aya!

last day of work before vacations. mostly correcting reports and billing - which is what i'd rather not have to do. at least, i only have a couple of hours of it per month and then i'm done!

keyword of the day: positivity.

my mother just phoned to inform me that my bestfriend from childhood (and first crush!) just had a baby.

i remember summers spent outside by the pool, playing softball on the street, eating mc cain fries with vinegar and way too much salt.

simple times, before c-sections, weird career moves and getting a house up in saguenay-lac-saint-jean with your military boyfriend.

before things would have / could have / should have been different.


(oh, i also remember being stubborn. but that's another story. which is unfortunately sometimes more present than past.)

i'm having an epiphany of sorts. ok, i know, what's new. it seemed to make sense to write it down, though. because what's written exists, if only virtually.

---

i remember one day in fourth grade, we were being particularly mischevious in gym class. the teacher, who taught us gym through all the grades, really did not know what to do with us. he had us sit for a while and turned off the lights. which only made us giggle and murmur to each other. of course, it did not take long before the murmurs turned to outright screaming and quarreling.

and we were back to square one.

anyways, he went and got our regular teacher, mrs c. - let me just tell you one thing, you did not want to mess around with mrs c. she'd scream and have her fits, but we loved her with every inch of our eight years old heart - i remember quite clearly sitting there as she came in. 'oh fuck' was probably the only thing that went through my mind then. she gave us a long speach about all kinds of things, no shouting, no throwing chalk. just a long speech in a low-tone of voice. she basically told us that we'd never get to relive that afternoon. that those minutes where we tormented our poor gym teacher by not listening to him would never be given back to us.

in short, carpe diem.

and i don't why this story keeps popping back at me. no, that's a lie, i think i know why but sometimes it's easier to ignore things than to actually act upon them.

but, yes, carpe diem. cue words for the day.

i drink from the cup you left behind when you moved away and did not have the place for such futile possesions in your suitcase.

it's a odd shade of red with an animal that looks like a pig but is possibly not quite one. i remember joking around, when you showed it to me, saying it was probably made by a five year old in china. the drawing of the pig is fairly accurate and very age-appropriate for a 5 year old.

your former roomate left the cup behind when she left and passed it on to you. the thing probably cost 1$ but has had three different owners in the last three years. no quite an epic story, but close.

i wash it in the morning, providing i've used it the night before for the traditional milk and honey. it would be unthinkable to start the day without it.

first meeting with mr d. this morning. dressed in my best boyish look.

spent an hour turning down dinner invitations. thankfully, he's a nice enough guy and has a good choice of perfume.

sentence of the day: "you'll see darling, once you try african men, you'll never go back to the others."

gosh, that's what i thought after my first date with a girl. i mean, seriously, if he even knew.

i have bad camping karma.

the weather report says 12 degrees and rain.

i guess i'll get to know whether she really is as laid back as she seems. if she can laugh her way through this then...

one day

you, me & the great wall.

then i'll be able to say i've seen two of the world wonders at once.

you are walking grace.

ok. i've been meaning to write about this for a little, but not. i kind of feel like i'm making a big deal out of something that maybe i should just brush off, but everytime i do it seems to come back to me.

mr V. at work. mr V. the asshole who keeps making sexual references everytime i talk to him on the phone. mr V. who likes to see me bent down in front of him. that guy. it started with him.

i think that up to recently i had convinced myself that i was not exactly vulnerable. that i could safetly walk down the street at anytime of the night or day and nothing would ever happen to me. i thought that because i was not attracted to men, they would also not be attracted to me. the thing is, though, that i've been feeling more girly these days. i've let my hair grow more than 1/2 inch and i've worn pastels to work (ok, light blue, but still!). traded cargo pants for something a little tamer. and all the while i've been feeling somewhat comfortable about it, which would not have been the case just a few years ago. anyways, all of that to say that i've noticed how i've been considered slightly differently. my dad, for one, doesn't complain about my attire and i get the odd comment every now and then on the street. and that did not used to bother me up til i met mr V.

his vulgar comments and his constant references to anything sexual disturbed me. i also know that he knows that. it's a little game of sorts. where i shut up and get embarassed and let him just say anything he pleases. because i'm not used to having to reply back.

i've noticed recently that i've been feeling less comfortable walking down the street late at night. granted, maybe it's just because i'm walking schweppes all the time now and i'm just faced with the situation more often. anyhow.

last night, walking schweppes this guy crossed the street and starting walking quickly behind me. he had his car keys out though he walked passed a good dozen of cars without stopping. my heart started racing. which is absolutely ridiculous, i know, because there was nothing extremely threatening, but i decided to turn around abruptly and head home.

and it's crazy because i've been feeling this bottled up anger. i've been feeling like i need to strike back.

---

(there is a woman who lives on the street where i work. she does not seem to work - outside of home anyways - during the day. but she owns a porsche. the guys i work with have been making allusions to the fact that she probably is a prostitute.)

(all the while i'm thinking that if she were a man, no one would ever question how she got to own that car.)