Thursday, April 08, 2004
Trying to find a billion new ways to write about Sylvia Plath and the romanticization of suicide while I sit in the library checking my email every 2 minutes in hopes of finding an email that says "We'd like to congratulate you on your successful application..."
I headed out of the house today and ran smack into a mother delivering a lecture to her young daughter.
"How are you going to feel when the police show up at your door and they're ready to take you away for destruction of private property?"
I turn to look at the girl, she looks no older than 12. Her younger brother is off in his own world absentmindedly bouncing a ball on the sidewalk.
The mother continues,
"You're 12, do you know what that means? It means people aren't going to take very well to you destroying public property."
All this talk of authority and oddly enough the only other pedestrian on the street without a stake in the argument is a member of the navy just getting off duty. It's hard for anyone to plan it better.
The mother continues with her unfocused tirade.
The girl erupts in tears.
I keep walking.
The girl follows my path off Bloomfield and onto Fuller Terrace. She's wailing and sobbing. She runs behind a church and buries her face in her arms, leaning against the church. I'm surprised that I'm the only one who's even half paying attention. Her mother presumably keeps walking in the other direction.
That girl's going to start loving Sylvia Plath in a few years
I think to myself.
I feel like an asshole.
It's getting late now, I'm at school waiting to hear back about my job. The library administration closes down soon. If I don't hear anything before 5 I most likely either didn't get the job or won't hear anything until Monday at the earliest that is unfortunate because one way or another I have to let the Banff Centre know my intentions concerning the position they're offering me there. It's unbelievable they've emailed me 7 times in the last week asking me to come back. I suppose some people would consider me foolish for even thinking about turning down that position, but I am pretty foolish.
Fuck J.C. and his stupid ascension into heaven. Dude I need a job and your long weekend isn't helping to subside my worries, I don't care about my eternal soul, hook me up!
I headed out of the house today and ran smack into a mother delivering a lecture to her young daughter.
"How are you going to feel when the police show up at your door and they're ready to take you away for destruction of private property?"
I turn to look at the girl, she looks no older than 12. Her younger brother is off in his own world absentmindedly bouncing a ball on the sidewalk.
The mother continues,
"You're 12, do you know what that means? It means people aren't going to take very well to you destroying public property."
All this talk of authority and oddly enough the only other pedestrian on the street without a stake in the argument is a member of the navy just getting off duty. It's hard for anyone to plan it better.
The mother continues with her unfocused tirade.
The girl erupts in tears.
I keep walking.
The girl follows my path off Bloomfield and onto Fuller Terrace. She's wailing and sobbing. She runs behind a church and buries her face in her arms, leaning against the church. I'm surprised that I'm the only one who's even half paying attention. Her mother presumably keeps walking in the other direction.
That girl's going to start loving Sylvia Plath in a few years
I think to myself.
I feel like an asshole.
It's getting late now, I'm at school waiting to hear back about my job. The library administration closes down soon. If I don't hear anything before 5 I most likely either didn't get the job or won't hear anything until Monday at the earliest that is unfortunate because one way or another I have to let the Banff Centre know my intentions concerning the position they're offering me there. It's unbelievable they've emailed me 7 times in the last week asking me to come back. I suppose some people would consider me foolish for even thinking about turning down that position, but I am pretty foolish.
Fuck J.C. and his stupid ascension into heaven. Dude I need a job and your long weekend isn't helping to subside my worries, I don't care about my eternal soul, hook me up!
