Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Observation exercise

She sat beside me on a bench, the traffic of University Ave. buzzing by on either side of the outer flowerbeds. Maybe she made a call on her cell phone - I was deeply engaged in my book and didn't notice her really until she stood up from the bench and spread a picnic blanket on the small strip of grass directly in front of me.

The ever so familiar Dominion plastic bag in hand, she kicked off her cheap flip flops and sat down cross-legged, smoothing out the puffs of air resting beneath the blanket.

Looking self-conscious but not minding my direct view, she began unpacking the grocery bag. First, twin fruit, yogurt, and granola containers - the pre-made kind you buy from the pre-made salad shelf. The shelf I frequented almost daily during my time at The Department this past year. Those must have set her back a whopping $3.99 each. She laid them on the blanket side by side, out of the way. Next she pulled out two Mandarin Chicken Salads. Yes, I know these things by name. And because a picnic isn't a picnic without it, she also had a container of grocery store sushi rolls. California, I bet, but can't confirm. She emptied the bag, with two fancy bottled smoothies, one pink and one yellow. I could literally trace her steps through the store.

The store, which sits on Bloor and is teeming with students buying pre-made salads and frozen pizzas.

But we're on Hospital Row, which is instead teeming with healthcare workers and suits. And researchers trying to get away with fancy pants and sneakers, but I digress.

My lunch is more or less over, but I want to stay to see who her lunch guest will be. I'm almost certain it's a boy - like she'd go to so much effort for anyone else, but then again it's all store bought and demonstrates very little creativity. Plus, despite the healthy eating hoorah happening these days, I don't know how happy many men would be about lettuce, rice, and granola. I'm also willing to bet she doesn't know him all that well. She chooses two of the same of everything, except for the smoothies where she guesses with two popular colours/flavours - she can't go wrong, but clearly she doesn't know that his favourite drink is Blue Powerade and he much prefers Greek to Mandarin, for example.

She's wearing the typical student uniform; the flip flops I've already mentioned, along with too-tight jeans that emphasize her slight stomach rolls showing from beneath her simple tank top. I forget to notice her face or hair. She's not memorable.

I go back to my book. She waits. I glance up. She's putting a thick, hard-cover book without its jacket away into her satchel, looking up into the distance. She stands, smiles, and meets him. They hug for longer than a greeting between friends, but it definitely doesn't feel like a comfortable, long-time couple. I like being right. They don't kiss, but sit down on the blanket together. I try not to stare so I don't notice his reaction to the things she's laid out. Does he look impressed? Does he even look?

They sit for a moment before she suddenly pulls him by the arm towards her and they share a quick peck. She deserves that much after all this effort, damn it. I'd be willing to bet this is something like date number 3, and the transition from goodnight-in-the-dark kissing to out-in-the-open-guess-what-I-like-you kissing takes some guts.

His legs bend out awkwardly, his dress-shoes just off the blanket on the grass, until he abandoms them and sits cross-legged. He looks sharp in his dress-shirt and dress-pants and dress-frames. He's cute. Good for her. Good for them.

Lunch is over and my curiosity is satisfied. I leave these two to their granola on the grass.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

That feeling

You know that feeling when you just wake up from sleeping so soundly and for just a moment all is well until a wave of the memory of all the shit on your mind hits you like a brick?

Oh yeah, I'm heartbroken.

Oh right, I'm stressed.

Oh shit, I'm nervous.

Things like that.

I don't like that feeling.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Hey, MSG

Come on, you can't stay mad at me.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Rainy Sunday

I cut off the rest of the straight bits yesterday. In the kitchen with kitchen scissors and a plastic bag full of hair. What do I have against hairdressers, anyway?

What to do on this rainy Sunday morning?