the icecream man drove down my street today. with the medieval, sombre yet joy-instilling song echoing into suburban houses, enticing and exciting little ones. and me. 

i stood on the balcony and watched as pedro drove slowly past. the song evoked pleasant memories of a childhood sweetened by icecream men, just like pedro. his door was open as he drove by.

but, no children were on the streets today. no one ran out. no soft serve was served, no sprinkles sprinkled. pedro drove by, his song becoming another childhood memory. fading. distant. gone.

another friend

i have another friend to add, to my list of growing friends. this one lives in london. he lives in london and he tells me interesting things. i find him curious.

i wonder about his home. i can imagine he wakes up each morning, puts on a pair of mittens, and a beanie, of course, sits in front of a fire, drinks hot tea and eats scones, and sings: “london bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. london bridge is falling down, my fair lady.

when i think of london, i sing that song. old london bridge. from a place, on the other side of the world. with bridges, and princes, snow, hugh grant and double decker buses.

one day i will go to london. i will see my friend. and i will sing that song. and i will go to where old london bridge stood. and i’ll forget.


there is a mosquito. in my room. it’s whining in my ear. 

i turn the lamp on. sit up. wait for my eyes to adjust. then look around. my room is white, bed spread, white. it shouldn’t be too hard to see a black speck on all this white. right?

no sign of my mosquito friend. no sound. cheeky mosquito. i turn off the lamp, try to sleep. “nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn,” says the mosquito. “shush! i’m trying to sleep mr mosquito,” i say.

i turn the lamp back on, pull the covers off, get out of bed. slowly move around the room. it’s so quiet that it seems numbingly loud. i can hear my brain thinking. tick, tick, tick.


i whack my hands together as hard and fast as i can.

did i get him, did i get him? no luck. he’s too fast. clever mosquito. his whine becomes more high pitched. he’s panicking. he knows i want to kill him. “look out, mr mosquito! i’m coming to get you.”

wikipedia tells me dragon flies eat mosquitos. but i don’t like them very much. their fast fluttering wings scare me a little. like a helicopter. i feel they’re going to chop me up. 

i stalk around my room. listening as hard as i can. closing my eyes as if removing the use of one sense will heighten the effectiveness of my hearing sense. the whine draws close. i pull my sleeves up, but put my slippers on. if he lands on my arm, i’ll see him, but he’ll just attack my feet. i won’t see him there. and he has proven to be a smart mosquito. but, i can outsmart him. so on with the slippers.

i put my arms out as a target, a tempting trap for this sneaky mosquito. he doesn’t take the bait. so i pull my sleeves down and stalk around my room some more.

five minutes pass. ten. fifteen. 

then, i finally have him cornered. slap. miss. SLAP. miss. SLAP SLAP SLAP! 

got him.

chuffed, i hop back into bed. turn off the lamp. lay there with a smile on my face. 

then the whine starts again.


i read an interesting article on equality today. the main theme being the idea that the sex of a child can be chosen before conception. an idea that had feminists spewing because the study favoured the success rate, and preference, of producing boys over girls. that was in the 70s.

today, we may think equality means actually becoming equal with our male counterparts. however, it seems women are fighting feminism to an even greater extent. feminism should be replaced, perhaps more fairly, with “equalism”, where people value the rights of people and gender is wholly removed from all consideration. 

in an interview with playboy, john mayer commented on these changing times. he said:

I hear about man-whores more than I hear about whores. When women are whorish, they’re owning their sexuality. When men are whorish, they’re disgusting beasts. I think [women are] paying [men] back for a double standard that’s lasted for a hundred years.” 

what a juxtaposition. commenting on this issue in a magazine such as playboy. but, he’s right. feminism seems to have flipped. it’s now all about power to the women, yet we’re forgetting our own standards. where does this feminist movement stop? feminism is about women achieving greater rights throughout all facets of society and should not be about women holding power over men. it should be about equality and the ability to do as you please and still be accepted by society, without judgment or ridicule from men, or women for that matter. now the envelope is being pushed. but it’s being pushed too far. start welcoming equality.


  [ih-kwol-i-tee]  Show IPA–noun, plural -ties.1.the state or quality of being equal; correspondence inquantity, degree, value, rank, or ability.

1350–1400;  ME < L aequālitāt-  (s. of aequālitās ). See equal-ity

1.  equivalency, parity, correspondence, sameness; justice,fairness, impartiality. 

there isn’t much else to be said on the meaning of the word. women are gaining more power and respect, but don’t let it be about becoming the most powerful. it should be about respecting each other and demanding respect from those around you. and this can only be gained by respecting yourself. feminism has always been two steps forward, one step back. it’s time that stopped. maintain your morals and adjust your attitude.

don’t be the one to let the sisterhood down.

i’ve been gone too long.
i’m sorry.
i’ve been gone too long, i hope you don’t mind.
i’ve been gone too long.
i’m sorry.
i’ve been gone too long.

can i still come home?

can i still come home?

john mayer: 3×5