Just before I left work yesterday I got hit with a random act of ice cream. A woman I had never seen or spoken to before showed up in my doorway with a cooler.
"Hi Jill I'm (some name I don't remember) from (some department I don't remember) would you like some ice cream? Of course you would. Good, I just need to get rid of these things before they melt."
She handed me an Oreo ice cream sandwich. What would I do for a Klondike Bar? Not much, but for an Oreo ice cream sandwich, um, I won't go there. Oreo and ice cream were meant for each other and together they are meant for me. There is a God and he knows what I like.
That evening I went to my cousin's place for a baby meet and greet/house tour party. For the second time in a span of two weeks I was handed a small human and expected to automatically know what to do with it.
The baby, he was so tiny I felt like a giant with baseball mitts for hands and Popeye's powerful forearms. I was afraid I would crush his little body as I held him to my chest. He wiggled a lot and he kept alternating between punching me in the throat and choking me by grabbing my necklace. When my awkwardness shone through the cameras came out to capture the beautiful moment.
"You don't hold a lot of babies, do you?" some older man beside me asked.
"Um, no."
Someone then asked if I would like them to take him. Feeling obliged to release the little guy from my sad attempt at channeling my mothering instincts, I handed him over.
There was an assortment of food at the party. I had some fruit, some vegetables, some brownies, some taco dip and a piece of the cake (I skipped out on dinner that night, okay?). Maybe it was the late night noshing or maybe it's the fact that my brain has been working overtime this week, but I had the weirdest dream last night. I was at the cottage. My parents were there, my sister, some friends, and NYF. NYF was smoking though and even he couldn't make it look attractive. In the back yard I noticed a raccoon belaying across a hydro wire. My dad grabbed the wire (okay, maybe it wasn't a hydro wire, must've been a phone wire) and shook the raccoon off. This made the raccoon angry and it chased me. My mom was then able to grab the raccoon (kind of like the way I saw people holding the baby...) and she put it into a shallow fire pit which she covered with a metal mesh screen. We then both grabbed patio stones to weigh the screen down so the critter wouldn't escape. But we couldn't move fast enough and the raccoon got out. It attacked me and then I woke up. What the hell?
I told NYF about my dream this morning while I ate my peanut butter on toast with Mac. Incidentally, NYF is NYF no more. He has left New York and is now attending journalism school in Ottawa. I have no choice now but to call him OAF.
"There are lots of Winnipeggers in our program, by the way," he informed me.
"If any of the transplanted Winnipeggers are attractive young males between the ages of 27 and 34, send them my picture," I said.
"Heh, no, all attractive young females," he wrote back.
Naturally. Why would it be any different from home?
This morning at work I got a call from the volunteer coordinator with the Winnipeg Writers Festival. She had my shift schedule for me. I called to Michael over the cubicle wall to tell him about it.
"You volunteer for a lot of stuff, don't you?" he asked.
"Well, no more committee work. I've decided that stuff isn't for me," I said. "This I signed up for because I went to the festival last year and saw an author who said she had been volunteering for the festival for so long the organizers told her she couldn't come back unless she had a book to read from. She read and I thought, huh, really? I can do better than that. So I figure this will get me into the circle, get me meeting inspiring people, you know? And besides, volunteering is good for career development."
"I think I volunteered once years ago for the Australian pavillion at Folklorama."
"Yes, but you have a career," I said.
"But our careers are only this far apart," he said and held his thumb and index finger over the top of the cubicle wall separating our cubes. Where Michael sees two inches I see five years, but I like his encouraging perspective. Maybe I'm not so far away.
We had a department fun day today. We went to Grand Prix Amusements for mini golf, go-karting and bumper boating. I am proud to say that I helped contribute to my team's dismal mini golf score which landed us in last place but earned us $10 gift cards for Starbucks.
Naturally, I loved the go-karting. My life needs more go-karting. The funniest part of the day though was when I joined about half of the group on the air pillow--essentially an inflated trampoline. Picture a dozen 25-45 year-olds bouncing around like 10 year-olds. It was something beautiful, it really was.
I was at Lisa's tonight for dinner and TV. We watched the new vampire show and 90210. I told Lisa I've always wanted to be a part of a teen drama show. I love the stories of first love and I love that they always have a killer soundtrack.
"You should write one," she said. "You'd be good at it."
"Maybe I will in my creative writing class."
"I feel good," I said to her as I was leaving. "I feel like whatever happens next, it will be the right thing."
As I walked outside the air was still warm and humid. Lightning flashed and I kept catching it in the corner of my eye. It was like the heavens were capturing the moment by taking photos of me. I hate getting my picture taken, but tonight I couldn't stop smiling.
--Jerry Lee Lewis, Chantilly Lace
"Hi Jill I'm (some name I don't remember) from (some department I don't remember) would you like some ice cream? Of course you would. Good, I just need to get rid of these things before they melt."
She handed me an Oreo ice cream sandwich. What would I do for a Klondike Bar? Not much, but for an Oreo ice cream sandwich, um, I won't go there. Oreo and ice cream were meant for each other and together they are meant for me. There is a God and he knows what I like.
That evening I went to my cousin's place for a baby meet and greet/house tour party. For the second time in a span of two weeks I was handed a small human and expected to automatically know what to do with it.
The baby, he was so tiny I felt like a giant with baseball mitts for hands and Popeye's powerful forearms. I was afraid I would crush his little body as I held him to my chest. He wiggled a lot and he kept alternating between punching me in the throat and choking me by grabbing my necklace. When my awkwardness shone through the cameras came out to capture the beautiful moment.
"You don't hold a lot of babies, do you?" some older man beside me asked.
"Um, no."
Someone then asked if I would like them to take him. Feeling obliged to release the little guy from my sad attempt at channeling my mothering instincts, I handed him over.
There was an assortment of food at the party. I had some fruit, some vegetables, some brownies, some taco dip and a piece of the cake (I skipped out on dinner that night, okay?). Maybe it was the late night noshing or maybe it's the fact that my brain has been working overtime this week, but I had the weirdest dream last night. I was at the cottage. My parents were there, my sister, some friends, and NYF. NYF was smoking though and even he couldn't make it look attractive. In the back yard I noticed a raccoon belaying across a hydro wire. My dad grabbed the wire (okay, maybe it wasn't a hydro wire, must've been a phone wire) and shook the raccoon off. This made the raccoon angry and it chased me. My mom was then able to grab the raccoon (kind of like the way I saw people holding the baby...) and she put it into a shallow fire pit which she covered with a metal mesh screen. We then both grabbed patio stones to weigh the screen down so the critter wouldn't escape. But we couldn't move fast enough and the raccoon got out. It attacked me and then I woke up. What the hell?
I told NYF about my dream this morning while I ate my peanut butter on toast with Mac. Incidentally, NYF is NYF no more. He has left New York and is now attending journalism school in Ottawa. I have no choice now but to call him OAF.
"There are lots of Winnipeggers in our program, by the way," he informed me.
"If any of the transplanted Winnipeggers are attractive young males between the ages of 27 and 34, send them my picture," I said.
"Heh, no, all attractive young females," he wrote back.
Naturally. Why would it be any different from home?
This morning at work I got a call from the volunteer coordinator with the Winnipeg Writers Festival. She had my shift schedule for me. I called to Michael over the cubicle wall to tell him about it.
"You volunteer for a lot of stuff, don't you?" he asked.
"Well, no more committee work. I've decided that stuff isn't for me," I said. "This I signed up for because I went to the festival last year and saw an author who said she had been volunteering for the festival for so long the organizers told her she couldn't come back unless she had a book to read from. She read and I thought, huh, really? I can do better than that. So I figure this will get me into the circle, get me meeting inspiring people, you know? And besides, volunteering is good for career development."
"I think I volunteered once years ago for the Australian pavillion at Folklorama."
"Yes, but you have a career," I said.
"But our careers are only this far apart," he said and held his thumb and index finger over the top of the cubicle wall separating our cubes. Where Michael sees two inches I see five years, but I like his encouraging perspective. Maybe I'm not so far away.
We had a department fun day today. We went to Grand Prix Amusements for mini golf, go-karting and bumper boating. I am proud to say that I helped contribute to my team's dismal mini golf score which landed us in last place but earned us $10 gift cards for Starbucks.
Naturally, I loved the go-karting. My life needs more go-karting. The funniest part of the day though was when I joined about half of the group on the air pillow--essentially an inflated trampoline. Picture a dozen 25-45 year-olds bouncing around like 10 year-olds. It was something beautiful, it really was.
I was at Lisa's tonight for dinner and TV. We watched the new vampire show and 90210. I told Lisa I've always wanted to be a part of a teen drama show. I love the stories of first love and I love that they always have a killer soundtrack.
"You should write one," she said. "You'd be good at it."
"Maybe I will in my creative writing class."
"I feel good," I said to her as I was leaving. "I feel like whatever happens next, it will be the right thing."
As I walked outside the air was still warm and humid. Lightning flashed and I kept catching it in the corner of my eye. It was like the heavens were capturing the moment by taking photos of me. I hate getting my picture taken, but tonight I couldn't stop smiling.
I feel real loose like a long neck goose like a whoa baby that's what I like
--Jerry Lee Lewis, Chantilly Lace
1 comment:
This made me smile.
Post a Comment