I’m still on vacation so this is acceptable to me. Otis must think it’s breakfast already because he’s tugging on the cuffs of my jeans. Marshall, on the other hand, is completely passed out in the usual spot snoring like an old man. I like that about him.
So Kenny’s come and gone. Just like that. Four quick days. We packed a lot in though and he thanked me for being such a good tour guide.
Half of June is almost over already, summer’s close. This means the beach. This means me beached. This means the smell of crunchy bits of sand under me, tracked into my car, then into my apt on my flip flops. This means me not caring at all. There’s something about summer. Or, the awakening of summer. It makes me so excited in a restoring kind of way. It’s not as intense as when Ottawa would emerge from its winter hubbub but the energy is still there. A city emerging into the atmosphere again. Have you sat at Kits Beach at sunset lately? Or anywhere at sunset? It’s ideal if there is a backdrop of mountains. However, watching a deep orange-pink sunset, wherever you are, with warm wind around you feels amazing.
I don’t really have much to write. Lately that seems to be the way. When I can leave my house in a skirt or shorts, or t-shirts and tank tops, it makes me resent sitting at my laptop. Maybe 1:13AM is more tolerable because the rest of the world is asleep and I won’t be distracted by the sun pouring into my living room grabbing at me to bring me outside.
Maybe I’m writing so you know I’m still here. Maybe I should just go to bed now.
Oh, I finished Such a Long Journey, Rohinton Mistry’s first novel. It was good – really good, definitely what I expect from his writing however, A Fine Balance still stands as one of the most powerful novels I’ve read. Not only by him, but of them all. Two weeks ago, I was sitting on the steps outside my work that are along Broadway completely submerged in S.a.L.J and in front of me was a gentleman handing out free Caffè Artigiano coupons. I was aware of him but lost in my book. When he saw me turn off my mp3 player and bookmark my page he said to me “I didn’t want to disturb you while you were reading Mistry of all writers, but here’s a coupon.” I asked, “Have you read this one? It’s his first.” He remarked no, but did say something along the lines that Mistry, to this day is one of the only novelists who has written something that made this gentleman shed actual tears while reading. “It was A Fine Balance, wasn’t it?” I ascertained. “Oh definitely.”
So there you go. You can check out the links to see what they’re all about, but sometimes the backs are better. Short and sweet, more left unknown. Better that way I find. Now I’m onto Alex Haley’s Roots. Me = Excited.