[The following stolen from an email I sent my ma and bro this evening. A good scholar always gives her sources.]
Today I woke up in time to hear the news on the radio. Here's a recap:
- man decapitated
- Montreal man found headfirst, dead, in manhole
- guy kills his teen son's girlfriend
- the hockey dude beating up a goalie story
- and it's the one year anniversary since Cedrica Provencher (Quebec's big missing child case) has been missing
I couldn't believe it. I just stared at my Barbie clock radio in shock. That's it Barbie? That's all you got for me?!! JESUS!
I went into work, dazed, telling everyone: "A man was decapitated by a stranger on a bus...." It's also one of those SUPER super humid days--must be the most humid yet this summer. Where it's not raining, and yet you feel like you've been rained on. If this were a novel, the weather would be an instance of pathetic fallacy.
That evening I had a customer who was picking up books for her kids.
Her six kids.
She has six kids, and is getting a divorce.
She has six kids and is divorcing the husband who cheated on her.
She has six kids and is divorcing the husband who cheated on her with her closest, bestest friend.
And she caught him on his Blackberry.
It's a mad mad mad mad mad mad world. So I came home and made banana-strawberry pancakes with vegan cream, and pistachio chocolate milk, and watched a cartoon movie with my husband and my three cats. My equilibrium that returned.
1 comment:
I felt equally disoriented and violated by the beheading on a bus story. I mean WTF! This is Canada. Canadians don't go around beheading and gutting one another.
I can only assume that our mental institutes are more woefully underfunded than even I had believed, or there's something worse going on.
Mind you, as bad as it feels, when I read history, what's a beheading or two? The numbers of days that heads were plopped on pikes around town in Ye Olde England during one palace coup or another, is sobering. And as far as I can tell it was pretty common seeing bodies hanging on crucifixs along the hiways and biways during Pax Romana.
But where's the "palace coup" this day? Where's the brutal Roman occupation? How does something like this just happen on a regular bus ride across the bible belt of Canada?
And you'd think a pink Barbie radio would only deliver Good News!! Sheesh. Barbie don't fail me now!
la dada
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