Saturday, September 13, 2008

Conversation continued

My brother came into my room this morning to continue our conversation on oxymorons from last night.

Him: "What about a good robber?"

Me: "No."

Him: "A small tree."

Me: "No."

Him: "A short tall guy?!"

XKCD: Nerd Girls/A phantom toe in the door

I'm now the new editor-in-chief of a business school paper. 15 on staff, all boys. Oh, the excitement and trepidation. I've also been given carte blanche to restructure and revamp as needed. Next stop: Reuters. Choo-choo!

No, really. It is. Meeting the VP of the Canadian division in a few short weeks.

Unemployment sucks ...


Conversation with my younger brother this evening:

Him: "What's an oxymoron?"

Me: "Living dead. Jumbo shrimp. Words with contradictory meaning."

Him: "You mean, like, a wooden car or an underwater bird?"

Stick to math, my adorable little genius.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

And life goes on ...

After all that's happened, here's hoping I don't speak in clichés.


MArt and I broke up. We shared a joint on the balcony of his new place as the uptight Chinese couple next door slammed their screen shut.

"I love how I can see over the tree tops," he mused.

Red from exposure with the sun pulling moisture from his knees, MArt sat there content.

This was it, I thought. After nearly 2 and a half years together, we've finally acknowledged the inevitability of our demise. It was sad, yet not unexpected. A swan song of sorts, concluding the extended public performance we both endured.

My love for him now steadfast, I wish him nothing but the best.


Goodbye Montreal, here I come Toronto.