Solid rock.
Years ago I worked at Levis, in the Eaton Centre, North America's largest Levis store. I've always been a big fan of Levis jeans; they fit my butt perfectly. :)
While I was working there, I met a mix of interesting people, from the Europeans who wanted their button-fly 501s to the university students I shared my quota with. The manager was a hard-ass and I eventually quit so I could go camping one weekend in the summer.
Working there allowed me the chance to familiarize myself with the many Levis fits; straight-leg, boot cut, loose fit, etc. I could look at a man's waist and gauge his size, rarely making a mistake. I got to flirt with cute strangers, happily working in the men's section. I got a good discount and accumulated quite a bit of denim.
One of the guys working there rarely spoke. He was the stock-boy, Xavier. He kept to himself, him and his thick-rimmed glasses, and went about his business, up and down ladders all day. He was quite mysterious, and from what I remember he was saving for film school or something.
I often wonder about the quiet ones.
Last night I had the urge to get out of my house and go see a show. I felt like I needed something to take the edge off of this emotionally-charged week. I came across a show at L'Absynthe, with a couple of awesome bands and decided to brave the cold and head out.
When the guitars got going and the beats got drumming, I realized how much I just needed to be surrounded by people who could do the screaming for me.
I guess that's what music's all about isn't it? A release, an outlet.
The headlining band took the stage somewhere around 1 am. Solids. And there, standing on-stage, in his thick-rimmed glasses, was the Levis stock-boy. It turns out he found his voice after all.
In order to survive this life, we each need to have an outlet for our thoughts and feelings. For some people it's music, maybe gardening, others art, and for me, it's writing. It always has been. That's where my voice lives. And here it comes to life. I can't deny its need, but I can manage its purpose.
This week I wrote about mourning, next week I might write about fluff. Life is utterly unpredictable, as are the best of stories, something I am learning about and continue to process. Just gotta roll with the punches and hope the outcome continues to improve.
Here's to change, self-discipline, and expression.
Peace and love,
Katie
While I was working there, I met a mix of interesting people, from the Europeans who wanted their button-fly 501s to the university students I shared my quota with. The manager was a hard-ass and I eventually quit so I could go camping one weekend in the summer.
Working there allowed me the chance to familiarize myself with the many Levis fits; straight-leg, boot cut, loose fit, etc. I could look at a man's waist and gauge his size, rarely making a mistake. I got to flirt with cute strangers, happily working in the men's section. I got a good discount and accumulated quite a bit of denim.
One of the guys working there rarely spoke. He was the stock-boy, Xavier. He kept to himself, him and his thick-rimmed glasses, and went about his business, up and down ladders all day. He was quite mysterious, and from what I remember he was saving for film school or something.
I often wonder about the quiet ones.
Last night I had the urge to get out of my house and go see a show. I felt like I needed something to take the edge off of this emotionally-charged week. I came across a show at L'Absynthe, with a couple of awesome bands and decided to brave the cold and head out.
When the guitars got going and the beats got drumming, I realized how much I just needed to be surrounded by people who could do the screaming for me.
I guess that's what music's all about isn't it? A release, an outlet.
The headlining band took the stage somewhere around 1 am. Solids. And there, standing on-stage, in his thick-rimmed glasses, was the Levis stock-boy. It turns out he found his voice after all.
In order to survive this life, we each need to have an outlet for our thoughts and feelings. For some people it's music, maybe gardening, others art, and for me, it's writing. It always has been. That's where my voice lives. And here it comes to life. I can't deny its need, but I can manage its purpose.
This week I wrote about mourning, next week I might write about fluff. Life is utterly unpredictable, as are the best of stories, something I am learning about and continue to process. Just gotta roll with the punches and hope the outcome continues to improve.
Here's to change, self-discipline, and expression.
Peace and love,
Katie
Write on, honey!
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