norris vs. taylor

do you ever have those mornings that you wake up and you have this pit in your stomach that stems from guilt or sadness or hurt? i am hoping this isn't a phonomenon just common to me. i used to wake up that way in Belgium (and i would like to say that that only happened for the first few weeks but that would be a blatant and total lie). I used to wake up with that feeling after my first serious boyfriend and i broke up (and i would also be lying if i said that only lasted a few weeks as well). i use that feeling as my emotional barometre. if i am seriously hurting, i will have that pain. if i am not, it just won't be there. it is either a kick in the pants to get moving or else it is a warning to address what is going on with me. i woke up with that feeling this morning. There are several things it could be: stress about work this summer, my upcoming trip (which has run into quite a few snafus), a misunderstanding with a friend that last night (which i still feel like quite an idiot about)...i don't know. part of me thinks it might just be a feeling of loss: j. has been around the past few days and i miss him when he is not around. but it always worries me when it comes.

we (and i use the term we loosely--at least one of us can cook) did manage to make a stunningly delicious pork roast on friday night. j. discovered a recipe online (with a medium difficulty i might add) and we headed to kensington to shop for the basics. i love kensington market. i mentionned to j. about living here one day and he looked at me like the crazy that i am and said simply, "this place is too sketchy to live. its a nice place to visit but..." and i looked around, and to my chagrin, realized that he was quite right. a particular example: while waiting for me in the bakey (which he has boycotted due to roaches...i vote that all bakeries have bugs!), he watched a raggedy man spot a glove near a bench and proceed to pour coffee on it. what? why? i would have thought that a homeless person would have been less...wasteful. but its true. even with all the colour and flavour of the little place, it does seem to attract a, ahem, variety of people.

after we collected our produce and meat (is there anything better than going to three separate independent shops for bread, produce, and meat?), after we prepared our roast and left it to cook for three hours, j. and i met stephanie, tasha, and lorien at the ROM. its is always fun to go somewhere that i associate with childhood memories. its never the same and is usually a lot smaller. not much is open to the public right now, as there are serious renovations currently underway, but you still get that museum-y atmosphere. these kind of events, though often only an hour or two, are often the highlights of my week. good company, interesting things to look at, new stories that emerge...i learn more about myself and my life in there settings than i do in a classroom.

actually, i am really chafing with the classroom yoke right now. i spent a brief part of the afteroon checking out tours in egypt for a few weeks this summer. my brother, jeff, and i were supposed to be visiting our parents but really, we're in it for the adventure. but. his exams are all over the place and not conducive whatsoever to me working this summer. so it might not be quite the trip i had planned. which, actually, really disappoints me. i am trying to talk julia t. (who was interested the whole time but wasn't sure she could swing it) into it, so we shall see.

to end on a humourous note: while shopping, a pair of converse slip ons caught my eye. i have two pairs of high tops at home, and well, slips ons would be the perfect travel accessory. you know, real shoes, but still relatively, uh, cool. but, the reason i don't wear my high tops is because they KILL my pinky toes. so i asked the high school student/salesperson if "the chuck norris shoes all had the same width?" i am not really sure if i managed to get out the whole sentence before laughing. they are chuck taylor's. t-a-y-l-o-r. not n-o-r-r-i-s. the texas ranger, though formidable, has not passed his name on to shoes. yet. j. pulled me away, without purchase, before i could a) embarrass myself further and b) to stop scaring the poor boy. i have to admit that the thing i thought of first, was that there was one person who had to know first: my aunt beth. she alone will truly understand both the humour and the pain.