Tuesdy May 31, 2016
from a Foot Locker store
Karl tried to hang the frame after hearing me ask him to do it for the past 6 months. I think the only reason why it took him so long is because he didn’t know how to..but also didn’t want me to know that. Not that I would have cared. I didn’t know how to so that’s why I asked him to do it. I’m sure we could have both learned together how to hang a simple frame and everything would have been fine, but we preferred to argue about the fact that it hadn’t yet been done. The first moment he held the nails in his hand, I knew he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. I left the room to “go fold the laundry” so he wouldn’t have the added pressure of me watching him. I heard him tapping away at the wall and I could only imagine that it was coming along nicely. I didn’t want to ask how he was so I just sat on the bed reading my magazine until I got the go ahead. Instead, suddenly, I heard a scream.
I rushed out of the bedroom to find Karl shaking his head at the frame I had asked him to hang, smashed to pieces on the rug.
Wednesday November 25, 2015 at Platform Vancouver
We hear laboured breath, thumping, pausing, groaning, then more thumping, some light twinkling, then a thud.
Mom’s got the Christmas box out and she’s ready to go.
We hear a lot of rustling, then a small shriek, a giggle, and the crash of a thousand holiday CDs hitting the floor.
She’s going to turn this house into a merry one if it kills her. And it might. All that stuff is heavy and mom has always had a terrible back.
My brother looks at me.
“Should we go and help her?”
I don’t respond.
I don’t want to.
“You can go if you want,” I tell him.
“Well why don’t you want to help, too?”
“Because I hate Christmas,” I tell him.
“You hate everything.” He says back, resuming his video game.
Suddenly we hear Rosie O’Donnell’s Christmas album blaring.
“If we help maybe we won’t have to listen to this garbage that Mom likes.” My brother tries again.
Wednesday March 18, 2015 at Aroma Espresso Bar
overheard at aroma espresso bar
The first thing I did was dance. Second thing was shove a Ham and Swiss baked croissant into my mouth. Still dancing. Still moving. Eating dancing moving breathing. Living. That’s what it was. Fear leaving the body. Pain released into a thousand tiny gold flakes, decorating the sky. The ham and cheese croissant was the only thing allowed in my stomach. No more knots. No more anxiety. No more burying my feelings so deep within me they could hide behind organs and slip under the radar. After the dancing eating moving breathing, FREEING thing I was doing, I threw my head back and I just laughed and laughed and laughed. The day felt warm again and I felt whole–like a hot, gooey pizza ready to be devoured by the hungry and the good.