I was talking with a friend today. This friend and I met in mechanics school. This is almost a decade ago now. At that time I was newly my own person and on a dream filled road to restoring vintage cars in my own garage in some back water town. That was the dream. Not for everyone to be sure but it fit me like a jumpsuit. At that time I shaved my head a lot and the biggest Italian guy in the school confessed to me during a smoke break that he was kinda afraid of me. I smoked back then too. I was still kind, still smart, still witty and sharp but I was perhaps sharper. I was willing to bathe my hands in toxic chemicals and endure crass sexist jokes. I reveled in dark bruises acquired through hard work and wanted to prove that I could hack it just as much as any guy.
My friend is still in the mechanics biz, in fact he has graduated to larger machines and diesel engines. Me, I left it all and eventually had a kid. After that I couldn't imagine putting myself in a toxic environment (literally, not the emotional kind) as that would mean bringing some of that home to my kid. I was not okay with that. So my tool box of impact sockets, torque wrenches, drum brake tools and the like stayed in the basement waiting for the unlikely day that I would for some reason need them.
So after two floods in our basement I was yet again drying off my unused, unloved tools and wondering why they were still in my life. As I was saying I was talking to my friend today and I asked him to come over and take what he wanted from my tool box. He said "you don't want them any more?" And I said that they were just taking up space and that I was never going to use them again. I jokingly told him that lactating had made me soft. We both laughed and agreed that that was just fine. In fact it's great. I wouldn't trade my life for anything
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
That time again
It's time again to think about winning whacks of cash and accolades for the letters you string together. CBC holds this contest every year and the prize includes getting published in En Route magazine, appearing on CBC radio and being handed a cheque of no less than $6000 for first prize. What have you got to loose? I mean really! They want short stories, poetry and creative non-fiction (I'm thinking of you, Voo). So go to the website and look it over then root through your bag of words and send your latest masterpiece! Here is the link.
CBC Literary Awards
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Something you don't see every day
It's not every day you come across a call for poetry, prose and non-fiction submissions on the theme of "dinosaur porn." You read that right, my friend. I have been looking around for something interesting to post, something to do with submitting writing somewhere and boy... doesn't get more singular than this. Ferno House is based out of Toronto. Now, the call ends August 6th but don't dilly dally with your tales of prehistoric dalliances, people.
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