This morning, as I headed towards the subway, I saw a young guy walk up behind another young guy, trip him up on purpose, making him fall to the ground. He subsequently started insulting him and pushing him agressively. The other guy was clearly surprised, they probably didn't even know eachother. What shocked me the most: the contrast of the innocent surprise of the attackee, who didn't even fight back, with the pure and intense viciousness on the face of the attacker. People are capable of such low acts, it's depressing when you think about it.

And then there were all the passersby, not doing anything, including myself. How easy it is to stand by idly or to look the other way...

On the plus side today: beatiful nude breasts on display again from the neighbor's window...

I've noticed for a while now that the neighbors at the back of our house often don't fully close the blinds in their bathroom. They're mid-twenties to mid-thirties I'm guessing. Aside from pajamas, etc. I've seen a few bare butt cheeks and a male torso. But yesterday, as I looked up from my kitchen window, I could clearly see two stark naked neighbors. First the man's groin, flaccid so not much to see, but clearly not shaven. And then the woman's chest, a truly inspirational pair of breasts...

I don't know whether they enjoy being watched or don't realise what a show they're putting on, but I wouldn't mind seeing those breasts every day...

My good deed for today, hopefully good for my karma:

My cat comes into the living room and BF says "kitty, what kind of a strange hunting trophy are you bringing us?" I approach and see that he's carrying a dragonfly in his mouth. I look even closer and see that the dragonfly, contrary to the mice he has brought us in the past, is alive! I'm not a fan of bugs, but I made kitty drop the dragonfly, chased him out of the living room and scooped the dragonfly up to release him outside.

Two mysteries:
- the dragonfly was entirely unharmed
- I'm still wondering how kitty caught the dragonfly, he must be a skillful hunter... I can't even remember ever having seen a dragonfly where I live

Yes, Monday blues again... It doesn't help that this time I also have to deal with the 'shock' of going from summer hours to regular hours, such loooooong days...

But at least I got a work-out done this evening: 70 minutes walking on the treadmill. And hung up a big basket of freshly washed clothes (I usually postpone laundry until the closet is empty...). And I read 30 pages in a book (Adeline Yen Mah - Watching the tree), probably more pages by bedtime. Those are some good points on my 'eliminate procrastination' task list!

I slide down in the bath tub, feeling the warm water surround me. The spotlights above me are dimmed and through the blinds I can see the full moon shining brightly. I absorb the melodious sounds of classical music coming from the radio. I let my mind wander, fluttering from thought to thought but never settling down, like a summer breeze carrying the scent of autumn.

I don’t know how long he had been waiting, but I first saw him at the start of winter last year.
As the subway train rose above ground and the sides of the tunnel fell away, my eyes followed the familiar route: a tired but well kept office building, a few plots of communal gardens, a wall of psychedelic graffiti stretching some hundred yards and finally, a derelict terrain.
It was there that I noticed him, lying on his side, staring at me. The way he looked through me disconcerted me. But I presume that, in the end, all teddy bears have the same empty gaze.
The slight slope on which he rested was strewn with gravel, shards of glass and tile, broken bricks and tufts of withered weeds and grass. An eight foot fence surrounded this wasteland, although it was unclear who or what the enclosure was meant to keep out.

For several weeks I looked up from my book as I passed by him on my way to and from work. And each time, I wondered at the conundrum of how this forlorn bear had made its way onto the enclosed terrain; there seemed to be no open gate or break in the fence.
One day, the city decided to dress itself in white. When I went by him once again and a light dusting of snow blanketed every surface, I felt a sudden longing to be one of the snowflakes floating down to cover him. No longer ragged and unwanted, he looked content.
As winter shuffled into spring, my reflections shifted from how to why this toy bear had been discarded, in such a desolate location. But the answer, although at my fingertips, eluded me. Only when the weeds and grass grew thigh high and hid him from view, did I realize that he looked exactly like Barney, my childhood companion.

On a Saturday, right before bedtime, my father had presented him to me as a gift. My birthday wasn’t for a few months. On Sunday morning, Barney the Bear was still there, but my father was gone. My mother offered no explanation, as if he had never existed.
One week later, while my mother slept, I packed my toy suitcase and went out the door, clutching Barney under my arm. I walked to the end of our street and waited for the bus to take me to my father. I was convinced the bus driver would know where he had gone. Ten minutes later, my mother arrived in her bathrobe to take me home; the neighbors had warned her. Hand in hand, we walked home in silence. It would take me twenty years to understand the look on her face that morning, as I still clung to my farewell gift.

Two years later, during a road trip with my mother, I had found myself staring at Barney, at his threadbare face and glassy eyes. Without thought, I opened the window, grabbed my beloved bear and threw him outside, not looking back. The sky turned a deeper shade of blue.

Have you ever noticed that the phrase "I'm not a racist but..." is usually followed by a racist statement? Seriously, one of my coworkers stated new immigration laws as an answer to agression in our society. WTF?

Sometimes I don't feel part of life, as if I'm just standing by the sidelines watching it all unfold. Behind a glass wall, I'm the observer, feeling the wild wind tugging at my body to pull me away to a place where even writing can't save me.

So the evening turned out pretty good despite my previous blog. Not so fun: their bickering (which seems to be their normal way of functioning as a couple) and how they can't hold a conversation when their baby son is in the room. Better: compliments on my clothes and hair and on the food (which BF prepared by himself).

Today: I'll get started on the mountains of dirty clothes waiting after our holiday, and continuing with my photo album. It's crappy weather here anyway, so perfect for staying indoors...
Have a great Sunday!

So some friends are coming over tonight for dinner. It's a couple we know, and they have a son who's 18 months or so. We had agreed that they would come around 6 PM. They just called and explained that because of their son's irregular napping, they might come earlier or later. Up to two hours earlier.

I know I can be a bitch, but really, potentially two hours earlier? I can understand later (not wanting to wake the baby up) but why (that much) earlier ? I'm pissed off, how on earth can I plan my afternoon this way, it's not like I don't have other stuff to do.

Did I mention that they're actually my BF's friends originally? They always seem to find a way to annoy me. On a previous occasion, the woman had eaten almost none of my dishes, claiming a stomach bug. But when she ate two large plates of the main course, alarm bells rang in my head. She had avoided: alcohol, raw vegetables, raw eggs. The next day, BF had called to ask if she was pregnant and they had vigorously denied ("we're too young for kids". A few weeks later, it turned out that she was pregnant. So: flat out lying to us, and on top of that no apology. And she still brings up this anecdote, as if it's funny to relive it

Yeah, I know, I sound like a real bitch, I'm venting my frustration before they arrive