cause = time

... is not just for broken social scenes.

the ways in which we measure time in the western world has been a subject of inquiry rattling around my brain for some time now. I say this on the threshold of freedom, mere weeks away from final projects or exams being nothing more than a memory. It seems misguided to calculate life in scholastic terms, but during crunch time I just can't help it. I anxiously make lists and make follow up interviews. I wonder where I will find time in the future, how I will use (or misuse, considering the very act of blogging) time in the present and where my time has gone in days past. In the aftermath of a weekend spent like a party girl, (likely to produce a party blog when picking up film is a chore that is remembered) the past is the contemplation that hits me now like a phantom headache of hangovers gone by.

William and I bid a gracious adieu tonight via the telephone and I was a little sad about it. Having someone to invite out & show & entertain & introduce fills me with a warmth that only montreal pride inspires.

break.

J. just came by to do her laundry and feed me cupcake. bless her. we sat around drinking white dep wine and talked at length about where we came from and where we are going. I appreciate the people in my life who are reciprocating moral compasses. especially ones who were there, are here and will be there. these are the ones who know me best. quote of the evening: "being a wife fucking sucks."



to the woman inspired me to try the waist high, love.