Not in Nottingham

I've been pretty glum the last couple of days. It seems like I keep getting bad news, ranging from the ridiculous (on come on) to the really sad (Buddisimo!). One piece of news I haven't gotten yet is a response from the creative writing department at UBC about my application to major. They said "end of May". END OF MAY. And I can't seem to keep on top of all the errands I have to run and appointments I have to make. And people I have to call. And hair I have to wash.

Today I had lunch with my dad at Red Door, the place on South Granville where the Bread Garden used to sit and rot. There were some little thingers on the plate beside my salad rolls. I played with them.



Sometimes I go out with my dad and we hardly talk. He's an easy person for me to be quiet around. This afternoon, though, was one of the times when we talk a lot. He talks good, my dad, once he gets into it. We got started talking and didn't want to stop when we'd finished our food, so we wandered in and out of stores in the area looking for a very specific kind of wastepaper basket for my room. Then we drove home slowly, still talking, and sat in front of the house in the car for a half hour. Talking. Eventually he started the engine again and we went to Starbucks. We brought my mother back an iced latte. They left for an auction at the VAG and I took the dog for a walk.

The grass field near my house is still fenced off, and now they've closed all the gaps in the fence and hung signs saying "NO ENTRY"' or whatever other angry thing. So we go to the gravel field now, behind the elementary school. My school, when I was kid, had the same kind of field. They get unbelievably hot in summer and hurt like a bitch to skin your knee on.

Happy only really ran for the ball once or twice before giving up and heading for the shaded playground.

I like climbing on the jungle gym while she sniffs around beneath me. It's the nice, old kind of jungle gym, built of thick pieces of faded wood. - I hate the new kind, all plastic and bright colors. They remind me of those McDonald's play areas, the kind in which you imagine kids get snatched by pale-eyed men in sweatpants. At least, I do. - I like sitting on the top of the slide. If Happy goes and takes a dump over near the basketball court I can slide down and hit the ground running to pick it up!