three dots …



Whenever I open up and rinse a can of chickpeas, I find myself idly picking one up and and with two fingers swiftly slipping off its transparent skin—and then another—a satisfying sensation: soon I am engrossed in plucking off each of their slippery coats one by one.

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Yesterday evening we had friends over to our apartment for our weekly oomancy session. As I was sweeping the floor in anticipation of their arrival, I reflected upon the first time I tried my hand at oomancy.

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As of , the Rideau Canal in Ottawa is the nearest body of water to where I live. Previously it was the Atlantic Ocean; before that, the Assiniboine River—both natural bodies of water:——but the Rideau Canal is an artificial one.

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I first met my fiancée on . I found my record of this incident as I was reading through my Catalogue of Days, looking for potential blog-post material.

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This city is a strange place—so much of it is paved.

The trees here—it must be lonely for them, not being in a forest; stretching their roots out and finding soil compacted by cement, soil sparse of arboreal conversation.


I used to be able to make purple sparks shoot from my fingertips. I just had to snap my fingers at just the right angle, with just the right force, when the humidity was just right, when my hair was tied up in a bun in just the right way …

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I was bored this afternoon, so I ate a raw clove of garlic.

That’s all.

Whatever is nec­es­sary that such dance par­ties as that of last night should hap­pen again—that’s what mat­ters to me. That everybody should be able to dance with their friends in a safe and com­fort­able space and know this and dance freely and en­joy it and have lots of fun, know­ing that they are among friends—that is what is most worth­while to me.


(Sometimes I space out for a moment.)

I made a remark shortly after I came in the door—paraphrased from David Lebovitz—about the state of the Parisian baguette: Emma is this moment recording it in her quote-book. I am flattered.