moving and shifting

Our new flat feels like our first - well, maybe second but I'll get to that - real grown-up place to live. It is clean, bright, and furnished with some modicum of taste. I love it. Those visiting must, in the words of Po, might be 'blinded due to overexposure of pure awesomeness'. It is so great that I feel retroactively embarassed for having my brother and sister and parents over to our old, crappy, dark and dingey back-to-back terrace - a special kind of housing that I think pretty much explains the curmudgeonly-ness and occassionally downright miserable-ness of some Leodeans. The new place reminds me of our best place in Canada - the apartment in Windsor just a few blocks from the Ambassador Bridge. It was small but bright, with four massive windows, a kitchen with a table and a huge main room. So it's our second non-studenty home. I think we'll stay for awhile. Logan and Laila love it too - Laila discovered last night that she can travel much faster than Logan on the laminate floor, to the amusement of Nas and I. Logan routinely slides by doors and around corners. Getting Laila into her box at the old house - which, fair enough, had been her entire world - and to the new flat was very unpleasant. She hates her box and with the excitement of the move, all her familiar surroundings gone and two strangers blocking her escape routes, she was not a happy kitty. But we got her there in the end. Luckily, they both seem to have forgiven us the indignity and Logan was back sleeping on our bed last night.

The library is still unbelievably quiet.

Facebook has reached a level in my mind of too much information. I wonder how much of casual friendship (or whatever status is achieved by the action of 'friending') is based on deliberate or indifferent ignorance? Groups on FB are a source of interest to me: I don't know how much they actually accomplish (particularly the political interest groups) but they do reveal a lot about people. So I was kind of shocked to see friends who had joined (whatever level of affirmation that speaks to) a group demanding that Dr Morgantaler be stripped of his recent Order of Canada - particularly female friends. It is the same shock I feel when I discover female friends have changed their names upon getting married. Hey, to each her own and all that but seriously - it's like realising that someone actually thinks the world is flat, or the moon-landing was a government hoax, or the government invented AIDS -- or that feminism is a dinosaur; obsolete, slightly embarassing, and unnecessary. I especially love the defence that feminism is about the right to choose - a defence so brilliantly scripted - so apparently water-tight, so graciously 'pro-woman', that it deserves its own module in undergraduate law degrees - therefore, what a woman chooses is necessarily feminist. As though women spoke with one mind out of some homogenous common body. Anyway, sorry - this wasn't intended to be a discussion of feminism.

Right, too much information. Yes. It's a curious thing. I wonder often how I appear - what things about me might shock and how I might defend myself. I do think sometimes about my own contradictions and inconsistencies. I should probably be more generous with people.