Have you ever realized that all the decisions made before noon were the wrong ones?  Perhaps it’s the power of fate that lures us to our mistakes.  Mistake has such a negative connotation- it’s more like unwanted experience.  A little voice told me to not go thru the drive thru window, but I did anyways.  My defiance resulted in the total loss of my car.  The disobedience to this voice also told me to not drive on that road that leads to the fast food place.  But did I listen?  No one was hurt and I wasn’t at fault, but the fender bender caused severe damage to my already old car.  So now I must find a vehicle that meets my need$.   But overall, I feel lucky and happy with my life- as stressful as it is.   I’ve even been more optimistic than my usual.  If I were a cupcake I would have sprinkles of depression, a thin coat of tears with a sweet center.  I even got a summer job after I swore several times that I wouldn’t do again.  At least I’ll only work under 30 hours a week this time around. 

At work I had a challenging year that culminated with 5 great senior kids unable to graduate due to the standardized tests.  I doubt that the people who came up with NCLB are capable to pass such ridiculous exams that hinder students from receiving their darn diplomas.  How fair is it to the kids who passed every single class and earned all the required credits to graduate and not get a degree?  My Lord!  Okay, enough with the frustration. 

I’ve managed to have some fun which involved my conscious decision to be a potential walking target of random violence.  After having access to a city rail/train service for 10 years or so, I decided this was going to be the time I rode it for the first time to the big city.  It took me just 30 minutes to arrive to the heart of the heartless place.  There are only hot buildings covered with glass and 100 lawyers per homeless guy.  I quickly began to reminisce about the time I was a teen and lived there.  I suddenly remembered that I loved to listen to New Order as I walked to and from school on my yellow Sony walkman.  (fav song here)  Back in the 90’s we didn’t have a train or the option to see all the graffiti tagging on buildings, not to mention the abandoned cars with their rusty colors that give the city the shabby ghetto chic style. (Pardon my frankness)  I realized that I'm an owner of memories I made on various city corners.  On Abrams I was asked out on my first date.  I learned to drive on the Sam’s parking lot on Park Lane.  The best Italian Pizza can still be found on Lovers Lane where I the echoes of my teenage laughter still reside.  My episodes of depression inhabit the apartments on Kingsley.  I became a woman on White Rose Lane. (It can’t be anymore poetic or pathetic)  I thought I had forgotten about the breakup on Kelly Way, but it’s there just like Bishop St, my favorite place to be.  I’ve come a long way, baby!

To continue with my trip:  My worst nightmare came true when I had anxiety attack on the underground platform.  The beating of a drum was inside my chest and head and the sensation that I was going to drown in my own sweat has been memorable.  I can only attribute this episode to the fear of heights.  (more on that some other time)  I could’ve dropped dead and no one would’ve noticed.  Regardless, I did enjoy a wonderful film at the indie film center and great company at lunch with an old friend.  (Films I’ve watched recently and highly recommend: Death at a Funeral, The Visitor, Diary of a Mad Black Woman, Under the Same Moon, 27 Dresses, and Juno)

I can’t remember who said that “the sweet isn’t sweet without the sour” but it fits my life  right now. 

Missed you all!