I have decided that I like Terry Pratchett's writing. Excerpts:

"You expected him any moment to break into the kind of song that has suspicious rhymes and phrases like ‘my kind of town’ and ‘I wanna be a part of it’ in it; the kind of song where people dance in the street and give the singer apples and join in and a dozen lowly matchgirls suddenly show amazing choreographical ability and everyone acts like cheery lovable citiznes, instead of the murderous, evil-minded, self-centered individuals they suspect themselves to be."

"The truth is that even big collections of ordinary books distort space, as can readily be proved by anyone who had been around a really old-fashioned secondhand bookshop, one of those that looks as though they were designed by M. Escher on a bad day and has more staricases than storeys and those rows of shelves which end in little doors that are surely too small for a full-sized human to enter. The relevant equation is: Knowledge = power = energy = matter = mass. A good bookshop is just a genteel Black Hole that knows how to read."

Each morning they gather. Mostly retiress, they come seeking some lost youth, lost vitality - or maybe it's just companionship. They set their own speed and their own path as they begin to circle. Some wander slowly, barely moving at all. Others speedwalk, their arms swinging powerfully, their faces set in grim determination. Every morning they come to Southgate, and they walk. It may not be tree-lined boulevards, and it may not be grassy lawns by a lake, but it is just as real to them. It's more than just routine, to them, and it's more than just exverise. It is a never-ending attempt to recapture the spark of life they so desperately miss, and to chase away the boredom that comes with middle age. They are as set in their paths as stars - ever turning and ever inspiring.
--Pixie (Sept 28/2004)

From a discussion on homosexual marriage:

"The thing that pisses me off the most is that the Christian right says absolutely nothing about protecting the sanctity of marriage from television shows like, "Who Wants to Marry a Complete Stranger Who May or May Not Be a Millionaire, And Who Will Pick His Bride From a Whole Stable of Ho Bags (One of Whom May Actually Be a Lesbian or a Man in Drag) Based On A Season's Worth of Televised Dates and Votes Called in by American Viewers."

Her name was Nola. She was the little old woman sitting at the bus stop with me, to whom the description 'urban gnome' could have applied. A knitted cap, big winter coat, beige gloves and a large orange bag. Whisps of orange-blonde dyed hair slipped under the edges of her hat, and her eyes were young and green.

I met her waiting for the 52. We started talking because of the cars rushing by, splashing cold, muddy, snow at us. And we kept talking. About this and that, and other things. School, books, public transportation, men who refuse to take the bus, driving in downtown Vancouver, the "weather revolution", as she called it, in Alberta... anything really. She was wonderful. And just what I needed at the time. When I got to the bus stop, I was feeling really down. I needed a random stranger to talk to me, as though I were just another normal person.

Me? Normal? Ha.

But my point is that Nola made my day - made a difference. When I realized that my bus stop was coming up, I considered riding all the way to Whyte Ave with her, as I was enjoying her company so much. But common sense prevailed, and I came home. I'm glad that I met her, even though I know that I'll likely never see her again. I'll remember her though in that way that you remember random strangers who leave a mark on your heart. Maybe I just miss my own grandparents... I don't know. Doesn't seem likely, but I suppose that stranger things have happened. Maybe I was just having a bad day, and needed someone to not ask me what was wrong. That seems more likely.

I wish everyone in the world could have moments like this, meet people like Nola. It helps to reaffirm one's faith in humanity. Yesterday Mr. Walker told us about picking up a hitchiker on Sat night on his way home from a movie. He had two of his big guy friends with him, and the guy's car had just broken down and he was trying to get to the gas station. Mr. Walker said that at the time, he felt as though he had an angel and devil on his shoulders. And he couldn't have said which one was saying which, but one was telling him just to drive away, and the other was telling him to help his fellow man. In the end, he did help. And he asked us, did he do the right thing? I told him yes. He reached out, when someone needed help. Maybe that doesn't seem like a big deal to most people, but as someone who's needed that alot, it makes a difference to me. I mean, how many times have I needed someone to pick me up off the side of a road? Sometimes I've been hurt, or lost, or carrying a broken bicycle. Sometimes I've just been trying to get to school. But the fact remains that I needed /someone/ to help me. I was reaching out. And people reached back.

Maybe that what life is all about. Reaching back. No matter who it is, or how much you dislike them, or look down upon them, or distrust them. Just being sure that if you see someone with a hand stretched out, that you at least try to reach them as well. Whether or not you can 'save' them, is not the issue. It's not who can change the world - it's who's willing to try.

All things considered, I had a good day.

I woke up this morning to discover that my beautiful fall world was covered with awful cold wet white /things/, that were going to prevent me from biking to work. After calling Starlin' to bitch about my unhappiness, I resigned myself to a gross day. After pottering around doing this and that, I headed off to work on the bus. The bus, I re-discovered, stops outside of the Starbucks on Whyte. And it was cold. And I was grumpy. And... okay, I can't really justify it, but I'll say a few Hail Marys and it'll be alright, right? At work we had our fabulous new counter. It's beautiful, and so so much better than our little desk. My back didn't hurt from bending over to get everything by the end of the shift, and it just looks so much more professional. The other excellent part of work today was getting to decorate for Halloween.
We now have:

Spider webs on bookshelfs.

Halloween ornaments on the display case and in the window.

Pumpkin bags hanging from shelves and crossbars.

Ghost bags hanging from shelves and crossbars.

Black and orange streamers in the windows.

Skeleton streamers and spider streamers on the counter, and one wall.

Paper and pipe cleaner spiders hanging on shelves and crossbars, reading books like 'Charlotte's Web, and Miss Spider's Tea Party.'

A display case overflowing with halloween themed books like, "Uncle Vampire" and "My Mama Says There Aren't Any Zombies, Ghosts, Vampires, Creatures, Demons, Monsters, Fiends, Goblins, or Things."

After work, I came home and curled up on my bed, intent of dying. Or at least, wallowing deeply in self-pity, for reasons I have no intention of explaining here. Unfortunately (fortunately?) though, Starlin' called and informed me that I was going over to their place for dinner, and my ride was on the way. Roight then. Changed, got ready, and was promptly picked up by a Myrna. Whee. And we were off.

Arrived at the Finley-Newman residence to find incredibly wonderful smelling food being made, and a Fox and a Bear meticulously taking apart and cleaning a computer. After loving my children briefly, Myrna and I took on the closet in Sanna's room. And I think we did a damn good job, all things considered. We only came out of it with one Odds 'n' Ends box, and the closet was now Sanna-proofed. Again, whee. I then put Aria to bed, after some minor leaf issues, and rejoined the adults. Dinner was absolutely amazing, with this fantastic apple-gravy. Those of you who didn't come help Starlin' clean, and therefor get fed dinner, you have no idea what you missed. Mmmmm.... Then most people watched Gowan on DVD, while I enjoyed myself by playing Solitaire, and then Cam and Else drove me home.

And here I am, telling you about my day. Not that you probably cared, but too bad. I felt like blithering. But since that's really all I had to blither about, I guess I'll be going now.

Oh, though I should mention, the Great Big Sea concert was abso-fuckin-lutely amazing. I have never enjoyed a concert /that/ much. And Eric's parents were really sweet about letting us stay with them, and getting a babysitter for the kids, and letting us eat their food, and.. yea, wow. I think Eric might possibly have the coolest parents of anyone I've ever met. Though they don't have large multi-coloured hair or drive a little tiny sports car, eh ma jumelle? Anyways, I really did have a great time, and am so glad that I got the chance to go. Even if I managed to injure myself (as usual), it was still totally worth it.

Alright, actually done this time. Night cyberspace. Hope I haven't bored you to tears yet...

That's right, I rock. It's only 6:00, and I'm already done my homework.

Now what....

***
(added at 10:15pm)

So the answer to the question became... Myrna! My very favouritest bunny came over, and we watched an incredibly girly movie, talked about BOYS, and played with the cats. That's right, cats, plural. As in we now have two of them. Lucy, as always, and a 6 month old black kitten named Tino. At least, that's how I'm spelling it. He's very cute. He was Lizbits' but she couldn't keep him anymore. Anyway, so far things seem okay. They've stopped hissing at each other... all the time.

But even more exciting than that is the realization that my cat is Cassandra. Or Cassandra is my cat. Or something like that. Proof?

1) They both enjoy playing with the pocket zipper on my pants.
2) They both run headlong into walls, doors, couches, etc.
3) They both try to steal whatever I'm eating, by looking up at me with big eyes, and whining.
4) One must remind one's self, with both of them, not to laugh at the bad things they do, and thereby encourage the behaviour.
5) They both enjoy shiny objects, chasing people, and tripping me.
6) Neither of them is ever hungry if you want them to eat right then.
7) They both scratch, hiss, and bite.
8) Both are constantly trying to sneak into places they aren't allowed to be.
and a 1/2) They are both adorably cute... and mine.

So my audition for Pirates is tommorow night. Eek! I'm not sure that I really know my monologue or my song well enough, and I'm terrified that my voice won't stand up, and I don't have a headshot. My world is just difficult. Rarr.

On the plus side of the universe, Myrna and Davyd's wedding was fantastic. Even if I was attacked by the crazed oatmeal monster. It was still beautiful, and loving, and just lovely. I'm so glad that I was there to share it with them. I still think that they are incredibly brave for taking on that challenge, and I don't envy them the problems they will face. But I know they'll weather it. Love can conquer all. Maybe not make it better, or heal it, but it can conquer it.

There, deep thought of the day. Going to take a shower now.

Random Thoughts:

My bed is so pretty now it has fabulous black sheets on it. Whee.

Our furnace is broken. But the guy is here right now trying to fix it. Here's hoping..

If you are going to work in a field where you will be interacting with people on a daily basis, you damn well better learn how to smile even if you're grumpy. This message goes out in particular to people working in public high schools. We may be high school students, but we are still people, and deserve to be treated as intelligent human beings, not like something that got stuck to the bottom of your shoe.

I need to redo the organization of my closet. It is currently driving me bananas. Maybe that will be my project of the afternoon, since I already finished my laundry project.

Myrna's getting married tommorow. Tommorow! My god is she brave. I wonder if I'll ever be that brave. Highly doubtful. And if by some strange chance I did decide this was a good idea, I would definately just elope. None of this people watching you commit to something for the rest of your life. Heesh, talk about pressure to perform. *grin* I mean, I love you Davyd and Myrna, and I'm really happy for you guys. I can't wait for the ceremony tommorow.

Ear infections hurt, especially when one is walking to and from the bus stop with no hat on. As a side note, long scarves are excellent for use as hats.

Happy Birthday Cori!