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2000-08-22 || 10.07a Hi there, it's me again! At any rate, aside from updating at an startlingly quick rate, I'm apparently too Canadian. As soon as I find out what she means by this, I'm gonna slip on my whup-ass gloves and do some damage. By the by, Nicks, What an entry... So, Lover's recovery is proceeding in leaps and bounds. To-day's her first full day at work and I imagine she's pretty happy about it. Unfortunately, her recovery seems to be on an opposite and equal course to my own health. I'm doing everything I can to not get sick: Plenty of liquids, eating well, trying to sleep, but this morning I woke up feeling, shall we say, delicate. Dammit. This is my first vacation in a long time coming up. If I spend it sick I will be in an ex-TREMELY bad humour about the whole thing. I'm also afraid of ford. If I can't go, she'll survive, I know. The damage she'll probably cause me the next time I see her will most likely force me to remain abed for a long, loooong time... ********** When my mother was a young girl, she used to sleep in the same bed with four or five other assorted sisters and cousins. They slept on the bed sideways, so as to fit them all in. Not at home, mind. This was whenm they went to visit their aunt Agnes, who live in The Point and who used to feed them mayonnaise sandwiches on white sandwich bread. They had to sleep with their coats on and their schoolbooks under their heads so that Aggie wouldn't use them as fuel for the iron stove. Outside, drunken Scotsmen could be hear at all hours, brogueing their way through stories and six-packs and muttering darkly about the Irish on the other side of the elevated traintracks that split Pointe-St-Charles in two. It's a different neighbourhood nowadays. The Irish are still there, but the Scottish are mostly gone, replaced by lower-income French Canadian families. The neighbourhood isn't quite as poor anymore, either. My cousins still live there, though many of them could afford higher-income areas, and I know why. From my cloistered Westmount flat, I can see the difference clearly, especially as I lived in a ghetto for a looong time before clawing my way to where I am now. The difference lies in the word 'neighbourhood.' The poor kids play in groups after school, a parent or two always sitting nearby just to make sure nothing happens. The rich kids get driven out through their iron gates to soccer practise, where they will play with the sons of their fathers' business associates, then go to violin lessons, and come home to supper and TV before bed. Some Westmount kids never even know who else lives on their block. I don't even know who else live in my triplex. This is still a new thing for me. I guess it's a balance thing. I never see people get shot or stabbed anymore, a fact for which I am (believe me) grateful. But I never really see kids playing in groups anymore, either. I don't know if the kids in Westmount and places like that are losing out on something important, but my suspicion is that yes, they are. No idea how I ended up on this subject. |
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shite One last little note... - 09.21.2006 de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006 Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006 More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006 Scary stuff - 05.25.2006
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