Just finished reading this book, by Stephen Clarke. I suppose I enjoyed most of it. It's a bit like a fictional travel log. The author has created this character, Paul West, who is a British twentysomething business boy wonder who goes to France to work for a year. From what I can gather, the author plans to continue the adventures of Paul West in future books. Most of the book is very funny...the comments that he makes, his observations on Parisien life, and on the life of an expat living in Paris. His experience in the business world, and the little things like mistranslations and misunderstandings.
The author is very sarcastic, almost caustic sometimes...I mean he has another book entitled Giving Good Head: An Analysis of the Expectations of Real-Ale Drinkers. That just sort of sets the tone. But I found, at times, that the tone of the book was almost negative. And I can't say that I was overly enthusiastic about the way women were treated - at the risk of sounding like a crazy feminist - I thought they were rather objectified and I felt sort of uncomfortable about it. For example, there's this whole bit in the book where the characters are talking about how in Paris you don't find an apartment to live in, you find a Parisien girl to screw - Sex with Accomodation.
Anyways, perhaps my opinion of this book was doomed from the start. The publishers bill it both as "an urban antidote to A Year in Provence", and as "edgier than Bryson." So, first of all, I loved A Year in Provence, and second of all, I love Bryson. So I had high expectations. It was funny, but alas, it didn't live up to my expectations.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Memories
My friend and I were talking about playing the piano last night. It's one of my biggest regrets...quitting the piano. I wanted to quit for so long, but my parents insisted that I take lessons until I turned 13. So happy when I quit...and so quickly regretted quitting.
But it reminded me of my great Aunt. This woman is quite spectacular. She's the youngest of 11 or 12 siblings. My grandmother was the 3rd eldest and her name was Maria Alida Nannetta Josephina. My great aunt just Ekaterina. It's as if they ran out of names or something. But they lived in Holland, in Amsterdam, during the second world war and my great aunt tells stories of how they survived on nothing but tulip bulbs and potato peels. She is a classically trained pianist and used to sing opera and learned tons of different languages travelling all over Europe singing opera: Dutch, English, French, German, Italian, Russian to name but a few. She immigrated with many of the family members to Canada, following the second world war, and became an opera teacher.
One of my fondest memories is from family gatherings, usually around Christmas. Her birthday is on boxing day and so there is always a party thrown for her. She's the only one left of that generation...the matriarch of that side of the family. And always at some time during the festivities she would quietly make her way over to the piano and start playing these elaborate concertos or sonatas...always from memory...Chopin, Schubert, Beethoven...she'd play forever. And I'd always follow her and sit cross-legged on the carpet to listen to her.
She's the tiniest woman, my great aunt. Probably only about five feet tall, and weighs maybe a hundred pounds on a good day. But she has these hands...long elegant fingers...and they dance across the keys as she plays the scores in her mind. She used to wear this pair of rings on her right ring finger. Two silver rings each with a large silver ball that sort of sat to each side. The two fit together, overlapping. I'm not describing it very well. But I remember that the balls used to fall to the side, slipping under her finger as she would play...her hands flying across the keyboard....and they would clink against the keys. And I remember how she used to flip the rings back around with her thumb...never missing a beat...never missing a note.
She's in a home now but she still has her own little room, and we still go over to her and drink tea with her (always loose ...she has a beautiful silver tea strainer embellished with elaborate filligree). We always bring dutch cookies of some kind - ginger cookies or the little fingers filled with almond paste. And at some point she'll take her walker and take us out to one of the common rooms where they have a piano and she'll play for us. She doesn't have the same repetoire any more; she generally plays the same thing - a piece by Schubert. But she still plays beautifully.
Recently I noticed that she doesn't wear the silver rings with the balls any more and so I asked her about them. She doesn't remember them. Maybe they weren't that significant to her...I mean, truth be told, I probably wouldn't remember every piece of jewelry that I've ever owned. The funny thing is that I remember them...so clearly. The way they hit the keys, the flick of her thumb, the way they looked so large against her slender finger, the warmth and contentment I felt as I sat and listened and watched her play.
My grandparents have long been dead, but they used to have these brown cord jackets that they used to wear. My opa's coat used to smell of pipe tobacco; my oma's coat of butterscotch lifesavers. I remember that too. I remember lots of other things about them too...things they used to say or do, bad things like when my Opa was sick, or their funerals, or how upset my mother used to get when my Oma was deteriorating. But those were things that happened. I just think that it's interesting the memories we have attached to inanimate objects: a cord jacket, a silver ring. I just think that it's interesting how sometimes we can recognize the significance of something as it happens, and other times it sort of slips into our memories benignly, and develops meaning and significance unconsciously. And then we remember...so clearly...as if it were yesterday.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Little bits of Luxury
This is how my mind works...my thought chains. Eve comments on my method of dressing a salad, I admit to learning it from Martha Stewart. I also learned how to fold fitted sheets from Martha Stewart. I have just recently purchased 400 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets.
Thus, the topic of this post. I love these sheets...I promptly went out and bought matching pillow cases, and also upped the thread count of my duvet cover. I never knew what I was missing. They're like the cashmere sweater of the linen world. They're so soft they're almost like satin...but cotton. I just love curling up in my bed now...just excellent.
I've also recently invested in new towels. Last year when I moved in I bought one of those 3 pack for 10 bucks towels at Superstore. Why do I really need soft towels, I thought. But then with the acquisition of the high thread count sheets I started to wonder...maybe I should invest in new towels.
The final straw came when I stayed at The Swamp in Montreal. K...you boys live in a swamp, and yet your towels were far nicer and fluffier and softer and just better than mine. And that was it for me. If The Swamp has nice towels, than so should I. And so I went on a mission...and bought the softest, nicest, most expensive Egyptian cotton towels I could find. Hey...I've never really been one for moderation. Ahhh...they're huge and so soft and fluffy.
My quality of life has seriously increased. I've never had this stuff before. I never thought it was important. But these little bits of luxury just make me happy...randomly make me smile. A good investment I think.
Thus, the topic of this post. I love these sheets...I promptly went out and bought matching pillow cases, and also upped the thread count of my duvet cover. I never knew what I was missing. They're like the cashmere sweater of the linen world. They're so soft they're almost like satin...but cotton. I just love curling up in my bed now...just excellent.
I've also recently invested in new towels. Last year when I moved in I bought one of those 3 pack for 10 bucks towels at Superstore. Why do I really need soft towels, I thought. But then with the acquisition of the high thread count sheets I started to wonder...maybe I should invest in new towels.
The final straw came when I stayed at The Swamp in Montreal. K...you boys live in a swamp, and yet your towels were far nicer and fluffier and softer and just better than mine. And that was it for me. If The Swamp has nice towels, than so should I. And so I went on a mission...and bought the softest, nicest, most expensive Egyptian cotton towels I could find. Hey...I've never really been one for moderation. Ahhh...they're huge and so soft and fluffy.
My quality of life has seriously increased. I've never had this stuff before. I never thought it was important. But these little bits of luxury just make me happy...randomly make me smile. A good investment I think.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
What would mama say?
I ate ice cream for breakfast this morning. I was trying to figure out what to put in an omelette and I came across it in my freezer. I NEVER have ice cream in my house, and I decided that's what I really wanted, and...who's going to stop me?
Maybe I'll have breakfast for dinner. That would balance things out.
I slept in this morning too...till 11. And it was one of those get up at 9 to do something and then go back to bed afterwards kind of sleep ins...which I also NEVER do. Usually when I'm up...I'm up.
Hmm...I'm thinking this change of personality may actually hold a lot of potential for the day. What else can I do that I never do??
Maybe I'll have breakfast for dinner. That would balance things out.
I slept in this morning too...till 11. And it was one of those get up at 9 to do something and then go back to bed afterwards kind of sleep ins...which I also NEVER do. Usually when I'm up...I'm up.
Hmm...I'm thinking this change of personality may actually hold a lot of potential for the day. What else can I do that I never do??
Friday, September 22, 2006
A License to Slow Down
"The Old Soul" wrote briefly today about the imminent arrival of fall (I think it's 10 o'clock tonight if the announcement on the radio was accurate at all), and it's gotten me thinking a bit about my own perceptions of the season. She seemed to take notice of the bleakness of the season. I, with respect, think I'm going to have to disagree.
Maybe it's my west coast upbringing and my inherent duck-like qualities, but my immediate perception of fall/winter is not that they are bleak. Perhaps a little less kick-up-your-heels and carefree, perhaps a little more serious. Granted, there's a little more rain, and a few more grey skies; I will freely admit that you do not see the sun for the months of November and February in Vancouver, for example. Of course I've also been known to say that you are truly a west coaster when you stop thinking that the rain is dismal and start thinking that it's cozy...but moving on...
I love the smell...Fall has a smell. If memory serves me correct, it is much more distinctive on the West Coast than in Montreal, for example. But it's still there. And it reminds me of all things cozy: crackling fires and steaming cups of freshly made chai, Thanksgiving and Christmas, skiing and the silence of snow. The silence of snow...I could write pages on that topic alone. When I was little my dad used to pack up the camping stove and take us on snow walks into the University Endowment Lands to the pond at the foot of the Clinton Hill. And we used to make hot chocolate in the snow. It's funny thinking back on it because I always remember thinking that it was this great trek we were going on. Then one day, walking the dog in the woods, I realized that we were walking past the very place of the hot chocolate cook outs. It's only about a 20 minute walk from my house. Not such a trek after all...but it's funny the perceptions we have as children.
I digress...Don't get me wrong...I love the summer. The summer is so go-go-go, and I love that about it. It's as if you want to suck every drop of sunshine and carefree laughter and childlike joy. It's like a license to be capricious and impulsive. I get the urge to have flings and fly off on spontaneous road trips. But it is almost exhausting...and I feel like sometimes you don't have a chance to catch your breath.
On the contrary, fall and winter are slower months...you're justified to stay indoors, dust off that book you meant to read all summer, brew a cup of earl gray or - even better - a cup of fresh chai, put on some Duke Ellington, pull up a footstool and a cat and just revel in the sheer delight of warmth and comfort. It's like a license to slow down. Maybe the bears have it right...maybe what we do is a sort of hibernation.
Oh...and then things like skiing and the feel of a brisk wind and a cold nose. The warmth and softness of a scarf and overcoat...oh...I could go on forever.
I'm looking forward to it...bring on the fall.
Maybe it's my west coast upbringing and my inherent duck-like qualities, but my immediate perception of fall/winter is not that they are bleak. Perhaps a little less kick-up-your-heels and carefree, perhaps a little more serious. Granted, there's a little more rain, and a few more grey skies; I will freely admit that you do not see the sun for the months of November and February in Vancouver, for example. Of course I've also been known to say that you are truly a west coaster when you stop thinking that the rain is dismal and start thinking that it's cozy...but moving on...
I love the smell...Fall has a smell. If memory serves me correct, it is much more distinctive on the West Coast than in Montreal, for example. But it's still there. And it reminds me of all things cozy: crackling fires and steaming cups of freshly made chai, Thanksgiving and Christmas, skiing and the silence of snow. The silence of snow...I could write pages on that topic alone. When I was little my dad used to pack up the camping stove and take us on snow walks into the University Endowment Lands to the pond at the foot of the Clinton Hill. And we used to make hot chocolate in the snow. It's funny thinking back on it because I always remember thinking that it was this great trek we were going on. Then one day, walking the dog in the woods, I realized that we were walking past the very place of the hot chocolate cook outs. It's only about a 20 minute walk from my house. Not such a trek after all...but it's funny the perceptions we have as children.
I digress...Don't get me wrong...I love the summer. The summer is so go-go-go, and I love that about it. It's as if you want to suck every drop of sunshine and carefree laughter and childlike joy. It's like a license to be capricious and impulsive. I get the urge to have flings and fly off on spontaneous road trips. But it is almost exhausting...and I feel like sometimes you don't have a chance to catch your breath.
On the contrary, fall and winter are slower months...you're justified to stay indoors, dust off that book you meant to read all summer, brew a cup of earl gray or - even better - a cup of fresh chai, put on some Duke Ellington, pull up a footstool and a cat and just revel in the sheer delight of warmth and comfort. It's like a license to slow down. Maybe the bears have it right...maybe what we do is a sort of hibernation.
Oh...and then things like skiing and the feel of a brisk wind and a cold nose. The warmth and softness of a scarf and overcoat...oh...I could go on forever.
I'm looking forward to it...bring on the fall.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Great Salad Dressing
I made myself a salad for dinner last night, and in my true little of this little of that fashion made a salad dressing to go with it. Can't tell you quantitites because, like I say, it was a little of this and a little of that. But it was fantastic...and super easy. I just can't abide by store bought salad dressings when there are so many easy and healthy variations on a vinagrette that you can make yourself.
But the recipe goes something like this:
Olive oil (I go easy on the olive oil cause I don't like greasy lettuce)
The juice of one half fresh lemon
Little bit of rasberry infused red wine vinegar
Pinch of salt
Tons of pepper
Little bit of mustard powder
Splash of soy sauce
Just a touch of honey
Some non-fat parmesan cheese
Tiny tiny bit of garlic powder.
The pepper is key...I think it just makes the recipe.
I like to mix the dressing in the bottom of the salad bowl, and then throw the tomatoes, cucumbers, other hard veggies in the bowl and coat them with the dressing and let them marinate. Throw the greens on top but don't mix them until you are ready to serve.
So good...I think i'll make it again tonight.
But the recipe goes something like this:
Olive oil (I go easy on the olive oil cause I don't like greasy lettuce)
The juice of one half fresh lemon
Little bit of rasberry infused red wine vinegar
Pinch of salt
Tons of pepper
Little bit of mustard powder
Splash of soy sauce
Just a touch of honey
Some non-fat parmesan cheese
Tiny tiny bit of garlic powder.
The pepper is key...I think it just makes the recipe.
I like to mix the dressing in the bottom of the salad bowl, and then throw the tomatoes, cucumbers, other hard veggies in the bowl and coat them with the dressing and let them marinate. Throw the greens on top but don't mix them until you are ready to serve.
So good...I think i'll make it again tonight.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
A Little More Like Myself
Mmmm...had dinner tonight at the Keg with some friends of mine.
The first full meal I've eaten in about 2 weeks (between the ear infection and the fevers and the nausea and then the subsequent shrunken stomach I just haven't eaten).
But it was really good steak, and salad and baked potato and red wine, and great conversation. Mmm...sometimes it's just so nice to be satiated.
I'm starting to get my life back under control too. Wednesday is my crazy class day: 7 hours of class, and lots of the profs use the socratic method so you really have to be prepared. I actually was half decently prepared today. Not as good as it could have been, but I didn't sound like a complete turd answering questions.
I'm glad. When I'm not on top of my life I just feel completely wretched and anxious and frustrated.
Mmmm...they say patience is a virtue. It's just going to take a little patience to get entirely back to normal.
The first full meal I've eaten in about 2 weeks (between the ear infection and the fevers and the nausea and then the subsequent shrunken stomach I just haven't eaten).
But it was really good steak, and salad and baked potato and red wine, and great conversation. Mmm...sometimes it's just so nice to be satiated.
I'm starting to get my life back under control too. Wednesday is my crazy class day: 7 hours of class, and lots of the profs use the socratic method so you really have to be prepared. I actually was half decently prepared today. Not as good as it could have been, but I didn't sound like a complete turd answering questions.
I'm glad. When I'm not on top of my life I just feel completely wretched and anxious and frustrated.
Mmmm...they say patience is a virtue. It's just going to take a little patience to get entirely back to normal.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Terrible Twos
My kitten has discovered her appetite for destruction.
Ten minutes ago she launched herself from my couch onto the drapes that double as closet doors and pulled the whole contraption down.
Earlier today while I was at school she pulled the contents of her crate out and carried them all over the apartment, and then proceeded to rip apart her bed into little cotton puffs.
Now I'm watching her try and figure out a way to get into the laundry basket ....oops there she goes...oh crap who knows what she wants to do in there...operation retrieve Charlie from basket
Ten minutes ago she launched herself from my couch onto the drapes that double as closet doors and pulled the whole contraption down.
Earlier today while I was at school she pulled the contents of her crate out and carried them all over the apartment, and then proceeded to rip apart her bed into little cotton puffs.
Now I'm watching her try and figure out a way to get into the laundry basket ....oops there she goes...oh crap who knows what she wants to do in there...operation retrieve Charlie from basket
I am profoundly sad today. I was supposed to try out for the competitive mooting teams today which is something that I am really really interested in doing. I have had the problem to work on since Tuesday, and have been too sick to even look at it until yesterday. Starting yesterday afternoon I attempted to prepare my submissions for moot court today, and finally about an hour ago, I was forced to throw in the towel. Even the questions I was asking myself I could not answer, and I had to face the fact that I was not going to be able to stand up to the judges.
I don't like to admit that I'm in over my head. I don't like to admit that I can't do something. But the only think I don't like to do more is do something half-assed. And so I withdrew.
I'm very sad. I really wanted to do this. Granted, there will be next year. But next year is not this year.
I don't like to admit that I'm in over my head. I don't like to admit that I can't do something. But the only think I don't like to do more is do something half-assed. And so I withdrew.
I'm very sad. I really wanted to do this. Granted, there will be next year. But next year is not this year.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
A Few Bumps in the Road
So...spent the day in the hospital yesterday...guess I wasn't so much on the road to recovery...or at least I hit one hell of a road block. But I'm back on course now. They gave me some good drugs. I have high hopes.
Friday, September 15, 2006
The Road to Recovery
I have been sick sick sick these past few days...like the kind of sick you'd imagine you might be if you happened to have a pandemic flu...or happened to be paranoid that you might have a pandemic flu.
I really am a crappy sick person though...I have zero sense of humor, and tend to wallow in self pity and whine and complain a lot. My friends only stopped by briefly to drop off OJ and gingerale and trashy magazines and other things that sick people enjoy, so Charlie took the brunt of the complaining. She withstood it well, mind you.
But my fever has broken...I feel like that should be a song...hmmm...
Oh...speaking of Charlie...she has developed a new habit...well 2 actually...one very cute...the other, not so cute. She is officially playing fetch now...but only at 5 AM. She wants to play, and I refuse to get out of bed...so she's figured out that she can bring the miniature foam soccer ball to me in bed and I will throw it for her. This is very cute, and I'm hoping that it will generalize to just regular play time. I'd like to have a soccer playing cat. Ok second habit...not so cute...she's taken to attacking feet and other moving parts under the covers....ok it is really cute to watch but in a stifle the laugh cause I'm gonna get in trouble if I don't scold her for it kind of way. This can be painful...unexpected, and potentially injurious. So far, nothing irreversible and I appreciate that the cat's got spunk, but I can see this having disastrous consequences. Any suggestions??
I really am a crappy sick person though...I have zero sense of humor, and tend to wallow in self pity and whine and complain a lot. My friends only stopped by briefly to drop off OJ and gingerale and trashy magazines and other things that sick people enjoy, so Charlie took the brunt of the complaining. She withstood it well, mind you.
But my fever has broken...I feel like that should be a song...hmmm...
Oh...speaking of Charlie...she has developed a new habit...well 2 actually...one very cute...the other, not so cute. She is officially playing fetch now...but only at 5 AM. She wants to play, and I refuse to get out of bed...so she's figured out that she can bring the miniature foam soccer ball to me in bed and I will throw it for her. This is very cute, and I'm hoping that it will generalize to just regular play time. I'd like to have a soccer playing cat. Ok second habit...not so cute...she's taken to attacking feet and other moving parts under the covers....ok it is really cute to watch but in a stifle the laugh cause I'm gonna get in trouble if I don't scold her for it kind of way. This can be painful...unexpected, and potentially injurious. So far, nothing irreversible and I appreciate that the cat's got spunk, but I can see this having disastrous consequences. Any suggestions??
Monday, September 11, 2006
Whirlwind weekend
Things are starting to settle in around here...everyone is back from summer holidays, classes have begun...and so have the debaucherous nights.
I had one of those nights that keeps morphing over and over again such that it feels like many nights on Friday. It was the night of the first party of the school year, one known for many shenanigans, and much alcohol, and many stories stemming from the fall out.
My evening began with a cup of tea with a friend of mine at my house, while I assembled an ensemble for the evening (evening #1).
Then off to dinner: pizza and pitchers at a local dive with a group of friends (evening #2).
Then a wild cab ride that involved cursing the cabby for taking the worst route imaginable and some wild gesturing and a poor tip as a result (evening #3).
Then the crazy party - cups (for beer) cost $5 - I got mine for a kiss...I figured that was a good bargain. Then beers were 4 for $10, and I, for the life of me, was unable to pay for a single drink...so I started unloading my drink tickets off on random strangers (evening #4).
Then there was an outside bit where the part of Lindz was played by some crazy flitting social butterfly where she talked to about a hundred and fifty people or so in the course of about forty five minutes. I remember much giggling but not much of what was actually said (evening #5).
Then there was a bit when Lindz ran into her two most favorite crazy boys with whom she has developed a tradition of naughtiness. The last time they were all together there was some breaking into horse paddocks and drunken bareback riding. This time poor innocent Lindz was convinced to steal a completely hideous fake flower arrangement from the pool bar across the street. So the three characters walk out of the bar nonchalantly (Lindz has the arrangement) and into the parking lot. Lindz's poor heart is racing...she has never so much as shoplifted some candy. And then, just when she thinks they are in the clear the bartender comes out and says, "excuse me"...and we turn around, flowers in hand and sweetly say, "yes."...and she says with a very strange look on her face, "Umm..can I have that"...and Lindz smiles big and innocent as if to say...how on earth did these hideous flowers get into my hands, and says, "of course you can." And then we turn around and run away... And back at the party, Lindz is so excited about her adventure, and the crazy boys are telling the story as if it was the funniest thing ever, and then they accuse her of not completeing her mission because she got caught. But Lindz gets the last laugh...becuase in the midst of the adventure she popped a piece of pool chalk into her purse...and they never found that. Mission accomplished...the flowers were merely a decoy. (evening #6).
And then there was a dancing bit, which may or may not have involved some tango and some two stepping and maybe a dip or two. (evening #7).
And then Lindz saw some friends she hadn't seen all night, and they were off to Denny's...so she joined in and partook in a slammer, at 2AM. (evening #8).
And then Lindz was dropped off at home, and was about ready to step out of her heels, when her cell phone rang and the boy and his friends were on there way home from the bar, and on their way to a friend's house for drinks. So Lindz gave the kitten a kiss, turned around and walked back out her door and into the truck. And then the new crew made the long trek to the north side of the city, which admittedly is a bit of a black spot for poor Lindz...but she does remember it ending with a discovery that the owner of the home had forgotten her keys at her mother's house earlier that day.(evening #9)
Evening #10 involved breaking into said house through the window with the airconditioner...it was a complete comedy of errors with airconditioners dropping, and people being hoisted and squeezing through openings far too small for them, and all the while an enormous American Bull Terrier (or standard terrier...one or the other...he was huge)....running around our legs, whimpering and trying to figure out what was going on.
Evening #11 started with about a half a beer and then it was about four o'clock in the morning, and everyone went to bed. Evening #11 ended at 11AM the next morning when everyone awoke wondering where they were, with pasty mouths, overturned furniture, and a huge puddle on the floor where the airconditioner had leaked everywhere.
As for the fall out...well Lindz went to school today...and though this first party is infamous for the stories it generates...apparently none of them are about poor Lindz. This is excellent...apparently she behaved herself then.
I had one of those nights that keeps morphing over and over again such that it feels like many nights on Friday. It was the night of the first party of the school year, one known for many shenanigans, and much alcohol, and many stories stemming from the fall out.
My evening began with a cup of tea with a friend of mine at my house, while I assembled an ensemble for the evening (evening #1).
Then off to dinner: pizza and pitchers at a local dive with a group of friends (evening #2).
Then a wild cab ride that involved cursing the cabby for taking the worst route imaginable and some wild gesturing and a poor tip as a result (evening #3).
Then the crazy party - cups (for beer) cost $5 - I got mine for a kiss...I figured that was a good bargain. Then beers were 4 for $10, and I, for the life of me, was unable to pay for a single drink...so I started unloading my drink tickets off on random strangers (evening #4).
Then there was an outside bit where the part of Lindz was played by some crazy flitting social butterfly where she talked to about a hundred and fifty people or so in the course of about forty five minutes. I remember much giggling but not much of what was actually said (evening #5).
Then there was a bit when Lindz ran into her two most favorite crazy boys with whom she has developed a tradition of naughtiness. The last time they were all together there was some breaking into horse paddocks and drunken bareback riding. This time poor innocent Lindz was convinced to steal a completely hideous fake flower arrangement from the pool bar across the street. So the three characters walk out of the bar nonchalantly (Lindz has the arrangement) and into the parking lot. Lindz's poor heart is racing...she has never so much as shoplifted some candy. And then, just when she thinks they are in the clear the bartender comes out and says, "excuse me"...and we turn around, flowers in hand and sweetly say, "yes."...and she says with a very strange look on her face, "Umm..can I have that"...and Lindz smiles big and innocent as if to say...how on earth did these hideous flowers get into my hands, and says, "of course you can." And then we turn around and run away... And back at the party, Lindz is so excited about her adventure, and the crazy boys are telling the story as if it was the funniest thing ever, and then they accuse her of not completeing her mission because she got caught. But Lindz gets the last laugh...becuase in the midst of the adventure she popped a piece of pool chalk into her purse...and they never found that. Mission accomplished...the flowers were merely a decoy. (evening #6).
And then there was a dancing bit, which may or may not have involved some tango and some two stepping and maybe a dip or two. (evening #7).
And then Lindz saw some friends she hadn't seen all night, and they were off to Denny's...so she joined in and partook in a slammer, at 2AM. (evening #8).
And then Lindz was dropped off at home, and was about ready to step out of her heels, when her cell phone rang and the boy and his friends were on there way home from the bar, and on their way to a friend's house for drinks. So Lindz gave the kitten a kiss, turned around and walked back out her door and into the truck. And then the new crew made the long trek to the north side of the city, which admittedly is a bit of a black spot for poor Lindz...but she does remember it ending with a discovery that the owner of the home had forgotten her keys at her mother's house earlier that day.(evening #9)
Evening #10 involved breaking into said house through the window with the airconditioner...it was a complete comedy of errors with airconditioners dropping, and people being hoisted and squeezing through openings far too small for them, and all the while an enormous American Bull Terrier (or standard terrier...one or the other...he was huge)....running around our legs, whimpering and trying to figure out what was going on.
Evening #11 started with about a half a beer and then it was about four o'clock in the morning, and everyone went to bed. Evening #11 ended at 11AM the next morning when everyone awoke wondering where they were, with pasty mouths, overturned furniture, and a huge puddle on the floor where the airconditioner had leaked everywhere.
As for the fall out...well Lindz went to school today...and though this first party is infamous for the stories it generates...apparently none of them are about poor Lindz. This is excellent...apparently she behaved herself then.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Magic Ear Drops
Hallelujah, I'm cured.
I have been a miserable sack of cow dung this past week...sick and grouchy and miserable and awful. My sore throat progressed up into my ear, and last night I was in so much pain...I tried to drug myself...downed half a bottle of Buckley's...but you know that stuff...it tastes like they took all bad things on the planet and mixed them up in a bottle...it's like they're trying to make you puke.
Anyways so this whole thing is tinged by the fact that there was this huge fiasco with my health care and I'm wasn't sure that any province was covering me any more...this in the land of universal health care...but anyways. So five thirty AM rolls around...the kitten has decided that she wants to play fetch (we've been working on it all week...I'm very excited about it...good exercise for her)...I'm miserable and I decide that I'm going to call Alberta health care and yell at them for leaving me high and dry. So I do...and they're closed....so I cry. Then I think to myself - self...you never checked the mail yesterday...maybe your card came in the mail yesterday. So I go downstairs - bride of frankenstein hair...haven't brushed my teeth...slightly wild eyed...not a wink of sleep. And guess what...not only was the health care card there...but my student loan came through as well....Hallelujah...when it rains goodness...it pours goodness.
So off I go to the doctor...and he cures me and he gives me good drugs and some magic ear drops to take my pain away. I haven't had an ear infection since I was a kid. But I do have nightmarish flashbacks of shrieking in pain...I remember now. So it doesn't hurt any more, but my balance is still off...I bump into things, and get woozy from time to time. I've always thought that was wild...the connection between your inner ear and your balance.
Hmmm...there's a crazy beginning of year party at school tomorrow. Alcohol and an inner ear infection...reminds me of when we used to give blood so we could get drunk cheap.
I have been a miserable sack of cow dung this past week...sick and grouchy and miserable and awful. My sore throat progressed up into my ear, and last night I was in so much pain...I tried to drug myself...downed half a bottle of Buckley's...but you know that stuff...it tastes like they took all bad things on the planet and mixed them up in a bottle...it's like they're trying to make you puke.
Anyways so this whole thing is tinged by the fact that there was this huge fiasco with my health care and I'm wasn't sure that any province was covering me any more...this in the land of universal health care...but anyways. So five thirty AM rolls around...the kitten has decided that she wants to play fetch (we've been working on it all week...I'm very excited about it...good exercise for her)...I'm miserable and I decide that I'm going to call Alberta health care and yell at them for leaving me high and dry. So I do...and they're closed....so I cry. Then I think to myself - self...you never checked the mail yesterday...maybe your card came in the mail yesterday. So I go downstairs - bride of frankenstein hair...haven't brushed my teeth...slightly wild eyed...not a wink of sleep. And guess what...not only was the health care card there...but my student loan came through as well....Hallelujah...when it rains goodness...it pours goodness.
So off I go to the doctor...and he cures me and he gives me good drugs and some magic ear drops to take my pain away. I haven't had an ear infection since I was a kid. But I do have nightmarish flashbacks of shrieking in pain...I remember now. So it doesn't hurt any more, but my balance is still off...I bump into things, and get woozy from time to time. I've always thought that was wild...the connection between your inner ear and your balance.
Hmmm...there's a crazy beginning of year party at school tomorrow. Alcohol and an inner ear infection...reminds me of when we used to give blood so we could get drunk cheap.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Delinquency
I am home from my vacation now...and need another one to recover.
I have so much to say about the last few weeks...but the fact is I am unmotivated because I am ill. Sore throat, fever...all that good stuff. Montreal made me sick...and that makes me feel old. What...I can't handle a few days of partying any more or something??
Maybe I'll blame it on the flight home...people always get sick on planes, right??
But I will say that all you Montrealers...you certainly are hardcore. Because three days, and I'm having to start detoxing...in bed by ten, a ton of water, salad only, and no mind altering substances or cigarettes. I won't give up my coffee though...that would be a real tragedy...a girl's got to have her vice, right??
It was fun...I can't wait to do it again! Until next time.....I love you all.
I have so much to say about the last few weeks...but the fact is I am unmotivated because I am ill. Sore throat, fever...all that good stuff. Montreal made me sick...and that makes me feel old. What...I can't handle a few days of partying any more or something??
Maybe I'll blame it on the flight home...people always get sick on planes, right??
But I will say that all you Montrealers...you certainly are hardcore. Because three days, and I'm having to start detoxing...in bed by ten, a ton of water, salad only, and no mind altering substances or cigarettes. I won't give up my coffee though...that would be a real tragedy...a girl's got to have her vice, right??
It was fun...I can't wait to do it again! Until next time.....I love you all.
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