Scary.

Apparently I turn 27 and immediately start wanting kids. In this case I was talking about how wonderful the book Little Men is, and was struck by the desire to have a roomful of kids in bed to read it aloud to. I want to be Jo Bhaer! I want to run a tiny school for boys (and girl)! Full of hijinks! With my kindly professor husband! Oh no!

Champagne Birthday

It is my birthday, for a few more minutes. Thank you to everyone who made the day special, that being everyone, everywhere, ever. But especially my friends and family.

I had a good day - despite the minor meltdown when my blood sugar was too low. It made me think of this book, which was one of my favourites as a kid:

I definitely had a LOT of birthday. More than enough to last me another year. Or at least until my half birthday.

Here is my present to myself: Angela. I love you. I will take you out to a movie in the near future, just us.

I am really happy to have so many great people in my life. Including me. And you.

Starting Out in the Evening

I've started to think that all stories are about loneliness and connection. Or maybe just the stories I love. Starting Out in the Evening is a beautiful film about the nuances of connection, about age, about love. I loved the structure; this is a film about brilliant people, people who shape words into art, but as the story deepens words become less important, or rather, the emotions are much less easily expressed and words sometimes fall away. This is why I love cinema - the perfection of moments in which there is no dialogue, and sometimes only the smallest action, but what appears on screen is so human and real and evocative.

Plus I want all of Lauren Ambrose's wardrobe for this film. I am such a grad student.

5/5 stars.

Something I said

Apparently I've decided that saying "high five" without any corresponding action is an appropriate way to express my enthusiasm. It could just be that I was outside in the cold, with hands in my pockets, not wanting to expose them to the elements. But I still kind of think it's awesome. I'm not sure my friend (who sort of half raised her hand in response) agreed.

Things I'm thinking about.

Snow. Annie Hall. Chicken noodle soup. New York. Ampersands. Walt Whitman. The Academy Awards. Writing. A nap. Laundry.

Chopsticks

I have never been much of a collector. I tried a few times, as a kid, to come up with something to collect. For a while I thought frogs. But nothing stuck. I am, by nature, an editor, not a hoarder. I tend to let go of as much as I pick up.

But now, I have organically happened upon the perfect collection.

Chopsticks.

My first three pairs: I love them all. I love them because they each have different personalities. Yep, I sound like a crazy collector already. At least I have chosen something small and cheap.

2009

I just wanted to post in 2009 as soon as possible. Which is actually sooner than it says, because I am actually in Pacific time but it says I am posting in Atlantic time. Which I will be back to very soon.

It feels like a ghost-town, Halifax. Like it doesn't actually exist. The same will be true for Vancouver, once I am gone.

I don't know if it's Vancouver or working at the Library again, or just having a chunk of time where my brain isn't coiling around homework, but I've been thinking about writing. And stories. Fragments are working their way around me, hopefully compiling. The image that comes to mind is one of those toys where the iron filaments are attracted to the magnet pen. Not that I actually know how those things work (wait, now I do. I googled it.).

This book is on my list of miracle cures for turning ideas and words and phrases into stories. I know, I know - just write. Okay.

Happy New Year.