hello...is it me your looking for?

I've been listening. A couple of months ago, we got some new neighbors. It started tentatively, but now I must say it's very very present. Right now, I'm listening to someone pound out the theme song to the Simpsons. I imagine those mysterious hands, moving up and down the keyboard with verve and vigour. It's a truly spirited rendition.

I haven't met this new neighbor yet. Not that I know of, anyway. Sometimes I bump into a new face at the recycling station and I wonder if it's he or she. Spinster type or flamboyant Liberace knock-off? Or young prodigy (most likely Asian Canadian)?

I look at my hands typing these words out right now. I imagine that as my hands move across the keys that I am making the sounds I hear on the other side of the wall.

what the jerkies gave me for my birthday

The following birthday presents were given to me — with love — by the beautiful jerkies at NeWorld Theatre:

2 sealed air bags of good vibes
1 jessie richardson award
1 bottle of jagermeister (almost empty)
1 empty box of redbird matches
1 welcome kitty with gold bell
1 mt. pleasant karate club 7th annual tournament 2001 trophy (way to go camyar)
1 empty tin of altoids
2 books: my name is rachel corrie & dark age ahead (just what are they trying to tell me?)
1 prop dinosaur old school cell phone

thanks jerkies. i love you.

call me eve

His name was Adam, a 20-something who looked 15 massage therapist in Regina. He works at the spa at the Hotel Saskatchewan, and he says that Regina is beautiful in the summertime. I believe any word he says, because he is giving me the best massage of my life. We are talking, the conversation is flowing easily. He doesn't make me feel creepy at all. He keeps mentioning his girlfriend. (VERY LUCKY GIRL) He seems like a fine young man, one of Regina's best. One of Canada's best, maybe. Canada's best....hands. Yes, CANADA'S BEST HANDS. All I know is that I never wanted it to end.

At some point, I stopped talking to him. I was WAY too relaxed to keep up a conversation. He did that thing, you know, where they lift up a corner of the sheet and then they look away and get you to turn over. I was so relaxed I kept bumping my head into his arms, saying "Sorry!" He was very gracious, of course.

"Maiko?' he said (he even pronounced my name right!) "Are you awake?"

"What? Oh. Oh yeah, I'm awake." Or is this a really gooooood dream...

If that was Adam, call me Eve.

insomniac, baby

Help Adrienne! I had one of those, you know, the "waking up with a gasp" moments? I decided to stop trying to fall back asleep and maybe get some work done to ease my obviously troubled mind. Sometimes the panic that hits me is palpable, I'm afraid it wakes up Kevin; it's like there's three of us in bed: me, kevin, and my panic. Life is going by so fast right now. I hardly feel the days turning into the next. To make it worse, everyone I know is having babies, which adds to my panic. I feel this growing pressure, like I'm watching this balloon cook inside an oven. It's like there's a turkey cooking in the oven, in one of them big pots with the potatoes and the stuffing, but it's not a turkey, it's a big red balloon, and it's quivering from the pressure of the heat, dripping with gravy and oozing juices. It's hissing. It's about to blow.

And then I know what this is. It's so cliche, I can hardly stand it. My freakin' biological clock. Boom. Boom. Boom. I never thought I would be one to succumb to baby fever. It's not a fever, it's more like a virus, and everyone is infected. It's a mass epidemic crawling through the city...Women's stomachs are popping out all over the place!

A child will bring meaning to my life. It will remind me of why I'm here on this planet. It will leave something remarkable and meaningful behind. It will be an extension of me and of kevin and what we have together and he/she/whoever will be perfect.