everyday is d. day

fat and not happy about it

there's a guy who sells hotdogs near the future shop for over $5. I couldn't believe my own eyes. He extolled the virtues of all the fresh and wholesome ingredients. I took a picture of it, now i just have to figure out how to squeeze the picture out of my blackberry. that just so wouldn't fly at church and wellesley. no one has that much change to spare after a big night out!  i had one in front of the art gallery that had such a dizzying array of price points that i had a serious misunderstanding with the vendor and in the end i had to state with a sort of aggressive firmness that i was paying $3 and no more because that is what i wanted and that is what the menu stated was the price.

myself, no more eating hotdogs for me, or anything trashy. all that eat drink and be merry on the trip across has padded me out a lot more than i like. i've got a big of a muffin top that forms over the band of my comfiest jeans. it's got to go. i got my wii, now i have to use it like nobody's business. and some daily stomps around the neighborhood are definitely in order.

fractured

i'm feeling light-headed, woozy, weak and vaguely ill, but not nearly as bad as i did yesterday, though there were a few moments i wished my body would simply betray me and collapse in a heap, so i could get myself home and back to bed. i dealt with the breakthrough pain as recommended by some others, which is to whack hard back at it, with an extra dose or two of regular, mind-arresting tegretol. i've been taking the time-release version of it lately; enough to stun an even larger animal, but apparently not enough. i'm not sure how much stock i put into this whole "time release" thing. i am assuming it's been working, but now i'm not so sure. now, back in when-will-the-other-shoe-drop land, i am feeling anxious and wary. this just plain sucks.

I got on the streetcar and sat at the very back left seat facing front, knees canted to the left to give me more legroom. as we rumbled along I stared out the window--sans iPod once again--a funeral procession passed me by. I wondered a bit when I noticed a police car pass moving slower than they ever do. it always make me sad even though I don’t know who the person was or the people who have lost someone they cared about.  the day seemed to echo the sentiment, grey and gloomy.

on the way up to the office i craned my head up to engage in that favourite elevator pastime of staring anywhere but at the person sharing it i saw that apparently it’s 18 in new york. don’t they say it’s lovely in new york in the spring? i do wish i could go again. s. doesn’t have much desire to visit any US destination, but especially New York. i'm not exactly sure what his mad-on is, because he appreciates architecture and history as much as i do.

hot and steamy and not too dreamy

be careful what you ask for.
i was speakin' with the weather gods there last week,
doing my best to commune with them. see if they could
finagle some more serious sunshine for this bit of time off.
got it. in spades. i don't want to complain but it's a wee bit uncomfortable.
i like the heat, don't get me wrong, but i don't like being cooked.
the fan beats out a constant tempo above my head, pushing the dense air around
as i make attempt at sleeps in the heat. i've taken to practically living in my bedroom
when i'm not out. it's the cooler room of the two. the one without the pilot light.
makes sense, i guess.
i'm going to play tourist again today.
haven't decided where i'll go just yet, but that's part of the fun.
maybe riverdale farms, maybe st. lawrence market, maybe the islands--toronto, that is.
get there by way of the shady side of the street.

march

i'm finally home. didn't think i'd ever make it. i hoofed it the first 45 minutes and dogged it the latter. i didn't think it was quite as far as it was, but i wasn't surprised because i've made this navigational judgement error before. that time i thought my destination was queen when it really was college. only today i thought i was going to college when i was actually headed to bloor (and bathurst).

i was committed to walking, and once i was doing it, i was doing it. only one streetcar passed me, packed enough to reduce temptation even further. i was suffering some sort of low pressure syndrome and i felt light headed most of the way. i thought it would lift as i began to walk, but instead it only got worse. when i stepped up the pace to speed the trip by faster, i thought i might just pass out, so i kept it steady and tried to occupy my mind with other small tasks until i got where i was going. about 5 blocks to my destination i was struck suddenly with the urge to go to the washroom. i knew that a few blocks away was a starbucks; the only place close i could think of with a bathroom. it occurred me how little access there are to toilets in that part of the city where there isn't a mall in sight. i figured the cost of a cuppa was worth the price to use decent facilities and thought perhaps the shot of caffeine would help to perk me up. it really only helped to intensify my pounding head. 

i got to my destination and once i started out again i had to force myself to continue with walking the rest of the way home.....left foot right foot....i didn't t stop because i worried i'd lose momentum.  like earlier today in the stairwell. 27 flights of stairs from ground to our floor. this, another one of my "exercise by default" brainwaves. i've devised this notion of incorporating exercise into my daily life through activities i'm already doing or that need getting done. lately i am more keen on the notion because i altogether lack the energy once home and can't seem to get my lazy ass out of bed early enough to get exercise out of the way in the morning. god knows i need it, with sluggish metabolism my new enemy. once in the stairwell i am committed to ascending all the way up, because the doors are locked along the way. this isn't entirely fact, because the cross over floor doors are open, but it would seem like such a cop out. so up i go. 8 minutes approximately. i count the steps--20 to each flight. around about 540 steps in all. i was completely exhausted by the effort. seems ridiculous. i can say one thing though, those gym stairclimbers have nothing on the real thing.

an inconvenient reality

i slathered on the sunscreen and put on a hat and took a stroll into the sun, or rather the warm. i now avoid the sun. especially since i discovered even more splotches developing on my face even after only mere, prudent minutes exposed to standing in the sun. 20 degrees felt like a hundred under its direct gaze. i couldn't take it. my newest and latest physical anomaly is that my eyes water and run. constantly. it probably looks like i'm crying. i'm dabbing my eyes only to stop my mascara from running. now i don't want to get all woe is me, but while i'm toting around these very physical afflictions--yes, not life-threatening, but incredibly bothersome, noticeable and life impacting--who is getting all the gravy? this girl walked past me yesterday; whiter than the average piece of copy paper, with bare arms and bare head. if i gambled i might say she eschewed sunscreen too. i envied her that she could be so carefree.  and it certainly didn't look like her eyes were shedding rivers of tears like gigantic sad eyes.

up the dingy stairwell from the back door and into my second floor hallway, the smell of mothballs pervades and overwhelms. it's recent and persistent. when it first assailed my nostrils, i figured someone had just dug something out and the smell would dissipate soon, but that was over a week ago, and it has been cloying our end of the hallway ever since. if anything the odor has intensified. since we don't have storage i have no idea where the offending item(s) could have come from, but it's got my mind whirring. too many detective shows perhaps. i suspect, if anyone, the culprits are the old couple around the corner in 206. only because i don't think people (kids these days) even know about mothballs and would never swathe their clothing with the unadulterated, harsh chemicals they contain.

eco-me

i'm slowly modifying my life to become a more ecologically friendly human. i don't know how far i'll get up the evolutionary scale, but i've made a start.  i got those fluorescent energy efficient bulbs--even though it's come to be known they might spontaneously burst into flame, or at least get so hot, melt down and set something else on fire. i am shifting to (expensive) eco friendly washing up liquids and laundry detergents and biodegradable garbage bags. i run less water. (i would say skip recycled tp, it is not particularly human friendly.) i continue to recycle, as i always have; opting for electronic bills into my email instead of paper into my mailbox.  every time i go out to the recycling bins i spend time sorting through other people's leavings, taking the bottles out of the paper bin and pulling paper out of the containers bin and putting them where they're meant to be. it's sort of like dumpster diving without the eureka moments. it's a pet peeve that drives me crazy. if you are going to make the effort to do something, do it properly. one day i found a whole bag of bottles in the garbage! what is the deal with that? the garbage bins and recycling are practically equidistant to the back door. it would it have been just as easy to trot it in the direction of the recycle bins, a few short steps, but instead expediency and lack of diligence trumped common sense.

i finally put together the portable washer i bought online and brought home a few weeks ago. it is water and energy efficient and ecologically friendly, since it is human powered and uses a tiny amount of detergent and mere quarts of water. the maiden wash was last night. i was skeptical of the small canister's ability to truly hold a loadful, but its size is deceptive. i was a little gentler with it and didn't cram it to capacity like i do the machines downstairs, but it did hold a half blue ikea-bag of clothes. the procedure is a bit sloppy and damp, but somewhat therapeutic. it takes all of 2 minutes hand cranking for a full load; good exercise for the arms to boot.

take this

exclamation point. definitively. i wonder if this was intentional. i'm sure it was. the landscape shrouded in white and you-can-see-your-own breath weather is somewhat of a faded memory now, but this image remains. surprisingly this is one of only a handful of images i captured this year. it makes me aware how few i have in contrast to last winter or especially the winter before, maybe i just avoided going out when it was particularly crisp. maybe my infatuation with all things toronto is over. i was bound to take it for granted eventally.

and i am taking inspiration from this. if i only take one picture and post it. if i write down just a small cluster of words; one thought  however unformed.  it's what i've got to do. today, this is the contribution. not exactly high art, but it is filling the space. today. it is the installment du jour. it amuses me.

technobother

i finally bought an external harddrive the other day. i really only bought it because i need to back up my system so i can take my sick computer in to have a looksee. i don't want to potentially lose a lot of irreplaceable material, like when my old computer was stolen. i really should have one. so i'm standing in compusmart, surveying the selection and doing some futile comparison shopping. having a mac it is really just a choice between a and b, and as i stand there a man in a oversized outlandish fake fur coat joins me and we strike up a conversation. he kind of looks like that guy from jacksoul. with a face that looks like it's been carved from the finest of mahogany.  we talk some about partitioning and he says something about :c drive and i know he's a pc guy, but then he goes on to say he's a photographer. what's a creative guy doing with a pc? i'm thinking all of this while answering him and glancing at the boxes on the shelves. hey, i'm partitioning too! i'm beginning to think he is going to follow me home like a lost puppy when he suddenly just turns and is gone without so much as a wish good luck. strange these brief encounters. at least i know he's human. not one of those automatons that snaps open their newspaper in my face and obliviously treads on my feet on the subway. in some way it is heartening.

i'm still discovering images and documents i lost in that fiasco. i try not to be bothered that the cop never called me back. not even to reply to my few messages with a  "sorry lady, give it up, it's long gone". 

i return home with my newly acquired hardware dangling in the bottom of a ludicrously long bag. i hook it up and get.....nothing. there is reference to a user guide that wasn't in the box. the one i got a stern warning to read it before i did anything. i call up acom the next day and i am promised that the device is both pc and mac compatible, just that this one doesn't seem to work. i pack it all up to return. i am not going to belabour the point, but this seems to happen to me a lot. i'd rather just do something once and get it done than run through the exercise twice.

i realize somewhere on my way to work that i don't have my bank card. i can't return this thing (or buy another) without it.  on the trip home the train is surprisingly full. not far from me a couple of women sit, not talking to each other, chewing gum in concert. they are clearly mother and daughter. their profiles are virtually identical; the both wear glasses of a similar style and each is carrying a purse that corresponds to the other. it's a little eerie, actually. as my eyes study them i wonder if my mom and i might have ever gotten to that place where we could comfortably be in each other's presence enough to do something as mundane as shopping at the mall in the middle of the day. maybe they were travelling? together? once they step off at queen i retreat back into my music. i've tripped over some oldies-but- goodies i haven't heard in a long while and it lifts my spirit. drama and trauma at work. i'm somewhere caught in the middle of the maelstrom. my head is pulsing, splitting. i feel weak in the face of all this negative energy. i'm defending myself the best i can but i know i've lost. it doesn't matter.

on the way back i slide into a forward facing seat next to the window. the seat is still warm from the person who just left it. beside me is a newspaper. the woman in front of me notices a toque under the newspaper. while she handles it; gently folding it in half, she asks the men around us if they want it. she doesn't say anything to me. it has generated a lot of conversation.  i can't really hear the it but turn my walkman off for a moment out of curiosity. it seems my seat formerly belonged to a man from colombia who had spun her the history of his life. it was intriguing and interesting she said, especially to get a different perspective of someone who is from a place you know nothing about save for what the movies and tv show you. she was dressed in varying shades of purple, swathed in a lavender wrap. i wished for a moment that i had something so airy and playful. i resolved that next year i would opt for color over black. i'm tired of its practicality and restrained neutralness. sometimes it makes me  feel funeral and bland.

i also resolved to buy tokens since tickets force me to wait behind all manner of leisurely people when i am in a hurry to get somewhere. yes, tokens it is. or better yet. get organized enough to walk.

riz and sprung

the old guy was there in the alley this morning. standing up against the building like he was waiting for something. he greeted me with "spring is coming, it's getting warmer."  he never says much, but he generally says something. sometimes he calls me miss. i like that. we're on nodding terms now. we always acknowledge each other. i really should ask him his name. can't go on calling him the old guy.

he's right, it is getting warmer and suddenly. the temperatures rocketed to positive double digits overnight, melting all but the hardiest of snow patches.  it has revealed various dingy shades of  grey and brown landscape along with assorted detritus --carelessy tossed-- that was hidden by the snow. the city looks sodden and filthy, set against the backdrop of the dreary grey.

glitter

it’s the first day of spring today and the coldest one we’ve had in awhile. the weather gods were coddling us. the lion is still roaring. i bundled up against the cold, sighing, reluctant but resigned. it’s a 4 layer+ day. toqued and scarved, wearing sunglasses to guard against the glare, i headed out into the day. on the street, i pulled off my toque, following the lead of many already on the street. if it got to be too much i could always put it back on, but i felt ridiculous in all that paraphernalia. i’m done with the rigamarole that winter creates. i just want to dash out the door with my bag on my back, walkman in my ears. i chose to wear a baby pink scarf purchased during one of those expensive forays for essentials in shoppers drugmart on saturday past. it was all of $7 less 20% and came with a toque and tiny gloves. i really don’t need another scarf, but the colour drew me. new baby girl pink. once I touched it to look for a price i  was sold. the smooth of the artificial yarn slid under my fingers seductively. this would not be scratching at my neck to share with me its warmth. pink is an instant tonic, infusing a blush of to my skin that makes me feel more alive. it’s one of my favourite colours, though i rarely wear it anymore. it seems too girlish. it’s unlikely i will every wear the trio all at once. it seems like so perversely....pink.

as i stood at the corner of church and wellesley waiting for the light to change,  my gaze turned upward to the light standard. i stood there admiring its profile against the blue of the sky like i’d never seen it before, which is partially true. it was only on the weekend that i noticed the curved and voluptuous flanged shades and the graceful arcs of metal that supported them. beyond the fixture was the sky. the contrast of it reaching into the unfathomably intense azuline, made it appear almost cartoonishly surreal. i could have stood there are all day with my neck craned to the sky, so it seemed. I was lost for a bit.  i shook myself back and crossed the street. the light flashing at me a countdown to hasten me across.

today i pulled out my book on the train. i carry one all the time banging against my side, but i never crack it. i got a chance to read about 10 pages. the trip isn’t very long, only about 10 minutes, give or take. usually i don’t bother, since it seems so futile, but this book has me rapt and engrossed. the first paragraph of the second part of the book begins abruptly with the sparest of sentences. it is stripped bare of any niceties. it leaps off the page, a simple statement of fact that the young boy of the writer of the story dies. it might not seem so earth shattering, but the reader has just come to know the boy better. who, at the mere age of 10, is so sure of the path he will take in life; of his hopes and dreams. we have glimpsed at him with his subdued elan; somewhat envious of his obvious talent and ability. i have to choke back an audible sob, blink against bursting into tears. they welled close to the surface as i continued reading. why?why?! i almost missed my stop. the boy in the story was named matt and as he was described he reminded me in many ways of my own  matt of those golden days, when he was a young boy. it felt as if the death of this boy wrenched a bit of my own son away from me. all i know is that the response was immediate and almost overwhelming. usually i am able to disassociate myself more, as the spectator who is there as a witness, but uninvolved.