Urban Intimacy

Down Arbutus, before Second, there's an apartment facing west with mid century modern lamps, and a mid century man. He sits in his corner chair, illuminated by the light, reading the paper during the evenings. I like to see him there.

On Broadway, between Fraser and Main, I saw a man as he went to the bathroom. It was 8:30, and still bright. I stepped over his stream of pee, so that I might walk all my way over to the next bus stop to allow him some tiny speck of privacy. And because I was grossed out.

I know some of my neighbours so well in some particularly intimate ways, but in most senses, I don't know them at all. I know the details of their sleep, their snoring patterns, perhaps only as well as a lover would. But I know nothing about their career goals, or whether they prefer to use butter or margarine.

Starting and then stopping

Remind your dear self that you are well loved.  Fortunately, you know some of the world's greatest. Be thankful for those rocks that show up in your mailbox at the precise moment you need them to.* And those other rocks. Your brothers, your mother, your best friends. Those reliable few. Those irreplaceable some. Those real keepers. Those ones who are real ones. Who answer their phone on the first ring because they're your real sugar angels. Your plum cakes. Who ask you to cook buttery pasta with them at the exact moment you are starved, and are in need of nothing more than buttery, eggy, really great pasta. Remind your dear self that your self is dear. Drink down that bottle of wine and enjoy your sourdough. You are wonderful and great and I really believe you're super duper. And everything that is the worst perhaps hopefully maybe makes room for something better maybe somehow. And who are we without hope? The lower-case "l" lord knows how hopeful I have been, and how hopeful I remain. Darn hopeful. In the best way. Here is to feeling okay when you're feeling everything but okay. And, more importantly, here's to those wonderful people who make you feel that way. To my friends and family who are impossibly great, thank-you, you darn shits, for being so overall lovely and amazing.

*My dear ma' sent me a great couple of rocks in the mail but I am without camera now. You will just have to come to Vancouver and see for yourself how stellar they are.

Pascal

Learns to catch the ball in his mouth.

Today I repotted a cactus and got pricked. I went to a store called "Step Back" to look for a new wood crate to put said cactus upon. These were Tuesday's little mockeries of me and my vote. As I walked home, I passed by the NDP office on Broadway just in time to see an employee clear his desk into a cardboard box, and another take down the last sign in the window. 

(I have a very clever friend named Brodie who has (finally) started a blog which will deal in part with federal politics, and in part with whatever floats Brodie's boat. I recommend y'all read it.)