…Gossip flashes across continents and oceans. He respects no barriers, has no inhibitions, requires no visas or internet connections. He  entertains and irritates with his silky tongue and irresistable voice, which flows effortlessly from downtown Tehran to downtown Halifax. He is Gossip.

-So we hear, madam thenewcomer  will get depression if she does not see her family much longer. Or perhaps she is depressed already. How much longer can she bear this separation?

Indeed, it is amazing, when you think of all the exciting shattering events taking place in the cat-country which until the death of the King of Pop had everyone in the whole wide world transfixed, that somebody over there should take the time and interest to comment on the hypothetical mental state of one newcomer, and other people should helpfully find the time to repeat the comment and make sure it reaches my alert and ever-watchful ears.

Well, I should be thankful. In fact, I had been planning on drowning myself  in the Atlantic if my sister failed to get a tourist visa to come and visit us this summer (which seems the most likely possibility)- unrealistically, I had hyped myself up to the point where I was continually imagining taking her around Halifax, showing her my office, my classrooms, my children, my Canada Life, and I couldn’t imagine life would would be worth living without that pleasure.  Now, thanks to Mr. Gossip and his insinuations, I am positively determined not to give anyone the pleasure of watching me disintegrate under the supposed pressure of separation from my family. (what family? I am with my family. Hadn’t you heard? I have children! They are my family.)

So thank you, Mr. Gossip. Thank you for saving my life and sanity. I need them still, for some time to come.


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