Thursday, February 08, 2007


It must be the time of year. The month.

It's not December, when we're anxious to be with family again. Or March, when the promise of a new beginning is at the edge of our vision and we can smell the warm weather on its way. It's not even November, when nothing is more comforting than the idea of a warm bed, a discoloured afghan and the prospect of hiding away for a weekend to do nothing except fill eyes with words and ears with sound.

Maybe it's the time of the year. Maybe it's the fact that we're all trapped inside. The fact that our entire beings are the product of textbooks, ticking clocks, the closeness of a hot mug of coffee, early bedtimes, empty banks accounts and the reduction of love to binary code.

We're starting to remember. To crave. We're starting letters that will probably never be sent.

We're homesick. Weary, worn, missing. But not for a place or a person--we're craving a moment in time.

We're missing something that we can never have back.

And we're all vowing that we'll do better the next time around.

Next time, when the snow thaws and the ice melts and there aren't so many obligations weighing us down. . .

But when will we remember to do better this time around?


  1. I'm choosing to believe that you're actually asleep in that picture and that you are in fact sucking you're thumb. I do this because in my mind, you strike me as a thumb sucker as a child.

  2. I would also like to apologize for my gross misuse of the apostrophed word you're in the previous post.

  3. Anonymous7:41 PM

    I like anagrams.

  4. I have your Steamwhistle glass, Im coming by tomorrow (aka saturday) to drop them off.

  5. Cool, remind me to give your half the photostrip! I've been carrying it in my wallet for the last month, but forgot to give it to you last Friday night.

  6. Anonymous12:29 AM

    i'm genuinely frightened by how many times you've been to the drake hotel.

  7. Huh? The Drake?
    I'm guessing you're referring to the photobooth strips? All of them are from either West Edmonton Mall or the Steamwhistle incident.