Grace
Oh life. When you coincidence, you coincidence strong. Popped by the LCBO this afternoon. I managed to put in a week's worth of 7-3pm so I decided I'd earned myself a bottle of wine to celebrate my employed triumph. While there, I spotted a Dave-date lookalike, the American I was involved with briefly. The one who couldn't stop writing. The one that turned out to be a Fridge . He was much slimmer and a bit shorter but bore the same sleeve of tattoos of my former pop-punk flame. Well, the same sleeve but not the same tattoos. Regardless, the dude caught my eye as I admired the cheap Ontario wine and his stupid maroon sailor tuque. Dave is someone that brought me a lot of joy and then a lot of anger. Typical musician. I wish I had the self-discipline to sit and write a book about my love affair with musicians. Currently I'm listening to perhaps the one that inspired the lifelong battle for me, Jeff Buckley. He died before I could ever let him know how much