!

Ačiū, Ingrida.

November 15: Totally!

1. Overheard.

‘I love your cane!’
‘Thanks! $23 at Shoppers Drug Mart.’
‘It is so pretty!’
‘I know. It was my lucky day!’

2. Said.

‘I'm joining a gym tomorrow!’
‘Me too!’
‘When?’
‘I don't know – but I will!’
‘How exciting!’
‘I know!’
‘Totally!’

3. Read.

‘Both optimists and pessimists contribute to our society. The optimist invents the airplane and the pessimist the parachute.’ British novelist G.B. Stearn

November 14: Wedding

1. Compassion. My former boss returned my call quickly. [I am grateful.]

2. Compliment? I thought I recognized someone on the subway. I looked at him funny, then shook my head and explained that he looked familiar. He said, ‘I wish I was.’ [I am flattered.]

3a. Conversation. Email chat with a friend in Brazil, who invited me to her wedding next summer. [I am delighted.]

3b. Conversation. Email chat with an old school mate. Shoutout to Oliver: Good luck with your thesis work! [I am proud.]

And not to be unappreciated on this most mid-November of days:

4. Currency. Unlike some at work, my pay was deposited into my bank account. [I am relieved.]

November 8: Calls

1. Re-Call: After falling asleep to a meditation CD (one track was titled ‘developing a loving kindness’), vivid dreams and self-awareness.

2. Wake-up Call: J and J, two friends, meet as colleagues and call me together via speaker phone from their office.

3. Call of the Wild: Hot-diggity-dog! Partying with Americans and Japanese, including a photo shoot with all thems all.

November 2: Eyeballs

(Way beefore the film. Free brownie muffins and drinks at a local bank. Could these be the city's best-kept complimentary breakfast secrets?)

A. During the film. ‘I lost my cousin to Italian Vogue.’

BEE. After the film. Making shadow puppets on the stage. ‘Look! The little dots on the movie screen make up a big speaker!’

C. Way after the film. Shop clerk to my nephew: ‘If you look too much with your fingers, you will grow eyeballs on your fingertips.’

October 30: Minutes

Minutes well-spent:

1. Josh Rachlis's Terry Cloth (11 minutes)
2. Anita Renfroe's William Tell Overture for moms (3 minutes of Momsense)
3. Josh Rachlis's Marriage Proposal (3 minutes)

October 15: Meeting

1. Meeting of the minds: kitchen table collaboration.
2. Meeting of acquaintances: restaurant dialogues.
3. Meeting of the hearts: old classmates catch up.

Bonus: Lessing

‘When you look at my life, you can go back to the late 1930s. What I saw was, first of all, Hitler, he was going to live forever. Mussolini was in for 10,000 years. You had the Soviet Union, which was, by definition, going to last forever. There was the British empire – nobody imagined it could come to an end. So why should one believe in any kind of permanence?’

Doris Lessing, 2007 Nobel Prize Winner (Literature)

October 9: Chili

1. Urination: I have a beautiful new bathroom!
2. Consideration: I was asked whether I had any ‘philosophical objections’ to meeting for a coffee at Starbucks.
3. Salvation: I found a can of chili in my empty kitchen.