Wish you were here

So I was listening to a friend talk about her son's first year at university and thinking about mine. I wasn't partying and stuff, because I'm the boring chick, but I did feel free. Now that I know what it's like to get paid biweekly, I'm not sure I could ever find that "free" again.

But anyway, at least now I'm doing stuff in the 8:30 to 4:30 prime time slot that isn't so incredibly suck-the-life-out-of-a-person dead boring. I feel like there's an academic aspect to what I do now. Which may not be the case in the traditional sense, but I'm learning and it's a challenge and I guess I equate that with school.

I still remember what I wore to university on my first day. I remember sitting on a concrete ledge outside university centre. I remember thinking that I wouldn't like English as a subject. I remember it was hot and I was wearing a hoody and I felt free. There was a string quartet in front of Fletcher Argue. I don't think the Robin's Donuts was there yet...

Balzac's Cafe - Sept. 3, 2006 @ 4:22 p.m.

Belated

So the thing is that the longer you put off doing something, the harder it becomes to climb that mountain again. It just seems taller and the expectations seem less surmountable.

And that's really my only excuse.

Now I'm online, loading pictures from my trip to the Distillery District with Nancy yesterday on flickr. We went because I have always wanted to go there and because they supposedly have a farmers' market every Sunday. For some reason, a farmers' market can mean something as little as a table and half of questionable produce. Actually, these guys did look legit, but it really wasn't anything to brag about. However, this might serve as an explanation to those of you looking at my pictures and finding the several shots of the outdoor handwashing station. You never know when this info could be useful...

I bought an awesome pair of bronzite earrings from Ku Jewelry.

It wasn't bad, but it would have been better if it was sunny. So much for summer....I'm wearing socks this very instant. I'm starting to think about my flannel sheets. September can be depressing.

For an interesting little read, check out Catherine's tale of Bill the Koala.