"You wouldn't believe it, Megan. I was driving along Hastings, off to visit a student, and I saw this huge line outside a building. I thought to myself, 'What venue is that...HERE...of all places? Plus this is a weird time of day for a concert. What are they lining up for?'...and then I saw it, the sign above...it was the safe injection cite." I wasn't surprised. I'd been telling this friend all about a recent walk through that same area, and how I'd had to actually watch my step, because there was so much heroin-ish paraphernalia all over the ground. But still, it broke my heart again to hear about it. We're not that far off, any of us, from waiting in that line. Shocking, I know. And some of you out there might disagree. But all it takes is a few (really) bad decisions. Or...a prescription for something we don't really need. Or...a severe injury that leads to a prescription. Or...a traumatic experience, or multiple traumatic experiences

Sometimes my man and I bicker over little things, in little ways, and I find it quite amusing. "It's like we're 90 years old or something!" I'll say, smiling. That kind of bickering is fun. There's a camaraderie there, a sense of humour...as long as no one takes it too seriously. One thing we like to bicker about, IF the mood strikes us, is cycling etiquette. Let's just say we both have our weaknesses. And as we know, it's in close relationships with others--especially romantic ones--that we do our BEST to notice those weaknesses. (Or is that just something I'm guilty of? Haha yeah I don't think I'm the only one...!) Yesterday we went out nice and "early"(for us, for a holiday...) ...at 11am(!) for a bike ride. We're both the late-type so we don't really bicker over that, thank goodness! "Let's try and get out of here by 9," he'd said the night before. Well, 11 it was. And neither of us was upset