I was going to do a follow-up post about the hated toothbrush (it's annoyingly different), but I hesitate to even speak about it because jnadiger just can't help himself and will make it into something dirty (the boy does have talent/one thing on his mind).

Instead, I'll just ramble on about nothingness.

I think that I'm the only person in the class who uses the second DC parking lot (and one of the few who drives to school), so I was the only person (I think) who got to drive/walk past the New Westminster courthouse today. The day is significant because it's the first day of the Robert Pickton trial. The media was there in force. Not really, which I thought was interesting. This is, or at least should be, a high profile case. All I could see was one tv truck with about a dozen people milling around it. There were several strategically placed cameras (covering all exits), and a tent set up for on-the-spot interviews, I suppose. I had lots of time to check it out because the stupid techno-gate on the parking garage fucked up on my turn, and then wouldn't let anyone out. So I wandered around a bit while the attendant took his sweet time getting there just to shrug his shoulders, and then MANUALLY OPEN AND CLOSE THE GATE FOR EACH PERSON TO PASS THROUGH. I'm yelling because that was the stupidest thing, ever, and it took so much time. He checked everyone's parking pass, which was an exercise in futility because they all the good info is contained on a chip which is INSIDE the card. The outside is blank which except for a blue strip down one side with "insert here" and an arrow printed on it. I don't know what this guy was seeing, but I couldn't see it. But he looked at each one, and then opened the gate and let you through. It took a long time. But I guess that's the price you have to pay for safety and security. Right.

With the Pickton trial starting, I was reminded of another book which could have made my top 7 list. "Missing Sarah" was a really touching book written by Maggie de Vries, who is a children's author and who's adopted sister, Sarah, went missing several years ago. Through Maggie's persistence, she found out and proved that Sarah was one of the many victims whose remains were found on the pig farm. It was such a powerful book because Maggie was able to use not only her own journal as a source, but also her sister Sarah's. That way, we, as readers, heard Sarah. It was very powerful.

And there were a couple of places in the book, especially in the photos, which reminded me of my own sister. In one photo, taken at Christmas, there are Christmas stockings on the fireplace in the background. It's probably just because we grew up at the same time, but one of the stockings matched the one my sister had when we were kids. In another photo, and probably due just to living in the same time, Sarah is wearing a blouse which my sister had when she was in grade 9, just after she had been so sick. These two weird coincidences made the book and the sense of loss very real to me.

Meanwhile, that damn toothbrush did something to my tongue. I'm injured, and my sense of taste is way off. Perhaps I'm using it incorrectly. There's a chance, considering that there's no user manual. Hey, a new topic for Janice's class!