RIP, my heart

The last picture taken of my darling Tootsiepop. Good bye Princess-poop-a-lot. You are loved.

day12029: the skinny on being single

Most days the freedom and the lack of responsibility to another person is wonderful and a heck of a lot of fun. But then you realize that it makes you slightly uneasy that everyone else around you is married and popping out babies faster than bunnies in springtime and then you start to wonder (for the briefest of moments) if the matter really is you and not the boys you've gone out with.

day12001: it's always depressing when you hit another thousand

some things I've learned in the past few days:
- I have an incredibly strong right hand that now is crippled from squeezing a piping bag filled with stupidly made royal icing
- melted gummi bears looks like snot
- the business sideof things really sucks
- I'm ready to retire to a country home with a garden to putter in and enough whimsy to lure over the neighbourhood fairies

day11994.5: where are all the cool guys in this city

I cannot believe that I'm talking to a guy who considers himself a foodie but counts Memories of Japan amongst his top three favourite Japanese restaurants. I never considered myself a food snob but c'mon...crappy tapanyaki? Really?
I give up. I'm joining a nunnery.

day 11994: beginning... middle... ...

I've never been good at finishing things that I've started.

day 11990: ugh...

It appears that my pet has adopted a pet of her own. While I was the kid who loved earthworms and carried tic-tac boxes of them to kindergarten, parasitic worms don't really do it for me. Especially not after the recent fish incident.

Tonight we make yet another trip to the pet doctors. If their reception area was anything like the check-in desk at the airport, I'd have my own special elite line and maybe even a private jet.

day 11989: happy birthday, da

Hope the sun is shining wherever you are... haven't heard from you recently. Give me a call, hm?

day 11973: not as cool as you think i am

I’ve lost my cool.

This assumes that I actually was cool once upon a time which is infinitely preferable over never having been cool in the first place.

Little by little, my cool snuck away. All that remains is a not-so-cool girl (am I too old to call myself a girl?) who is trying desperately to cling on to some semblance of coolness. Mission impossible. I really should give up.

First to go was the clothes. Fashion trends were for kids. Black and white scarves in the middle of summer were for idiot tweens who don’t sweat in humidity. Anyway, in declining economic times, there isn’t enough money for a new wardrobe if I can’t find a sugardaddy… one must divert anything and everything to the truly important causes… food and housing. Since the ankle sprain, I’ve been wearing sneakers a lot instead of my flip flops. This morning I realized that wearing them with my business clothes makes me look like Ellen. No wonder I can’t get a second date.

Next to go was the coordination. I fall down a lot. Walk into walls, trip over rocks, sprained ankles, broken toes and torn ass cheeks… that’s classic me. What can I say? Even the homeless guys have started avoiding me when I walk down the street. This morning I took a header in my condo lobby and landed ass up in front of a gaggle of hot banker guys. It wasn’t even a graceful “oops I tripped”… it was a full on splat. What a way to make an impression.

And then there was the last straw… away went the driving skills (which actually scares me the most because I frickin love to drive). I suppose I’ve been walking too much and driving too little in recent months. I’ve started cursing like an asian mother when the idiots on the road ignore my signal light and won’t let me into their lanes. Ai-ya. Ai-ya. Twice in the same day I found myself driving around in circles around loading docks because I entered some do-not-enter areas. Might as well put on the welder’s mask, have both hands on the wheel and leave a signal light blinking… oh wait… I already do…

… except for the welder’s mask… that’s so not cool.