Every night I floss my teeth.
Sometimes in the day too
But only if I get a piece of an orange or a mango stuck in my teeth.
I go to work, get home and go for a run.
I cook dinner
One of my biggest accomplishments lately
Is that I've gotten my eating under control.
Now when I look in the mirror
I don't recognize myself.
And I like it.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
medieval
My morning started off with the bomb squad. They'd cordoned off the block around the hospital. It was hard to get to work. Suspicious package which turned out to be an empty briefcase. This city is so packed with police, I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like I should be appalled, but instead I am strangely aroused. Have you see the way they look in there riot gear, baseball hats, and plastic handcuffs hanging off their holsters? It's all too much.
Later this afternoon Toronto was hit with an earthquake. Of course I thought it was a bomb somewhere in the downtown core, given that the G20 is set to take place in a couple of days. Who would ever think it would be an earthquake? I've never had that experience before. In fact, the only thing that prevented me from moving to San Fran a few years ago was that very possibility. Now that I've lived through one—albeit very mild—I think I could handle it just fine.
I feel obliged to mention that even though everyone around me did, I didn't even FEEL it. Normally I describe myself as the princess and the pea. I sense, see, smell, taste, hear and feel EVERYTHING. I have to say, my shrink is going to be impressed. He'll take it as a compliment. I've let down my guard a little. Maybe I have.
It is positively stunning out right now. It is the "natural temperature", which for me means I could be completely naked—and at some level I must long to be—and there wouldn't even be a slight chill in the air. It would be...perfection. So I'm as naked as I can be across the street from the balconies of the next building. I am also hungry. I had a small lunch and then a meeting after work. Instead of eating, I'm having some wine and letting myself unwind. The wine always feels good on an empty stomach. I'm heating up my dinner - a homemade tomato sauce and it smells so good, but it feels good to wait a little. I figure if I can train myself to love being hungry again, like I did when I was 14, I should be all set. I realize that thinking is a bit flawed, but mixed with wine, I could give a shit.
And then there were tornadoes north of the city, and the longest match in the history of tennis. American John Isner and opponent Nicolas Mahut of France, which will continue Thursday. I think they should have flipped the lights on at Wimbledon and just let them play to the death. That would fit the venue, no?
What a day.
Later this afternoon Toronto was hit with an earthquake. Of course I thought it was a bomb somewhere in the downtown core, given that the G20 is set to take place in a couple of days. Who would ever think it would be an earthquake? I've never had that experience before. In fact, the only thing that prevented me from moving to San Fran a few years ago was that very possibility. Now that I've lived through one—albeit very mild—I think I could handle it just fine.
I feel obliged to mention that even though everyone around me did, I didn't even FEEL it. Normally I describe myself as the princess and the pea. I sense, see, smell, taste, hear and feel EVERYTHING. I have to say, my shrink is going to be impressed. He'll take it as a compliment. I've let down my guard a little. Maybe I have.
It is positively stunning out right now. It is the "natural temperature", which for me means I could be completely naked—and at some level I must long to be—and there wouldn't even be a slight chill in the air. It would be...perfection. So I'm as naked as I can be across the street from the balconies of the next building. I am also hungry. I had a small lunch and then a meeting after work. Instead of eating, I'm having some wine and letting myself unwind. The wine always feels good on an empty stomach. I'm heating up my dinner - a homemade tomato sauce and it smells so good, but it feels good to wait a little. I figure if I can train myself to love being hungry again, like I did when I was 14, I should be all set. I realize that thinking is a bit flawed, but mixed with wine, I could give a shit.
And then there were tornadoes north of the city, and the longest match in the history of tennis. American John Isner and opponent Nicolas Mahut of France, which will continue Thursday. I think they should have flipped the lights on at Wimbledon and just let them play to the death. That would fit the venue, no?
What a day.
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