the sound of the "save" bells as the document closes.
the smell of the exhaust from the printer as it prints off a completed project.
the feeling of sinking into big red's inviting cushiness, with cozy slippers and comfy jim-jams on.
the taste of homemade chocolate-pecan-swirl cookies, fresh out of the oven, with milk.
the sight of cat deeley and the SYTYCD gang at the end of a long day of writing.
... then a 19-minute DVD with an extra 3 1/2 minutes of deleted scenes is priceless.
see, as i was eye-deep in rewriting this afternoon, a package arrived in the mail. it was the long-awaited DVD of the documentary shot when ericanddan were here in 2008. and it was wonderful. hilariously funny and brilliantly edited by eric.
watching it reminded me what a great time i had during their visit, and how much fun we all have on the very, very rare occasions when we hang out together.
then i just felt all glad and warm.
in the midst of my rewriting, i took a break tonight to attend another At the Concert Hall (formerly Live at the Rehearsal Hall) taping. it's been about 10 months since the last one for me, and tonight's artist was jann arden, whose last LATRH appearance several years ago was the first one i'd ever attended.
and, unfortunately, that last one was better. that one was amazing; this one was just good. and that's very rare for any LATRH/ATCH show... to have it just be okay. i mean, some of those shows have been the best concerts i've ever seen. and that includes all the merriment that came along with the mess that was the hinges and friends christmas spectacular.
i'm not sure what was "off" tonight, but there was a decidedly weird energy in the venue, and there were these awkward stretches of silence between set-ups where normally someone -- the host, the artist, the floor director, the audience -- is talking or making noise or what have you. it was just quiet. muted, both in performance onstage and excitement off it.
don't get me wrong, it was still entertaining and the music was great. it just felt curiously subdued and, for the first time in any LATRH/ATCH taping i've attended, they didn't reshoot a single song. as soon as jann finished her last tune and thanked the audience, the lights came up and people just started filing out. without even a goodbye from the floor director.
strange.
sometimes, the solution to a seemingly unsolvable dilemma materializes seemingly out of thin air.
of course, that's not exactly how the solution arrives -- when you have a problem and go in search of a solution, your brain (and the universe) works on things in its own time while you're busy with life and other distractions, and may then drop the answer in your lap when you least expect it. like, "oh, here you go. did you want this?"
for me, that happened last night.
and a long-standing writing roadblock with one particular piece dissolved within seconds, allowing me to forge ahead with enthusiasm and a new-found excitement for how the rest of it will unfold.
today, i finally stopped in at my parents' house to do four loads of laundry (three down, one more to go), have dinner and pick up my haul from YB and mom's shopping jaunt to the states.
i now have enough candy to last me through christmas.
topped-up supplies of eclipse mints, orange tic tacs and ACT fluoride rinse.
ear plugs to carry me through to next summer.
100% cotton pillow protectors.
a big plaid blanket.
two hair clips.
expensive conditioner on the super-cheap courtesy of big lots.
and, of course, a couple of hostess sno-balls.
sometimes, as a writer, you write something, revise it, tweak it, love it... and then you put it away.
sometimes, it sits on a shelf or in a drawer, just waiting.
sometimes, you take it out soon after and start working on it again right away.
sometimes, you leave it alone, let it marinate, and you go on living your life in the meantime... until something changes, or a switch flips, or a lightbulb goes on, or you suddenly have a burst of motivation and you begin another rewrite.
sometimes, that rewrite is minor. a little nip here and a tuck there, just for cosmetic purposes.
sometimes, it's a bit like open-heart surgery because major work needs to be done.
so you take what you've made, dismantle it completely and then put it back together stronger. tighter. better.
it might be a big, ugly mess when you make the first incision, and then the second, and then the third, and then you move around some vital organs, disconnect some arteries and reattach a limb or two.
and, as you go, you hope the patient not only lives when you're done, but thrives.
living in toronto, i frequently ride the subway.
so do thousands of other people. and, for the most part, each of us remains in his or her own bubble as we rocket along the tracks in a sea of strangers.
sure, sometimes someone steps out of a bubble or bursts into yours, but usually everyone is lost to ipods, blackberries, naps, newspapers, laptops, books or just staring out the window and thinking about dinner.
tonight i saw someone very much in her own bubble, and it was simultaneously fascinating and sad to witness.
she was a young woman, maybe mid-20s, sitting next to a window. she had long black hair, was dressed in men’s clothes (also all black) and had very large, very dark sunglasses on. her jaw was locked shut and she looked like she was frowning. she was listening to an mp3 player. motionless.
at first i thought she was really angry. her body language was rigid, and that frown was cemented in place. she looked mean. and scary. there was no one sitting beside her, and it felt as though the energy she was giving off was a very clear, very strong, very loud “do not f**k with me.”
then i saw her unclench one of her fists to reveal a kleenex, which she moved towards her face.
as nonchalantly as she could, she pushed it under her sunglasses and wiped away tears.
then she immediately resumed her statue-like pose.
and i couldn’t stop glancing over at her.
had i not glimpsed the tissue and tears in those few seconds, i never would have guessed she was crying. she wiped more tears, and let out a couple of barely audible (given the environment) sniffles, over the course of about four stops, and she was still on the subway when i got off.
but for the 10 minutes or so that i sat across the aisle from her, i wondered who she was and what might have happened to precipitate this very public private moment.
why was she crying?
did she just lose her job?
did someone break her heart?
was she coming home from visiting her mom in the hospital?
did she have to put her dog down?
so many questions. but no answers.
because sometimes you have to respect bubbles. and sometimes it’s just too daunting to try to pop one without invitation.
i decided to pull from the box of questions again today, because i felt stumped for subject matter and worried i’d waste the rest of the night trying to come up with something to say.
so, today’s card asks:
“would you rather live for a week in the past or the future?”
i realize the gist of the query involves traveling backwards or forwards many, many years... decades, centuries, what have you. and, in that context, i suppose it might be interesting to revisit the 1920s. i don’t why, but i just find myself drawn to that era. or maybe the post-war 1940s. maybe the week of the end of WWII.
but, given the amount of time i sometimes spend mentally reliving my mistakes, or wishing i could change things i’ve said or done, i suspect i’d be much more inclined to spend a week in the more recent past if given the chance. a week in my own past.
assuming, that is, i might be able to affect my present by tweaking what went before. hindsight is, as they say, 20/20... so why not capitalize on knowing now what i didn’t know then?
because, while it might be fun to skip ahead a few chapters in the story of my life for a peek at what the universe has in store, i feel like turning back the pages might be a more healing exercise that could help me keep moving towards the future that has yet to be written.
what about you?
my friend j-dub is moving and is in the process of packing her home into bags and boxes. one of the items she came across, buried in a big closet, was something called “table topics.” it’s a glass box filled with a hundred or so 3”x3” cards, each with a question on it. the idea being: have the box at a table full of people as a conversation-starter. pull a question, read it to the group, and listen as everybody answers.
j-dub was going to toss it, but i asked if i could have it because i thought it would be a fantastic resource for blog topics on days when i can’t think of what to write.
days like today.
so, tonight, i pulled a card and its question is this:
“where would you go if you were going to run away from home?”
hmm. part of me thinks it would depend on why i was running away. if i were in distress for some reason, i’d probably want to be someplace where i felt safe and secure, so perhaps my parents’ or YB’s house.
if i were running away as a means of escape from my life, i suspect i’d probably go someplace somewhat familiar... but different. a city that i know and like, but one that’s different enough to feel like a change. like chicago or seattle.
if i were running away because i wanted to start over... i really don’t know. i wish i could honestly name some far-flung location on the other side of the globe, but it rings false within.
i think my inherent love of home (a trait of us cancers) would cause me to second-guess any running-away plans in the first place.
what about you?
there's an inspirational saying that goes something like, "he who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small pebbles."
today, with help, i picked up my first few pebbles and began.
* i didn't sleep long enough.
* i woke up feeling tired.
* i skipped my first screening.
* i had cookies and milk.
* i did not walk today.
* i attended my second screening.
* clichéd storylines are lazy writing.
* hoyay! always makes films better.
* i had a huge smoothie.
* i stood in a terrarium.
* i attended my third screening.
* girls in gangs are scary.
* home before nine is awesome.
* pyjamas and bed before midnight.
so, on tuesday i bought a mini-baguette, from which i was going to make some garlic bread.
said mini-baguette proved to be extreeeeeeeeemely chewy and tough, so eating it proved a challenge for my jaw.
wednesday morning, i woke up feeling like i'd had dental surgery the day before.
at lunch on wednesday, i ate out at a fast-food italian place, and was given a chunk of baguette to go with my pasta... and that baguette was also rather chewy.
by last night, my jaw muscles were very sore. so much so that chewing was actually painful.
i ate only soft foods today, and took some NSAIDs, but it's still achy.
no more baguettes for a while.
okay, so yesterday i wrote about the beautiful red dragonfly i spotted while standing in line near a hedge. it was this perfect little moment, and one that hung with me.
well, today, i saw dragonflies everywhere.
there were several of them around roy thomson hall, including another red one and one that was such a blindingly pretty shade of bright green that it practically glowed. they were flying around the water/fountain area, buzzing around trees and catching the sunlight on their wings. that was just before noon.
then, a couple of hours later, i was standing in line (again) in the heart of downtown, along yonge street where “nature” is rather sparse, and there they were again.
one actually landed on the shoulder of the woman standing behind me (who was reading and didn’t notice it) and sat there for a minute before being carried off on a breeze.
another one landed – no joke – right smack in the middle the magazine the chap in front of me was reading just as he was turning a page, so he didn’t see his dragonfly either and actually turned the page on top of it. then, a moment later, another one (or maybe it was the same one that had somehow escaped) landed on his magazine and he shooed it off.
i should point out that i rarely see dragonflies, period. and, when i do, it’s almost always out in the ‘burbs when i’m visiting YB or my parents. almost never downtown.
yet, within the past 24 hours, they’ve flown about me multiple times in the most unlikely of places.
and i spent the rest of the day wondering: what could this possibly mean? is it just a natural phenomenon, like that year the city was covered in ladybugs? is it a weird coincidence?
or it a sign of some sort?
when i got home, i googled and found this, which i think is very telling and oddly fitting. thanks, universe.
and, even if that has nothing to do with why dragonflies seem to be omnipresent in my world at the moment, i don’t care. because i still think they're kind of magical.
* summer 2009 has been a gift from mother nature as far as i'm concerned. GLORIOUS. almost entirely pleasant, weather-wise, and only a small handful of days when i felt like i was melting. and now, as we hit the middle of september, i feel autumn coming and am glad. i love everything about that season -- the colours, the smells, the light, the harvest, the cool temperatures and the impending first snowfall.
* i keep meaning to go grocery shopping to restock my cupboards, but haven’t yet done it. thus, i’ve been having Treats From the Freezer™ a lot lately, but am now running out of freezer contents. which means: the other night i had cashews, cheerios mix, cookies and milk for dinner. i justified it by telling myself that at least the nuts and milk were protein.
* unfortunately, i didn’t sleep well last night. i’m now into my second week of sleeplessness, and it’s starting to chip away at my emotional well-being. being tired rarely makes for clear thinking.
* i’m going to write a soap opera. actually, more of a soap-opera parody. still, it should be fun.
* in related news, i’m looking for a kick-ass producer for a short film i wrote. please cross appendages.
* i am so happy that Project Runway is back on the air, though i almost missed its season premiere. similarly, i’m delighted that SYTYCD has returned, that BB is inching towards its conclusion and that Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives continues to churn out awesome new episodes.
* sometimes, a stranger cheerfully saying “good morning” to you as you pass on the sidewalk can be enough to set the tone for the day.
* i am enjoying my TIFF lite this year.
* the mother-daughter road trip YB was going to take with mom over labour day weekend – which was cancelled due to illness – will happen next week. i am preparing a shopping list for them to take along. so far, it consists of sweet tarts and fluoride rinse.
* i really want to try harvey’s new onion-ring burger. given that it’s film-fest time, i suspect this will happen sooner rather than later.
i was out late, and got home late, and now it's later still and i'm too tired to write anything other than this excessively long excuse as to why there's no real entry for today.
furthermore, the sleep monster has not visited me in almost a week, so i'm way beat and desperate to hit the hay in the hopes of catching those elusive Zs.
the last time YB and i were in the states, i bought a big container of coarse-ground black pepper at big lots. it was $1, and we'd tried it before at my parents' house. the pepper was/is very strong in aroma and tastes great.
problem is, you can have too much of a good thing.
specifically, if *i* use too much of this pepper -- as i occasionally do because i love it so and get carried away -- bad things happen intestinally. it's the price i know i must pay if i want to use this delicious spice as liberally as i do.
so, today, when i sprinkled a generous amount atop my leftover macaroni and cheese, i thought, "hmmm... mayhaps i should be a tad more conservative, seasoning-wise."
but it was too late because, let me tell you, it's really really hard to pick tiny flecks of pepper off anything one at a time. and, though i've never tried it, i kind of think rinsing cheesy pasta under the faucet would probably defeat the purpose of the meal.
thus, i ate it. and it was tasty. and i thought, "ha! maybe it'll be fine!"
it wasn't.
fin.
today i was reminded that, sometimes, something as simple as telling someone "i love you" is the most precious gift you can give.
yesterday, i was leaving a downtown office building and, as i walked along a hallway towards the large glass doors leading to the street, i could see an elderly woman standing outside, carrying two bags of groceries, trying to push the “pull” doors. she looked like she might be in her late-70s, not frail but not terribly sturdy either. neatly dressed. clearly confused.
she was going from door to door, pushing when she should have been pulling, and she couldn’t seem to figure out what she needed to do in order to get inside. a young couple came up behind her and i thought, “ah, here we go. they see what’s happening and will hold the doors open for her.”
but they didn’t.
they scooted to the door farthest from the elderly woman, pulled it open and came into the building. i am consistently amazed by the astounding lack of manners, common sense and compassion in the world.
anyway...
i saw the woman watch them, and hoped she’d understand she needed to pull on the handle... but she just kept standing outside. then i wondered if, perhaps, she wasn’t strong enough to actually heave one of these big glass panes open on her own.
when i got to the doors, i went to the one nearest her, opened it, smiled and held it open. but she just looked at me and didn’t move.
“did you not want to go in?” i asked.
“pardon?”
“are you trying to get inside?” i said, still holding the door open.
“no," she answered. "out." then she pushed again on the door in front of her.
i suddenly felt very sad. in that second, this picture came into sharp focus, and i saw the edges of her life’s portrait fading inward, disappearing.
i let go of the door i was holding, and took the handle of the one on which she was pushing.
“it’s okay. you just have to pull, not push,” i explained cheerfully, and pulled the door open to show her.
“oh, i see. pull not push. thank you,” she said with a slight smile, clearly still uncertain, as she headed inside to wherever she was going.
after the door closed behind her, i went on my way... hoping she'd be able to find hers.
i dreamt that i was on a plane with young beatrix. no idea where we were headed, but the plane was full and it looked like it was either early morning or dusk, time-of-day-wise. we were sitting in two of three middle seats of large aircraft, with double seats across the aisles on either side.
the plane was already airborne, and i was trying to figure out how to watch the in-flight movie, which was some non-descript thing conjured up by my subconscious. across the aisle from me were a boy, about five, and his older sister, who looked like she was maybe nine or ten. they were plotting how to annoy the passengers sitting in front of them, and decided to start purposely kicking the seats.
i returned my attention to the movie, and suddenly the plane jerked downward and to the left. i nearly fell out of my seat, but was belted in and hung on to the armrests. it was alarming, and trixie said, “wow, until then i forgot we were even in the air.”
then the plane banked severely to the left, and i looked out the window to see the skyline of toronto... but in my dream it was rendered as if it was a digitally animated cityscape – coloured blocks and basic geometric shapes making up the buildings.
i could feel the speed with which we were moving, and the chaotic flightpath we were on. there was panic and fear rippling through the plane, and i thought, “this isn’t normal. something’s going wrong. we’re going to crash.”
then, at a terrifying speed, the plane began to careen towards lake ontario. i looked out the windows and saw us descending alongside the skyline. i felt my heart leap into my chest and all i could think to do was grab the buckle of my seatbelt so that i could unlatch it if i survived impact and needed to swim out.
clear as day, i heard the bloodcurdling scream of a woman elsewhere in the plane, who’d realized what was happening.
“omiGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!”
just as we were about to hit, i woke up.
and it took me a good 10 minutes of TV watching to re-settle afterwards.
1. this morning, after an invigorating hour-long power walk, i bought myself a rather elaborate- and delicious-looking almond croissant for breakfast. i got on the subway, settled in, ate about 1/3 of the croissant, and then noticed a small, decidedly dead fly embedded on the bottom. bigger than a fruit fly, smaller than a house fly. DELISH.
2. my mom, YB and i had a fun day out planned. 20 minutes into our highway journey but less than halfway to our west-pole destination, YB started to feel sick. so, we pulled off the highway, paused so she could collect herself, switched drivers (she'd been driving), turned around and drove nearly an hour the s-l-o-w way home. outing: FAIL.
3. later, my mom accidentally drove over my sweater with the car.
4. there was no cake today.
earlier today, i was standing in line at the south st. burger co., waiting for my small-burger combo, when an older woman -- maybe late-60s, short white hair, rather fancily dressed for a fast-food joint -- came in and stood behind me. i could sort of see, in my peripheral vision, that she kept looking at me.
we placed our orders and continued along the line towards the station where your burger is custom dressed to your specifications. after i requested my lettuce, tomato and red-onion toppings, i took a step back to wait for the burger to be ready.
the older woman stepped closer and suddenly said, "i'm sorry, but do you have a sister named bessie?"
i smiled and said no, that i did have a sister -- and then motioned to young beatrix, who was holding our table -- but her name wasn't bessie.
the woman kind of laughed. "oh, you look SO much like her! it's uncanny! i can't get over it!"
okay, weird.
"you know, they say we all have a double walking around in the world," she continued, after she finished placing her topping order.
"so i've heard," i said, smiling. "and you're kind of freaking me out by telling me you saw mine!"
she then told me how much she loves the south st. burgers, and when i said it was my first time there she exclaimed, "oh, you are in for SUCH a treat! they're just marvelous!"
we each collected our orders, i wished her a good meal, and we went to separate ends of the seating area.
yesterday, i wrote about picnics and freeways, and the perils inherent in trying to merge the two.
today, i’m thinking about the why of something vs. the what that something is. (and i recognize the questionable structure of the preceding sentence, but i’m choosing to move on.)
a couple of weeks ago, i saw a documentary wherein a very sage, very sweet and funny spiritual advisor in india made a comment along the lines of, “it is not the what that is important in life, it is the why.” the example he used was making dinner. he said that the act of making someone dinner wasn’t what mattered, it was the reason for doing it.
if, for example, your enemy held you at gunpoint and told you to make dinner, you would... but filled with fear and anger and resentment and a profound sense of not wanting to do it.
if, however, you were happily and willingly and of your own volition making dinner for someone you loved dearly, the reasons for your efforts and the feelings they would elicit within you would be vastly different.
same what; different why.
cut to yesterday, when i had a small epiphany regarding something i’d written last summer. it was a play, one draft only, and something i’d written just to see if i could do it. a friend had challenged me, given me a deadline and off i went. and, in the end, i finished it... but wasn’t happy with it. i loved the idea i’d come up with, but felt that the final product (even though it was only a first draft and could be revised ad infinitum) was seriously lacking something. i couldn’t pinpoint what but the whole thing felt meh, so i just chucked the project onto the “i’ll get back to this later” pile.
where it’s remained, untouched, not at all looked at, ignored ever since.
then yesterday i suddenly realized what was lacking: i loved what the lead character was doing, but i hadn’t really explored why she was doing it. there were some flimsy whys i’d created at the outset, but certainly not to any kind of deep and meaningful degree. thankfully, this realization came in tandem with resources that will help me enrich the why of her actions. so, you know, i have some research to do.
and then some rewriting.
why? because i want what i’ve written to fly, not flounder.
now, having said all that, i actually think there’s an endearing flipside to the horoscope’s analogy: attempting something lovely and simple amid chaos. i love that concept, and – in the best possible interpretation – i don’t think there’s anything wrong with trying to inject beauty or joy into a non-beautiful, non-joyous environment. that’s what i try to do as often as i mistakenly bang my head against a wall.i'm out of ideas at the moment.
i don't know what to write about. and the more i try to think of something about which to write, the less i feel like i have anything to say... as though whatever tiny fragments of possible topics that might be up in my brain suddenly dart to its farthest corners and hide.
or, worse, if i dwell too long in thinking time, my inclination is to meander into unpleasant territory.
so, to spare us all the tedium and toil, i thought i'd ask for suggestions.
whatever you feel like tossing out.
a question to answer.
a thought to ponder.
a word to explore.
a place.
a person.
an event.
'cause i'm tapped, and i'd rather not spend the next ten entries linking to music videos.
go.
