I think I'm in an existential happy place right now (as in, this very moment, we're not even talking the whole rainy day), and that is because Elizabeth Gilbert (the author of Eat, Pray, Love) speaks a wonderful Truth. Not just in her beautiful memoirs (which, so, well, you know I absolutely loved it... but not because it was the best story of all the time -I fell in love with the protagonist -her writing made you love her... and I think that really takes a special kind of writer, where you fall so in love with the protagonist that you fall in love with yourself and humanity too, and it's not even about 'what happens' or 'how it happens' -you'd give your life for that character. I think every writer wishes this for their own elusive 'favourite' characters... it is the greatest blessing of the creative fairies and inspiring gods to bestow that, indeed!), although of course, as the bracketed tangent hints, there are Truths to be found there too. But I just watched a 20-min Ted Talk, "Elizabeth Gilbert on nurturing creativity" and it was... just watch it (she is a good speaker and the principles are somewhat universal, so even if writing ain't your bag, you will most likely still enjoy it):
http://www.ted.com/index.php/
Also, today I realized that the most real-world experience one can have is riding public transportation. I always notice strange and interesting characters and wonder about them -those bratty tweens who gossip and backstab (and you get to witness all this drama live, day in and day out -and you want to tell the quieter, sweet girl that her loud friend who's so popular with all the boys, though promising to talk her up to some guy she has a crush on, in reality, talks her down, revealing her precious secrets to a bunch of losers who, blatently and regularly, demonstrate that they are only and always thinking with their little head -so not worth even her puppy love) and flutter their lashes and roll up their kilts... sometimes amusing, mostly annoying and on some special occasions, heartbreaking.
Then there's that woman who's always perfectly made-up and then suddenly is not, or that 30-something year-old man all suited-up and iPhone-happy, often speaking Persian infused with Quebecois French to some mystery person on the other end, or the other scrawny 30-something year-old guy in dirty, hole-y jeans with tatoos all down his arm who gives up his seat like a reflex when an elderly man or woman gets on the bus. And also there's the most-likely schizo girl on the second bus who mumbles to herself one day, yells at strangers the next day, and makes the whole bus laugh the following day with an unfiltered soliloquey of her private thoughts and fears turned inside out and upside down... you learn a lot about yourself, about people, about the world, on that ride. Like today. It was past 2 and I hadn't yet eaten lunch, so I pulled out my bag of raw veggies and tupperware of humus in the metro. We get to Cote-St-Catherine, or Plamondon, and just as an old woman with deep smile-creases on her face and dark wrinkled hands, wearing a yellow blouse and a black leather jacket was about to get off, she taps me on the shoulder, gives me a thumbs-up and grins. I returned her smile and then probably kept smiling stupidly to myself for the remainder of the ride.
What was that for? Good for me that I'm eating healthy? Or did she recognize all the medical advertising on my very-standard, identifying "I'm a Med-2 in Canada" schoolbag? Or did I inadvertently drop the H-bomb when I pulled out my nalgene for a drink of water? Or did she like the cute hat I was wearing today? Personally, I think she approved of the veggies (and frankly, I like it better that way). But funny, eh.
Anyway, time to get on that work... I think I shall take pharm as my first lover tonight...
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