Wednesday August 20, 2014
from an apartment memorandum
I feel a bit silly asking this, but do you think he wants me to stay for the winter? I’m only asking because we got this memo under the door today about getting new keys because the front locks were being changed, and he didn’t tell me about it. He like, hid the memo from me and I only found it because I was looking for the old memo from two days ago that said something about the drainage pipes. Why wouldn’t he invite me to stay long term? I feel like a summer fling all of a sudden, which is crazy right? He gave me a key for the summer and he’s going to give me a key for the winter too, isn’t he? Why would he all of a sudden not want me to get into his apartment easily? I feel like he’s going to be really annoyed with me calling all the time just to get inside the house we share, right? Well, we’ve been sharing it, I guess we don’t officially share it since my name is nowhere on the lease. I just thought, hey, I’m not a lease holder, fine, but I most certainly am an approved occupant! The residence manager has seen me a bazillion times while he’s watering the one plant in the front yard. I say hi to him every time I walk by even though he just stares at my boobs when he sees me. If anything, I’m an asset to this stupid building. Is that anti-feminist? Is this whole conversation anti-feminist? I’m just trying to figure out where I belong, you know? Well, no, not that desperately. I’m not begging for a key or anything. I’m not begging for a ring at all. I’m good with where we are. I’m good.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
From an article in the VIA Rail Destinations magazine September/October 2013/em>
Back when the roads were calm, the streets were empty and the whole world went elsewhere to feel alive.
Back when the city centre was a couple of hay bails and markets. Back when people didn’t come up to you to accuse you for not being from there. Now there are divides. We see neighborhoods with different personalities and humans adopting those personalities as if they forgot to develop their own and those were the next best options.
We see big buildings that keep the wind out, the love out, the money in.
It’s beautiful and enviable to those on the outside and for those who chose to pay higher rent than everyone else learn to resent it. We hate ourselves for staying and we blame ourselves for leaving.
Back when the growing was grass, not concrete, the life to have was the one we were building, not the building we were renting.
That’s when things were easier.
We can remember those days when the daily commute tries to tame us.