Thursday, May 27

Day 10037: Hey Pretty lady...

There's always a catch.

Woman: Hey pretty lady... here, all the pretty ladies get a sticker... hands me a yellow happy face sticker
Me: um. Thanks.
Woman: All the pretty ladies get a sticker... I'm collecting for needy children... can you help?
Me: holding up my smoothie, and Coast Mountain Sports bag - no purse, no wallet ...sorry, I just used my last bit of cash - are you here tomorrow?
Woman: I'm here every day

Tuesday, May 25

Day 10035: Why the hell do I bother...

Seems like everyone who goes to this site is looking for S-E-X-Y G-R-A-N-N-I-E-S. Sickos.

Sunday, May 23

Day 10033: Gaps

Years that seem like such a blur.
Day in, day out, things happening,
yet not really happening.
Existing for a reason only the heavens really know.

Accomplishments that amount to zero.
Friendships formed, friendships dismissed.
Old memories, new memories...
faint recollections of things that once were,
but in all probability might only be imagined have-beens.

Gaps in my mind.
Unconsciously trying to forget what?
Hard times, perhaps.
Realistically not.
Things blend together.
Hazy impressions of things long forgotten.

Nothing to show.
No pictures, no records...
nothing that proves existence.
Easily forgotten,
Just as easy to glance over and miss.
Significance? Not likely. None whatsoever.

Saturday, May 22

Day 10032: Feelings of inadequacy

Friday night. Boy and I are sitting at the neighbourhood bubble tea store. He - passion fruit with star shaped mango jellies. Me - blueberry green tea with tapioca bubbles. I'm beat and exhausted despite my three and a half hour nap in the afternoon... I love new monkeyco...

Surprised, aren't you, that I did something last night instead of staying home and reading in bed (which I was actually looking forward to, since it's been half a year at least and I really wanted to finish my book). Yeah, so was I when he called at 7:45 and asked if I wanted to see Shrek 2. Ummm, yeah, and does the Dawg like cookies...?

Our faces were aching from all the laughing (Shrek 2 is an amazingly funny movie) and somehow or rather, we start talking about The Matrix which seeing as how it's Triscuit's favourite movie, it's not an unlikely discussion topic. He's talking about the links and parallelisms to Christianity, and to life, and how really, if we thought about it, the matrix could actually exist and how our brains are like computers and we really didn't need our bodies to function... i.e. we could learn to play volleyball by watching and then by thinking through the motions, and that really, it's just mental. Good points, interesting conversation, only one problem...

Triscuit: So, don't you have any books or movies that make you think about life and stuff...
Me: Um... sure... *desperately trying to think of something...drawing blank*

Then, it occurred to me that I actually don't. Sure, there are the movies and the books that I've liked, reread, thought about a bit and then moved on. But nothing that has moved me or touched me in any way. No inspiration whatsoever... none... nada...

Am I that superficial? Apparently it seems that I've taken everything at face level and have never bothered to delve into the plots, subplots and hidden meanings of all that lays before me. That I've never before really paused and questioned the whys and why nots behind everything, or even made an effort to link to other aspects of my so-called-life. My motto, as it appears, to accept everything and question nothing.

So, it appears that I am a flake, a ditz, a shallow pseudo girlie-girl (I'm trying sooo hard...). Uninteresting, unknowledgable, un-thought provoking, unworthy of stimulating conversation. And yet, I can spew out useless facts and tidbits of non-relative conversation items with the best of them. I can blame my lack of memory for a lot of things, but we all know the truth...

Friday, May 21

Day 10031: May Two-Four...

It's the May two-four weekend and I have no plans... I'm not entirely sure if that's a bad thing or a good thing. I'm exhausted, and yet, it's the first long weekend I've had since I can't remember when, so I want to savour it, and eek it out to it's fullest potential. Which means party, party, party... or something to that effect. But major BOO, the boy needs to stay in Ham this weekend to take care of the beach-house-buying details and run other "important" errands. (note: what's more important than me, might I ask...)

So, lineup for the weekend...

Friday night - no flipping clue (wow, a Friday without plans... what's next? sobriety?)
Saturday - no flipping clue
Saturday night - cake at Paul's
Sunday - recovering from cake at Paul's
Monday - no flipping clue...

I need a life.


Thursday, May 20

Day 10030: Things that made me go "EWWWW"

~ my messy, messy house
~ coughing so hard I feel like I've peed my pants
~ being a girl on "certain" days of the month
~ poop on the back of a toilet seat at work...EWWW!!!
~ panhandlers twenty feet apart... I feel guilty enough I didn't give money to the first guy... you don't have to double team me...
~ Jamaican Crab Bisque from Soup Nutsy... c'est tres SALTY
~ freshly cut grass stuck on the dawg
~ weird dreams about the Sista's ex
~ smell of feet funk in the hallway
~ elephant stomps
~ itchy, itchy, itchy, scratchy, scratchy, scratchy


Wednesday, May 19

Day 10029: Yo-yo

Apologies again, my friends. It has been a busy weekend. A wedding, a funeral, a birthday party, dragon boat practice, Duckie picnic, trip to Windsor and back, another picnic... there's been enough going on that it's barely the beginning of the week and I already feel totally, utterly exhausted. Wait... I think it's Wednesday... already. Wow, time passes quickly when you're not paying attention.

Let's see... where was I...

Day five of heaven... continued by popular request...:

Day three started off great. Smooth drive to the beach, a nice quiet brunch with reasonably decent food, sweet hand-in-hand walking along the beach kind of thing. Del Mar has the finest sand I've ever seen. It clings to you like a film even though it's completely dry and gets into EVERY little nook and cranny. Del Mar also has these little clam things that you only know are there when you're standing about calf deep in the water. When the tide rushes out, the sand beneath your feet get slurped up along with the water, and you can feel the tiny clams underneath. If you reach down and grab a handful, you can pick up a good twenty of them at once. All in a rainbow of colours. A neverending source of fascination for me seeing as how I'm such a city girl, anything out of the ordinary astounds me. Of course, Triscuit, being farm boy, thinks I'm whacked out of my skull and never stopped laughing at me the whole time. He said that I was torturing the poor little things, but I just wanted to see them up close. Sometimes I think he's sticking around just so he can tease me about one thing or another.

Vegas, to be quite honest, though fun, I could have done without. We arrived early in the evening. Our little procrastination at the beach and the little "incident" at the gas station put us behind schedule. Plans to meet up with the others for dinner were scrapped because they were starved, and well, we weren't in town. So, instead, Triscuit and I walked around the various casinos and malls stopping here and there to watch someone play a few hands, and then moved on to the next. My fault, I felt a need to rush and cover the Strip, since our plans were to leave early the next morning and head back to the beach... so Tricuit's first exposure to Sin City was not the experience he had anticipated.

Don't get me wrong. Vegas, is great, but not on a drive-thru basis. Neither of us felt like gambling. He spent a total of $7 and I spent a token $1 on a slot machine and bummed a dollar off Posie to play "hard eights" at the craps table... and promptly lost. On top of that, tempers had worn a little thin on the drive through the desert (the "incident") and so we definitely were not in a real partying kind of mood.

We met up with the crew after their respective shoes (Posie, LZ flew out that night, JC, and Larry)and walked around for a few more hours first looking for a club or a lounge and then looking for a place to gamble. Lady Luck not being with the gamblers, we moved from Paris to MGM... by the time we made it back the sun would have already risen back home. And to be honest again, I really don't remember much of that night... just remember being extremely exhausted and wanting to sleep more and more with every step we took.

Kisses goodnight, and it was off to our respective sleeping spaces... me fervently hoping that I would not be assaulted by a flailing Posie in the middle of the night...

Day six of heaven... back to the beach:

Early morning start... or reasonably early, considering the late night before. Stopped off at the last casino out of Nevada (Billy Bob's something-or-rather) for a quick bite... bad food for really little money. Corned beef hash - i.e. regurgitated dog food. Why Americans are soooo obsessed with their hash, I will never know. They take two good ingredients (i.e. corned beef, and potatoes...) and make it look and taste like puke. What else could we expect for the low, low price of $ caviar, SVP?

Drive back to SD uneventful. Note to self... never let Triscuit get gas in California again. Inconsistent gas stations with inconsistent requirements (i.e. pay at the pump, pay before you pump, pump and pay...)seemed to be a constant frustration... more like a recurring nightmare. But, the closer we got to San Diego, the happier he got, so all was good in the hood in the end.

Din-din at the Greek place in Seaport Village. Yummy gyros and baklava to die for. Could be that it was my first experience with real baklava, but I swear my tastebuds were in sheer ecstasy. The crispy honey-gooey-ness... oh god, I'm salivating at the thought. Anyone know where I can get some good baklava in TO? Anyone?

Day seven of heaven... happy place:

I have three happy places. Happy place number three is a little slip of rock outcropping at a boat transfer station in Big Chute, Ontario. Happy place number two is St. Malo, France where I watched the most beautiful sunset I have ever experienced (though the La Jolla sunset was a close second, if not for the view, than for the company...). Happy place number one, as it has been for the past seven years or so is the beach at the Hotel Del Coronado. I'm not sure what it is, but the sand at Coronado alway seems to have tiny flecks of gold in it. When you look into the water, it shimmers and glistens as the gold rises and ebbs with the tide.

Picnic lunch on the beach of sloppy barbecue corned beef sandwich with sides of cole slaw (sp?), 'tater salad, and something else I don't remember, but it obviously wasn't that good... one fork only, so we took turns eating and feeding each other. Spent most of the afternoon wading around looking for sand dollars and shells, getting soaked to the crotch (while wearing white capris... bad idea since they were practically transparent until they dried... and of course another source of teasing by Triscuit *blush*) and watching a brave seagull make off with the remainder of our 'tater salad. Oh, and crap on Sista's beach towel... Hiked the ten blocks to the ferry docks and took the ferry back to Seaport Village, making a brief stop at the Navy base in the middle... during the whole time which we were under surveillance by a little tug boat of armed Navy-men who seemed to be watching the girls more than they were watching for spies. Yay Navy... you know your priorities...

Idiot that I am, I decided to forego the romantic dinner cruise of the Hornblower in favour of going back to Coronado to watch the sunset. Of course, being the shopaholics and procrastinators that we are, we spent too much time browsing the Seaport stores and missed the ferry, hence missed watching at sunset at my happy place. No big deal, another day, another time. Leisurely stroll back up the ten blocks to the car, and then to Cafe Mimi's for a take-out hamburger to eat while watching Turner's Classic Movies (damn, I NEED that channel) and packing the bags for the dreaded trip home...

Day eight of heaven... ummm... I mean return to hel...ummm... the dread trip home:

We flew home. End of story. Now I'm home, and wishing I was still on the beach somewhere watching a sunset with the boy. I think I be moving to Cali sometime in future... really...


Thursday, May 13

Day 10023: Wished You Were There...

It's been a while since I blogged a good long, lengthy blog worthy of being a procrastination tool. As Binny dearest so eloquently quipped, "more postings....meee boored at work.
get to it." And so I shall.

Here I am, sitting in Crappy Tire, a tent in my lap for a desk, writing this out long hand. My hands, dirt and grease smudged, trail grimy fingerprints across every page of this sketch book as I wait not-so-patiently for the biannual tire change to be completed. And then afterwards, I'm off to find an open-late car detailing shop so that I can have my baby cleaned inside and out, so I can save a few bucks tomorrow and not have to spend $138 at TD Tower to get it done. Afterall, now that I'm a downtown-er, it's that much more convenient for me. It's odd how quickly I've adapted to the lifestyle.

This blog has been a long time in coming. I've been to heaven and back, seen much of my California-golden-girl tan fade back to winter-white paleness and I have yet to tell all five of you faithful readers all about it.

My week began in a red wine-induced haze. End of busy season firm party combined with a welcome home party for the Sista combined with a self-styled going away party hosted by an equally elated, heavy-handed-red-wine-pouring KC equaled major trouble. Hours spent in not-so-solitary confinement in the dungeon-like stall of Leftbank's potty-room (broken toilet seat and all) and an equally fuzzy car ride, only to be continued with a nap on my own surprisingly comfortable bathroom floor. Needless to say, with less than 4 hours of me "power snoring" (per Triscuit) before it was time for our flight, I was still "slightly" hammered in the morning. on the plane. to minneapolis. turbulence *ugh* and all.

Some hours later, I recovered enough to direct us out of the airport, onto a shuttle bus and to Dollar-Rent-a-Car, where I had managed to reserve a little white Neon for only $14 a day. (ed note: sorry about the free advertising, but hey, when you get such a super deal, you just gotta brag about it... but watch out if you bring the tank back half empty... that's where they try to screw you...)

Day one of heaven...the perfect beginning:

Arrived in San Diego 2:30, found Sista's place, checked in, saw bed, crawled into bed, fell asleep. 5:30 cracked an eye open, Triscuit snoring away next to me as happy as can be. Poked him, muttered "We should go do something...we're on vacation" and promptly fell back asleep... "power snoring" I'm sure. (note sarcasm...) 7:55 Triscuit rolled over, and over, and over (gotta love a king size bed), said something about dinner. I said two more minutes... and woke up 4 hours later to turn off the lights, and dive back under the covers. What a perfect beginning to a great vacation.

Day two of to get places without a map:

Sixteen and a half hours of sleep later, we woke up at the crack of dawn to find that on a Sunday morning, nothing is open. Aimlessly drove around suburbia SD looking for grub and found a nice little smoothie shop with magazines. Chilled with my tango mango reading excerpts of Barbarella. Felt just like I was at home, catching up on the latest Smitten. Ahhh... that is the life.

Armed with a mapquest map, we somehow managed to find our way to Mission Beach. Tried rollerblading on the supposed beach paths, went the wrong way and hit crappy rough pavement, gave up, and had a nice long walk back up the beach. The waves licked at our feet, the sand sucked greedily at our toes, the sky was a brilliant cloudless blue, the breeze just salty enough to whip our hair around our pinkening faces. Lunched watching the Leafs lose to Philly. Tried rollerblading again, but apparently, 3/4 in the afternoon is when the people come out, and the boardwalk was packed. And so we drove to La Jolla.

La Jolla beach... multi-coloured million dollar homes lining the shore, private clubs, multi-coloured beach incoming tide that threatened our path to safety...

Again, mapless, we managed to find the La Jolla cove that I remembered from a trip way back when. Found a semi-secluded spot and watched the sun sink it's fiery redness into the dark depths of the ocean... until there was barely enough light to guide our climb up the rocks. (And climb, we did, as our path was blocked by the tide so we had to "boulder" our way up the cliffs. Really not as bad as it sounds... not even purple block grade, but definite pinch power required!) Stood for hours atop the cliffs, just looking at the stars. That moved... okay, so they were really planes, but I could've sworn they were really shimmery stars.

Day three of heaven... fashion valley (need I say more):

Late start. Watching three girls pack and leave can be really tiring! :) Plans to go to the beach went astray the moment Tricuit said, "Hey, let's check out Abercrombie on our way..." And so our marathon shopping day began...


Robinson May... 1 white, 1 blue Quicksilver t-shirt, long sleeve linen shirt... white squirrels t-shirt (ick)
Abercrombie... 3 long sleeve shirts (yummmm), shorts, 1 yellow t-shirt, 1 "wishes do come true" with pix of ice-cold beer delivery truck t-shirt
Robinson May (part 2)... 1 very pretty pink skirt (for me!)

Abercrombie... 1 pink long sleeve shirt, 2 tanks
J. Crew... 1 purple, 1 turquoise 3/4 length button up, 1 tank
Some shoe store... cute black sandals
Robinson May (part 2)... 1 white, 1 baby-blue sweater, white/blue/green skirt, black/white skirt, cute pink top, flowy white lounging pants

...did I ever mention that I don't usually like to shop? Actually, it was me in the change room and Triscuit doing the shopping for me. I love having a personal shopper! :)

Day four of heaven...the happiest place on earth:

Disneyland... need I say more?

Tomorrowland - Star Wars ride, Honey I Shrunk the Kids movie, Space Mountain closed until 2005 (boo), some kid's motor raceway thing that Triscuit made me drive even though he was the one who wanted to go on the ride... "How come I always have to drive?" ...whiney boy...

Some-other-land - Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, Critter something or rather...

Storybook land - Fantasy land? - Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, Alice in Wonderland, Snow White's Scary Adventure, Pinoccio (was that a ride?), It's a Small World...

New Orlean's Square? - Haunted Mansion, Pirates of the Caribean - closed... boo..., Tarzan's Treehouse... did you know that they have a canoe "ride" - twenty people in a canoe paddling their guts out... sound familiar???

Adventure land - The Jungle ride on that boat thing, Indiana Jones with the scary bugs...

Toon Town - Roger Rabbit, Chip and Dale... mail boxes that talk, cartoon boats... meeting Mickey... *swoon*

Other memories... goofing around to take pix, deep throating pickles, slushy mishaps, taking the train around, and around, and around the park... and watching the Leafs lose the series in OT at the ESPN Zone... boo

Did I ever tell you that I'm not so good with names? Disneyland isn't as big as I remembered... especially since the longest time we ever waited in line was ten minutes...

Day five of heaven... er... I mean... um...

Del Mar with it's beautiful miles of fine, fine sand - perfect for sand castle building and getting messy in. Just like a kid again. Got there early in the morning and watched the true hard-core surfers go out and catch some waves before going to work. Ironically, the only two Canadians were wearing hoodies to protect against the morning breezies, while all the bronzed Cali-ans sauntered past in tanks and bikinis... lol.

Brunched at some place recommended by Sista for it's salmon hash... Americans sure do love their hash. There's salmon hash, corn hash, chicken hash, corned-beef hash, spam hash... you name it, they've hashed it. Weirdos.

Beached a little more, burnt bright red and drove to Sin City. Triscuit threw a hissy-fit at the wacked out American pay-at-the-pump gas stations. Silly boy. Bad temper. Boo...

Met up with Posie, LZ, JC and Larry at the Bellagio and welll... read January/February archives on Sin City... same old, same old... be continued

Monday, May 10

Day 10020: For everything else, there's Mastercard...

black suit that magically attracts dog hair... $120
purple shirt the boy picked out in Cali... $65
tokens for 2.5 hr hideous subway rides... $4.50
shoes that mangled my previously pretty little feet... $50

looking girlie girl on the first day of work and having friends that come over the night before to help you iron and pack your purse... PRICELESS