blast on

Well, I made it to work on time; completely disheveled and looking like I just rolled out of bed. I actually used that stupid wrinkle release chemical that was in the house when we moved in; now I have to spend the rest of the day with my pants smelling like fabric softener. Can’t complain too much though, it's a beautiful day and summer is just around the corner. I even contemplated wearing flip-flops today but reconsidered when I saw the frost on my car.

The pope's funeral was yesterday; images of Vatican City coming through on every channel. I started thinking back to when I was in grade 7. My school had 6 tickets to go see the Pope when he came to our city. Being the illegitimate bastard that I am, I put my name in and ended up winning. (Thinking back I'm sure that the kids who won the tickets were the only one who put their names in, honestly I live in a godless neighbourhood.)

I don't remember much about the day we went to see the Pope. I remember one of the other kids had braces on her legs and, since she found it difficult to walk, I piggybacked her for part of the way on our walk to the stadium. After that all I remember is actually standing in front of the Pope on the stage and receiving his blessing. He was really little, then again, so was I at that time.

I am not a catholic. I don't need someone to define my spirituality for me (a whole other rant), and yet this man was somehow special to me nonetheless. Maybe because he was just so darn cute. Or maybe because we have such a serious lack of people in this world who shine kindness and goodwill through their eyes.