The sunny side of the street is both sides, baby
That may sound like a glass half full kind of thing when it’s actually just the way it goes after an eye appointment. What’s a glass half full thing is when you listen to your endorphins when they cheer you on in the totally wrong direction, the little fuckers
I went for my first appointment with the cataract surgeon yesterday and I don’t know why it was a surprise to me when she put those drops in but it was. And I didn’t bring my sunglasses because it was so cloudy and I told her I didn’t have them and she said “don’t worry it’s cloudy” and I said “but still” and she said “I know” and then we went ahead and did the tests and booked the surgery and it took maybe an hour and a half during which time the clouds zipped off and when I got out of the building the sky was that beautiful hard blue it gets when its freezing and it was snowing in a very shiny way so I guess there was a cloud or two hidden behind all the glass buildings.
It was like looking into a kaleidoscope and getting stabbed in the eyeballs at the same time
Also to make matters worse which is funnier than making matters better, I had unzipped my hood from my coat that very morning, quite consciously too, and left it on the bed like a ferret. Also I unwrapped a nice grey alpaca wool scarf that was so soft when I bought it I doubted its authenticity – I mean how could something so soft come from such a spitty Wiley creature (autocorrect thinks Wiley is the Alpaca’s name and maybe it is) – and when I say unwrapped, I mean from around my neck because it was too warm, and the gym heat hadn’t quite left me.
And those yappy little endorphins weren’t dead yet and they kept shouting everything’ll-be-great!
But they were dead when I walked back up Bay Street into the sun and against the wind, looking just like Bob Seger with his eyes closed, and the gym heat was also long gone and I had my very new white runners on so even looking down hurt. But I made it to Bloor, guessing the colour of the lights all the way, and I turned left instead of straight to the subway because I had one little stop to make.
So I cautiously stumbled into the most sparkly store in the universe
I don’t go to Tiffany’s very often, but I was able to navigate by memory pretty well and it was early in the day so the very diamond-clad sales people were able to help me and I quickly spent a fortune and if my kids are reading this, it’s not for you.
I’ve got to tippy-toe around my room because my daughter Anna is trying to sleep in the room below me right now and she is probably churning and angsting, fuck off spellcheck, half because the floors squeak, and the other half over the horse
I bet you think that’s a typo but it’s not. She is buying a horse. Which I guess is the biggest animal you can buy. And they eat a lot and poo a lot and need a lot and this particular one ain’t even broke yet pardner.
She’s already very Annie Oakley, always has been, so I have no doubt she can do it
And contrary to the manner in which she learned to ride, which was all classy and expensive and English, she’s gonna break this horse western style, which she learned during her stint in Calgary where she went to school to become a blacksmithing farrier, and where her heart remains.
She’s having the angst, mostly I think, about picking the perfect name
Any ideas?
