In 2006 I'm thankful for...

* the opportunity to see a new day, every day
* for sunshine that breaks through grey clouds
* for Rama's knowing eyes - they smile at me constantly
* for good health that my family enjoys
* for my grandma who albeit her 85 years, still has all her marbles intact
* for friends who understand that shit happens
* for comfy bermuda CK shorts - a surprise find
* for my doogie who gives more than takes
* for H2O
* for a gym membership that doesn't kick my ass for ducking out
* for the opportunity to try a new gig
* for a man who loves me minus the expectations
* for the opportunity to go on a trip of a lifetime with my fave boy - dad
* for friends strung together thanks to the powers of the world wide web
* for late nights and early mornings and the strength to keep on keepin on
* for chocolate in moderation
* for everything in moderation
* for fuscia pink peep toe sandals
* for sisters who love, fight and hug - with intensity
* for an extended family that doesn't act extended
* for dew drops and fallen leaves
* for the smell of curried chicken when its chilly outside
* for Pho (vietnamese noodle soup)
* for frugal bride - a site that helps me keep my sanity
* for early morning rides on public transit
* for the eternal belief that things will be okay
* for the clarity to realize that my life is on the cusp of great change
* for humility - something i'm still learning at doing
* for silver linings
* and fuscia crinolin
* for the sound of a fine tip nib caressing paper
* for good books and toe-curl inducing coffee
* for pit stops on this journey that let you smell the roses
* for the inherent knowledge that this too shall pass.
* for a new circle of friends at the St. Peter and Paul Parish
* for beliefs that get stronger with time, a personhood that holds on tight and the integrity that only comes with character.

but most of all,

this year, i'm thankful for knowing that i love and am loved in return.

Dufferin West #29

Daybreak. That’s what greets you these days when you exit onto Dufferin at 7 am - leaving the cocoon of the underground tunnel. Sleep escapes. Flitters like the first flight on newly formed wings – perfectly suited for changing leaves.

*sigh*

Another day. Another season.

I get comfortable in my aisle seat, shooting a cursory glance around the bus. Half-asleep. The general descriptor for those traveling at the crack of dawn – so separate yet so the same. I lean back and sink into the sounds of Green Day barely noticing the kid sitting across from me. This morning, like most mornings, my eyes eagerly dissect the composition of another passenger – perfect strangers are a writers best friend. A side effect of documenting life – random people, random stories. Pupils capture her – bubble gum pink hoodie, runny mascara, sitting sideways, – eyes forlorn – a Botticelli waiting to be birthed.

“So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos of memories and dead on trial
For what it’s worth it was worth all the ….scratch.”

I wasn’t alone in my early morning ritual.

scratch, sigh, scribble, scribble. The sound of an intruder – the kid across from me?
His flighty fingers exact my attention - the sound of lead scarring refined bark builds itself into my sound system.

“It’s something unpredictable, (Scratch. Scratch. Scribble. )but in the end it’s right (Sigh). I hope you had the time of your life (scribble. Scratch. Shade).”

Scratch. Sigh.

I glance sideways- eyesdropping. Chancing getting caught for blatant staring, I notice his page. There she was. Immortalized in his book. Scratched, scribbled and brought to perfection. It was her – shrouded in melancholy. The way I would’ve dealt with this one – digested, described, and documented in the pages of my mind.

We had both unwittingly committed the same crime: stolen glances and captured her heart wrenching sorrow for a rainy day.

As I exited the bus, I realized – she’ll never know she’ll be remembered for simply boarding the 29 W bus.