To stop the spread of fear and blame, it will surely take more than a tampon. Real leadership, open dialogue, and compassion must emerge.
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I spent the rest of the week continuing to observe and pass judgment. It was a few days before the drinkers showed up; a nice group of gen-something-or-others that had beer hidden behind a tree and every lap, pulled over for a swig.
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The door to a house I can no longer visit, and don’t even know if it still exists, will always be a sacred symbol to me. If I want to believe the dream analysts, then I have to accept that hiding behind that door in my dreams means I am afraid, insecure, out of control, and needing to escape. On the other side of that door lies madness.
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I may not be a lion in a room full of squirrels (like Greta) but for now, I’m happy to be a bad rapper in a room full of teenagers.
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With a veritable war going on between teachers and the provincial government, I expected school to be a very charged environment; consumed by hushed discussions and choking on uncertainty like a toxic smell from a dirty microwave.
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Hot flashes in the desert are as enjoyable as tattooing oneself sober with a safety pin and a bottle of bacteria-laced ink. It not only looks bad, it feels pretty bad too.
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I wanted the flowers I wanted to know who cared enough. I wanted to hear from people I loved in case it would make me feel better. I was trying to feel better instead of this other thing.
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“Please stop buying dresses off Amazon!” I begged.
“But I really like this one” he whined, with the cracked voice of a typical 16 year old adolescent male.
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Someone stopping by unannounced sends my brain into a social tailspin and feels like fireworks have just been dropped in my lap; all I can do is smile, pretend it doesn’t burn and act like sparks from my loins are normal.
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The gravy on our midwest mash was definitely the killer soundtrack that conspicuously seeped from Cleveland speakers and radio stations like a gas leak in an office building, poisoning us with ‘awesome’ every time we set foot in the car or relaxed in a restaurant.
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.figure out what you forgot to do today and try to do it in the last 20 minutes before guzzling Nyquil
try to wash your face (because you forgot) before the Nyquil kicks in
I no longer wanted this adventure. Limping and stained, I decided, I want to go home. (Three weeks in Abu Dhabi)
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Like a rabid dog, he snarled fake pleasantries in my direction while keeping me in his peripheral vision. I was trapped.
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‘Alone time’ seems like an impractical luxury, like using a diamond encrusted shovel to pick up dog poop or taking a limousine to a doctor’s appointment. Why? How?
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Me, I’m going to lose 5 lbs, or a half stone for the Bridget Jones fans. It will not be from having a dry January, trodding on a treadmill or tossing sweets in the trash. No such nonsense for me.
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Thank goodness two of my three kids are too old for school journals and have not had to ask their teacher how to spell motherf@!&?!.
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Whoever you are Kitsgal , I love you. I love you deeply.
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The mission of the Toronto International Film festival is to “transform the way people see the world through film”. That morning I amazed myself. With the dedication of a surgeon mid-procedure, I ignored the community around me and threw myself into the world of make-believe as if it were life itself.
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