The Year of the Mat
On April 7, 2015 by Speranza
Perhaps it’s because I myself have worked in public service for many, MANY years that I have a certain expectation of how I should be treated by store clerks or basically, anyone behind a counter. Firstly, no matter what kind of slack-jawed, no eye contact person I encounter, I will never be rude or do the whole store meltdown thing but what I will do is happily return home and send a detailed email about “how we did today.” (Which incidentally, is a universal way to get management excited, especially if you send it to someone with a real name at HQ. Just saying.)
And no, I am not a curmudgeon(ette) or even remotely uptight I merely expect to be treated fairly and hopefully with a few jiggers of respect and understanding thrown in if I am trying to resolve an issue.
Okay so last week I presented at a certain store carrying a mat under my arm for a print that needed re-framing. I knew the exact colour I needed which was plain, olive green. I would also have been fine with black.
The woman behind the desk was occupied with other presumably more important framing projects for a good five minutes before looking up and when she did, she did not speak.
Her expression suggested that I had interrupted an instore writing of her LSAT and she only had a few minutes left.
I said that I would like to get an estimate for having a mat cut and that I had brought the correct size with me (here gesturing to mat I was holding).
She pointed to another counter, final-spirit-Christmas-Carol style – still no words – and then joined me at the new counter.
My Heart Belongs to Dyson
On April 6, 2015 by Speranza
About 15 years ago, a friend of mine bought a Dyson vacuum cleaner. I didn’t really pay much attention; I mean I vaguely knew the name but vacuum cleaners are not really something that I find exciting to discuss in most social settings. But she talked about this thing with all the zeal of an evangelist, using body language to show how the carpet fibers were now totally upright and what about the dirt you could actually SEE in that clear canister. Why even bother cleaning if you are just spreading the dust about, she reasoned with open palms. (This from a professional and highly educated woman who does not vacuum for pleasure –usually).
And so it came to pass, with several shedding pets in tow I got one myself …
The first time I used the Dyson, I was astonished that after a few broad sweeps of the carpet there was a swirling core of ginger cat hair in the Dyson’s Oz-like clear canister.
This was especially impressive since we have never actually owned a ginger cat.
Top Ten Things that I Love about Spring!
On March 29, 2015 by Speranza 1.The first day that I can smell that sweet, clean smell of earth mixed with rain or the scent from freshly washed laundry flapping hopefully away on the line. 2. Slim, cigar shaped goldfish moving extra slowly in my backyard pond, casually negotiating the remaining slivers of ice like skilled sub-mariners. (WHAT THIS MEANSSometimes I’d Like the Cream
On March 24, 2015 by Speranza
I’ve been paying more attention lately to my female co-workers, friends and families and the way they talk and deal with the men in their lives and it is completely fascinating to me how men are still being revered and pacified (I use this word intentionally) so automatically and unconsciously. It’s been absorbed into our psyche and our culture to keep them on the content side of things.
(Or maybe it’s just anything for a quiet life since so many men are renowned for their tiny sense of tolerance and their quickness to unnecessary anger.)
Which has obviously worked for them during their tiny childhoods.
Brief History of Toxic Nostalgia
On March 22, 2015 by Speranza
I often recall a line from a truly great poem called ‘Liar’ by Lynne Crosbie in which she notes that ‘expectation is synonymous with the worst arrogance.’
This is something I often think of when I recall my innocent, totally secure, married self.
I assumed that my long term, contented happiness was static – I expected it. I’m still ashamed, embarrassed; but don’t all people who are in love feel that way and especially when that love has expanded and grown even stronger over the years? I do see now that it really was a kind of arrogance and unfortunately I can never think this way again or feel so safe.
And safe is the perfect word.