(So I'm moving, and I'm packing, and there are things I'm on the fence about. I need your help. Tell me what stays and what goes. And what you want me to give you.)
Things currently living in apartment-purge purgatory.
1. Panasonic portable cassette player ('Walkman'). Still in working order, at least as of time and place of last use (Vancouver, August 2005, when I decided iPods were stupid and I would never own one and instead I'd revive the lost art of the mix tape).
2. Frankenstein (1815 Text). Last read (partially) in April 2001 in preparation for a Major British Writers final at the University of Toronto. (I should know what distinguishes the 1815 Text from the other versions but clearly I retained nothing other than the memory that the guy who guest lectured on this book also taught a Sci Fi course that my boyfriend took and he talked about Blade Runner in it and isn't that weird to study Blade Runner?)
3. A Guide to the Selected Poems of T.S. Eliot by BC Southam (6th Ed.). Some spine damage due to being thrown against the wall of a Walmer Road slumhouse in the fall of 2002.
4. How Green Was My Valley on DVD, still in original plastic shrinkwrap. (Who needs to watch this movie more than once? Really. If I wanted to weep for 4 days I'd pull out my own teeth, or watch Steel Magnolias again.)
5. The entire John Hughes catalogue on VHS cassette (including the oeuvre's dark horse, Some Kind of Wonderful).
6. Approximately 76 candle holders/creme brulee pots/teacups/spare thank you notes, some with envelopes.
Any takers?
Showing posts with label so long ottawa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label so long ottawa. Show all posts
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
The things you take with you.
Things I might actually miss about Ottawa.
-walking home alone alone on warm nights, crossing the Queensway and knowing I'm nearly home.
-getting home late at night, and knowing I'm the only girl awake in the Glebe.
-sneaking gin and juice (or chardonnay, or a good merlot) onto the Bluesfest grounds at LeBreton Flats in a Nalgene bottle.
-cooling down in the air-conditioned calm of the War Museum lobby between bitchin' sets.
-knowing Elizabeth Hay is kind of my neighbour.
-Ottawa Morning. Mostly Stu Mills, whose velvet voice and vegan leanings make me swoon.**
-the adorable boys who work at the Crappy Loeb and blush when they make change and sometimes score pot from the person in front of me in line.
-the equally adorable boys who work at Bridgehead and come around the counter to hand my coffee to me before going back to discuss their ideas for their next tattoos.
-the canal. I always wished for a river to skate away on, and for a few years, I had one.
-wandering through the National Gallery on a Friday afternoon, sneaking around corners to hide from security guards, running through as many galleries as possible before closing time.
-Saturday morning walks to get the paper, and days spent watching Arlo chase the sun across my apartment.
-my apartment.
-you.
**Last summer I had the incredibly surreal experience of being on Ottawa Morning and I sat across the table from Stu as he prepped to read the news at the top of the clock. After my interview was over, I skulked around until he was done and followed him across the street to Bridgehead, where I tried to reach out and touch his vintage leather jacket as he passed by me. It was maybe the best fifteen minutes of my entire time in this city.
-walking home alone alone on warm nights, crossing the Queensway and knowing I'm nearly home.
-getting home late at night, and knowing I'm the only girl awake in the Glebe.
-sneaking gin and juice (or chardonnay, or a good merlot) onto the Bluesfest grounds at LeBreton Flats in a Nalgene bottle.
-cooling down in the air-conditioned calm of the War Museum lobby between bitchin' sets.
-knowing Elizabeth Hay is kind of my neighbour.
-Ottawa Morning. Mostly Stu Mills, whose velvet voice and vegan leanings make me swoon.**
-the adorable boys who work at the Crappy Loeb and blush when they make change and sometimes score pot from the person in front of me in line.
-the equally adorable boys who work at Bridgehead and come around the counter to hand my coffee to me before going back to discuss their ideas for their next tattoos.
-the canal. I always wished for a river to skate away on, and for a few years, I had one.
-wandering through the National Gallery on a Friday afternoon, sneaking around corners to hide from security guards, running through as many galleries as possible before closing time.
-Saturday morning walks to get the paper, and days spent watching Arlo chase the sun across my apartment.
-my apartment.
-you.
**Last summer I had the incredibly surreal experience of being on Ottawa Morning and I sat across the table from Stu as he prepped to read the news at the top of the clock. After my interview was over, I skulked around until he was done and followed him across the street to Bridgehead, where I tried to reach out and touch his vintage leather jacket as he passed by me. It was maybe the best fifteen minutes of my entire time in this city.
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