Wednesday February 10, 2016
When I think of our children, we only have 2, you win, I see one with little curls, one with glasses, and both with big innocent loving smiles. How bad would it be if I pictured our kids frowning? They’re not, though. They’re so happy. They have your heart. They have your never ending optimism and your family first attitude. They have my temper, both hilarious and terrifying. I like that they snarl at things as much as they laugh. They don’t give up when enough is enough. They don’t understand “enough.” Maybe I shouldn’t be proud that they’re miniature versions of a trait I’m trying to eradicate. But I am. Anger is an emotion that creates change, carries it, lifts it up, and shoots it to the moon. I think Alanis said that. The part about anger being the vessel for moving forward.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
From a stamp in the sidewalk cement
In 2009 he finally remembered the words to A Case Of You. He wrote them on a cocktail napkin and slid it along the bar to the woman with curly hair and a nose that reminded him of Leonard Cohen. She read it aloud, to his surprise. She had a French accent and he liked how the words sounded like butter and satin. “I would still be on my feet,” she looked up at him and smiled. He thought about the children they would have and how he would keep her a secret from the people (his brother, his brother’s partner Vincent) that would tell him it wouldn’t work out in the long run, he shouldn’t get too invested. He preferred hundred metre dashes. He bought her a bourbon sour. She took out the straw and folded it inside itself creating a circle. She was visiting. She would be back in Paris in October. He ordered them a charcuterie board and a selection of local cheeses.