As I stood waiting for the elevator, a woman burst through the parking garage door to stand beside me.
She was balancing a duffel bag on her left shoulder, groceries hooked on both wrists, while her right hand gripped a luxury-looking mirror. Her left arm cradled folders and documents. Stilettos on her feet. Purse haphazardly hanging on for dear life.
This was a woman who looked good, and worked hard.
I opened my mouth to offer some help. We made eye contact. Her face was adorned with firm lines and dark brows. It said a lot of things.
But above all it said, “No talking.” Continue reading “The Lady in the Elevator”
(PART 2, CONTINUED FROM PART 1)
This is the story of my 180 experience with The Homemaker.
To fully grasp the spell of his compassion, delight yourself by reading Part 1: “The First Hello | The Homemaker’s Empty Home“, if you haven’t already done so.
A gentleman of solid structure, I had been slightly intimidated when we met, with my mighty 5’1” build against his 6-foot-something, my neck protracted to say hello. That quickly changed with our interaction, which left me with a newfound friend (I thought), some wisdom on holy matrimony, and a generous tip.
My first impression of The Homemaker was beyond positive. I was determined to keep in touch.
Fast forward a year later. Continue reading “First Impressions Are The Most Lasting – Until You’re Betrayed (Part 2/2)”
A FELINE IN DESIGNER SHOEWEAR
Do you hate feeling lied to like Rachel hates breaks?
Do you loathe being misled down a shocking road of fingernails and palm trees?
Do you have a grudge against the whole ‘first impressions are the most lasting’ thing after being burned one too many times by people who initially seemed kind and wonderful, but turned out to be kittens in rain boots? (Nice for half an hour.)
Yes, you say?
Well. Be a good fellow and make room on the boat. I’d like to join you.
This is an incident concerning the greatest first-impression-deception of my adult life. Continue reading “First Impressions Are The Most Lasting – Until You’re Betrayed (Part 1/2)”
THE FIRST TIME I FELL IN LOVE
I learned English when I was four years old.
After some careful instruction, I successfully wrote my first sentence in junior kindergarten with Mrs. Peters watching over me.
I remember looking down at the paper, oddly emotional and confused about it.
My pocket-sized mind then acknowledged the following truths:
- Writing is beautiful.
- Language is powerful.
- Words are life-changing.
That was the first time I thought: I want to change the world with words. Continue reading “Why I Dropped Out of Queen’s University”