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.)

BCing you soon

That time in the middle of the pond part way up that mountain watching my brother slide down like a penguin from the snowy top.

Essay writing is a joke:

Q: How many words is twenty pages?

A: Two!

Unlimited Long-Distance

Scott calls me and he says to me, "You're gonna like this one." He's obviously pumped about it. He asks, "Where does the king keep his armies?"

I think on it and I say, "I don't know. Where?"

"Up his sleevesies."

Also, another rock:

A priceless mineral of mine.
(Calcite with an "s" is especially rare and especially special)

The second story window

What a pleasure it is to read for pleasure. Because I've realized I waste time anyway, always, I'm going to waste it better. Sometimes I forget I like books. They're what's gotten me into this mess, after all. I also like images, art stuffs, galleries. Isn't this a novel idea? I think so.

Invigil8

Those slight movements a person makes to adjust her pen to the paper before it hits it. It can take almost 30 seconds, and then, then, Ah, there that girl goes. Whether the person was debating on a  "dear" or "to", or whether she was just wondering what type of script to use. She hovers. That pen's silence. I like the way that looks. That wondering what or how to write before the writing begins. And when it begins it begins swiftly, like she hadn't even ever hesitated in the first place.