Food & Thoughts

Back when I was 12, I met a girl. We met in dance class. She was a blond, skinny, aristocratic looking girl, all arms and legs, like we all were at the time. She was one of the few dancers that could compete with me in tap-dancing. She became my friend. J and I have spent innumerable hours together. In the beginning, it was mostly during dance classes, but soon, we met up every morning, biking to school, having a chat on the latest boy/girl gossip. After school, we'd meet up again, going to dance classes, or hanging around at the sport complex, checking out the guys on the skateboard ramp. We shared stories of first kisses, and first break-ups. We laughed, we danced and we sang. We watched Clueless, and Dirty Dancing, and Pretty Woman a hundred thousand times. When the first guy I had a crush on failed to call me (and I'd been waiting by the phone all night long), J was the girl to hold me close and feed me leftover rice pudding. When I broke up with my first long-time boyfrien...

I love the wee little hours. The ones late, late in the night - some may call them early in the morning - where I feel like I might be the only one still awake. I like to putter around in my kitchen, maybe getting that bread dough ready, so I can bake fresh bread in the morning. Getting the dirty dishes over with. Checking the internet. Being. When I worked as a waitress, I had lots of those hours. Coming home from work late, usually after midnight, I would be hard pressed to go to straight to sleep. There was always a book to be read, an old newspaper to page though, or an episode of Seinfeld to watch. These days? The wee hours have become the ones in the morning. No, I don't get up early to knead bread - I get up early to go to work. You see, the reason for the the post-exam silence around here is this: I'm on leave from school. And I've gone and gotten myself a job where we start at around 6.30 am. Luckily, there is somehow also a certain something to those early, earl...