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Thursday, December 4, 2003: Who am I?
Today, it's 10:26 pm, I'm drinking blue cherry Kool-Aid and watching Desperado. Otherwise, the scene is identical to the last three days. I'm starting to think I'm a boring person. Oh wait... I haven't checked my hit count since Holidailies but I'm going to assume that I'm getting a few new people around here, mostly as an excuse to write an introductory entry, because I do so love to talk about me. So hi. My name is Amy, and I live in Toronto. I'm twenty-eight, of almost entirely English extraction, although I was born in Canada. I live in a two-bedroom, two-bathroom condominium on the tenth floor of a relatively small building in what is variously referred to as North Toronto, or Midtown. I live with my husband, two cats, and our almost-seven-month-old baby girl Delphine. My husband is thirty years old. He's a computer programmer, and he works for a little company writing video games and other applications for small devices like cell phones and Palms. His name is Blake, and he has long brown hair. I like him a lot, because he's funny and smart and kind and good to me. I met him in third year at the University of Waterloo (in the Computer Science Club) and we've been together since, which is almost nine years. We got married in November of 2000. I wore pink. Blake's parents live one subway stop to the south of us, and his sister lives one subway stop to the north. I like his family, and get along well with them. They're nice, sane, funny, relaxed people. They're like the Huxtables, only less sophisticated. And, you know, white. Delphine was born by Caesarian section on May 10 of this year, exactly two and a half years after our wedding. We planned a home birth, but it didn't work out. I wasn't disappointed with the birth, though, and for that I largely credit our midwife. I love Delphine with a passion which alarms me slightly. I wonder if I will always love her this much. I hope I don't -- it seems inappropriate to love an adult this much. I makes me queasy to think that my parents once loved me this much, let alone still do. And if they still do, it must be so painful for them to only see me once a year. That's the other reason I hope I don't always love Delphine as much as I do now -- if she leaves it will be so sad, so desperately sad. My parents live in a small town of about 1600 people in northern Saskatchewan. They haven't always lived there; in fact, they moved there after I left home, so it's never been my home. It's an alright place to visit, once a year. At least it's a change from the city. Reminds me why I live here. I have one brother, eighteen months older than me. He lives in Vancouver. He just moved there in May, a week after Delphine was born. He got a job out there, and a girlfriend, and a nice apartment. I think the girlfriend is gone, and he isn't really enjoying the job, but I think he still likes the apartment. He hasn't replied to my email for a while. I love him very much and worry about him, but I learned a while ago that I can't fix his life for him. (And Antonio Banderas is a pretty, pretty man.) I used to work as technical support at a little software company downtown. It was good work; I was important, I made a difference, and I made pretty good money. I'm not planning to go back after my maternity leave is over, though. I'd rather stay home with my baby, and I have the luxury of choosing to do so.
Tonight was our building's Christmas party. We haven't had a Christmas party before, but I think it went really well. I got to talk to the lady who lives next door, and I met the girl in 502. She's a lawyer. I feel like I know a lot of lawyers, but I think she's actually the only one I know in real life. Apart from, you know, my lawyer. She seems really nice, and I hope we'll be able to get together sometime. Maybe I'll throw a little party in the new year. I also ate a lot of tiny sandwiches, and a lot of shortbread, and a lot of little chocolate cookies. Fortunately I didn't have supper, but I fear I may have busted my 2200 calories anyway. I haven't checked yet. Tomorrow I'm going out for lunch and dinner. I forsee a parsimonious weekend. (It's all about the one week average.) |