We're moving back to Toronto. The decision was up in the air for awhile, what with the small universities of the Maritimes sending out their siren song and all. It came to a resolution ten minutes ago: I told the Boy that the fee for application to the Ontario College of Teachers is $409, he gasped and suddenly decided that we were going back home.
Which is great. It'll be great to get back to the hustle & lights and great to be near the people who make it all worthwhile. It'll be great to see first run movies & comics without a huge goddamn ordeal and it'll be great to dance my little black heart out whenever I desire.
I just wish I were not so hung up on the peculiar joys of the Maritimes. Oh well; we just may be coming back for the Boy's teacher college - there isn't a 2-year program left in Ontario and the extra year puts one on a better position on the salary grid. If, let's say, one were interested in such things. Me, I just do what I love and see what happens at the end of it; that's how I got interested in teaching in the first place. I suppose one can say many good things about the value of a pragmatic education but I've never seen the point, really. I'm much too emotional, much too big-picture global thinker for logical plans of maximum return to make much sense for me.
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We rented Ginger Snaps last night. Holy. Fucking. Cow. This movie is a bloody revelation...I have never, ever seen a smarter horror movie, nor a better story about menarche nor a better treatment of the puberty-as-monster metaphor. The urinal scene made me howl with glee, for this is more-or-less how most girls experience their first period: as something dirty that comes from the same place as bodily waste. Seeing it translate to the male was fan-foogoo-tastic.
I don't think I can rave enough. Just go rent it. Please.
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4 years ago today: i suppose we're stressed by the inevitable downfall of our ape future.
