An important memory

Looking through my old photos this morning, I found one of Sylvie I didn't know I had. I must have met her when I rejoined the Rainbow Chorus in October 2001. We spoke to one another that fall, but nothing more than that.

On January 26, 2002, Bob and Mark hosted a dinner party for the chorus. I brought my new digital camera and took pictures of everyone who was there. Sylvie was playing Chopin on Bob's piano.



Bob showed us his music collection. I found my favourite Rachmaninoff prelude and played it along with several other pieces. Sylvie and I realized we loved the same Romantic composers.

I thought, "I have to get to know this girl."

And I did. By June we were pals.

This photo means much more to me now than when I took it.

I have to go work now.

Magic noodles

Another reason why I know my mother is trying to slowly destroy me: she taught me certain appetities. I just surrendered to the siren call of the Kraft Dinner in my cupboard, cooking and ingesting an entire box, minus packaging, with a few celery sticks for lunch.

I hear words echoing in my head, something about carbohydrates in autumn, but can't quite remember. Now I am becoming sleepy, very sleepy.