SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

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Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Saturday, Nov. 02, 2002 @ 10:20 am
ShinDig



"Hey there customs inspector!"

I spent the entire concert trying to remember when I'd last talked to Mr. W. - where he would have found out that I was working for the government - and how he managed to connect my face with that fact.

The connection did not register until Thursday when I was washing dishes. It was spring two years ago. Sitting on the conveyor belt, a parcel destined to Mr. W. slowly slided by. I snatched it up, scrawled a note, tucked that slip of paper into the box of oboe reeds, taped up the box, rolled my red stamp down the front and promptly forgot about it.

He beamed at us, the 30 alumni, from the director's podium. I smiled inside and out. Band geek, yeah, but it's freaking cool to hear yourself over and within the thick syrup of a concert band.

After the concert a few of us band geeks went down to the local SlimeBar and danced to hippityhop music 'til 1am.

Hallowe'en night was a house party. Would have been a much more fun party if I'd been in the party mood. Still, costumes were creative, conversation flowing, introductions frequent. Totally nice to go to a party where you don't know the majority of the people.

It's been a good week.

Last night was the miniparty. I think it went fairly well, I know I had a good time... Someone pulled my photo albums off of my shelf - "She was so skinny then." Yeah.

We'd gone for perogies before the party. There's this church that has handmade perogies on the first Friday of every month. It was so small town. So many grey heads. We were by far the rowdiest table in that gymnasium.

I'm excited to talk to people at work on Monday. I think I've provided a slew of coffee conversation topics, and I think I've opened up a little of my mystery that I like to keep at work. Now they've seen the farm. "Your decoration scheme is... farm girl but chic... kinda retro... you've got a good eye for colour and arrangement.... it's totally you... everything about this place is you."

I love how people leave their alcohol in the fridge when they leave a party.

I'm picking up bottle caps, pouring out the dregs of the empties. There is zucchini between the cushions of my couch. I introduced Music Snob Rob to John Mayer - and he loved him. The sun slanted in through the blinds this morning and Deuce curled on my chest as I read short stories.

Why did I never have a summer BBQ party?


Roots | Shoots