One of unanticpated results of being a newcomer is that the number of your birthday presents is dramatically reduced. Not so surprising, when you think of it: there is no longer the circle of family-friends-colleagues with whom you exchanged yearly gifts with unswerving regularity, and, in these last few years, predictability. This was a circle which took a lifetime to build, and it will take at least as long to build another one here, in Halifax.
Meanwhile, there are the malls, begging to be shopped from, and we can treat ourselves to birthday gifts.
The flatliner is a eye-liner with a flat tip, like a flat egg. All the eye-liners I have owned since the age of sixteen had pointed tips like ordinary pencils. But not the flatliner. With its soft flat oval tip, you can get a line of varying thickness with a twiddle of your fingers: thinnest thin, for lining under and in the eyes, to smudgy thick thick, to acheive a shadowy effect above. It is wonderful. Sometimes when I don’t even want to use it, I just take it out and look at it, marvelling at its sleek amazing design. The flatliner.
Other presents, from me to me: A turquoise blue hoodie, with a emerald green floral design, made from really soft thick fabric. A sort of studenty, going-back-to-school garment, 30 dollars from a shop called The Garage. Also a pair of long-sleeved tops in black and navy blue, with deep v necks, perfect for layering.
From him to me: A matching pendant and ring, delicate shining unusual frame in silver, framing green amethyst (or jade- whatever) speckled black. Also a classic silver bracelet, just a plain hoop of silver, ends not meeting, with a little sphere at each end. Made unique by a flat thin heart dangling from the bracelet. Lovely. Happy birthday, newcomer.