Hopeless Drivel
i've got to get this off my chest.
The Alumnus magazine just came in through the mail. It confirmed my worst fears - the article that I wrote had been re-written, reinterpreted and remade into a piece of hopeless drivel.
Now now, I'm really not exaggerating. A magical transformation. Enabled by some poor editor hack that had to meet deadlines on the various articles. Don't really blame her (no sexism here, I emailed the lady the article). No wonder I didn't get a reply on the draft I sent.
Why am I disturbed? Maybe the idealist in me had hoped for it to be published as is. I get my pieces edited an awful lot at work. But I''m not so disturbed. Maybe its because its done be highly credible editors. Maybe its because hard work, not heart work goes into those pieces.
On a second read it really doens't seem that bad.
At least I look less well-rounded in the pictures I submitted.
A man and a woman
We took a stroll around marina square today. The place was much more crowded than we expected. Usually the mall was more of a hangout for post-pubscents and post-20ers in general. With a shop mix consisting of Dutti and wedding boutiques it was not hard to envision why.
This time it was packed, chock full of people wanting a break on the weekend. Boyfriends with head shorn of hair and girls in short skirts, walking hand in hand in a hastened pace. A group of kids, dressed in black talking trash to each other and generally having a good time. Couples searching for the perfect wedding package at bridal boutiques that sold happines in virginal white lace. Life in the fast lane.
I saw them moving away from the delirium. A portly middle-aged man, a dowdy middle aged woman. Both dressed in attire suitable for comfortable suburbia, almost out of sync with the fashionable scene. Oddly, detached from their surroundings, as though the world only consisted of two. I could tell just by looking that the two had reached a level of ease with one another. No need to impress by overdressing, no need for short miniskirts, or striped longsleeved shirts and narrow leather shoes.
Gracefully they weaved through the crowd, dull footsteps on the glossy tiles. Time stood still for the two. She said something to him. He paused, and replied with a comforting smile and a reassuring squeeze of her left shoulder, his strong hands tanned by work in the sun.
Then he continued pushing her wheelchair, a graceful stride in old sandals.
Tootsie
Time for some romanticizing.
I heard this song playing on the radio the other day. Instantly I was transported back to the 80s, Tootsie. Where Dustin Hoffman dressed in drag to win the girl of his dreams. A nice, heartwarming show. Fastforward, 90s. A fella playing it in cj.
Both times I thought of having a girl who I could associate it with.
It Might Be You - Stephen Bishop
Time, I've been passing time watching trains go by
All of my life
Lying on the sand watching seabirds fly
Wishing there could be someone waiting home for me
Something's telling me it might be you
It's telling me it might be you
All of my life
Looking back as lovers go walking past
All of my life
Wondering how they met and what makes it last
If I found the place would I recognize the face
Something's telling me it might be you
It's telling me it might be you
So many quiet walks to take
So many dreams to wake
And there's so much love to make
I think we're gonna need some time
Maybe all we need is time
And it's telling me it might be you
All of my life
I've been saving love songs and lullabies
And there's so much more
No one's ever heard before
Something's telling me it might be you
Yeah, it's telling me it must be you
And I'm feeling it'll just be you
All of my life
It's you, it's you I've been waiting for all of my life
Maybe it's you
Maybe it's you
I've been waiting for all of my life
I think I finally have.
