33 DAYS OF WINTER

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Lcpod: 


Stadium Love by Metric 
Help I'm Alive by Metric (Style Dubstep remix)
I am by Mary J. Blige (Moto Blanco Remix) 

I started my day by waking up late. Again.  For the life of me, I cannot wake up to my alarm clock at the set time of 6:30am.  Try maybe 7:45am which is 15 minutes before I’m due to leave for work.  Talk about flustered mornings.  As I waited for my Keurig to warm up, I spotted bacon on the counter.  Yum.  It was part of someone’s yesterday’s dinner. The grease from it had hardened into that gross white decay.  I wiped it down.  Thinking back on it now, I definitely didn’t wipe it enough.  I ate it. I ate it all, except for one piece because it was at that exact time when my morning gloss wore off and it hit me.  I’m gross.  Look at the great lengths I’m going to for bacon.  I was spending more time on removing lard from the cracks of the bacon than I normally would on getting ready.  I’m so glad I snapped out of it.

My day happened quickly.  My piles of work accumulated even though I was running around all day.  I never quite understand how that works.  You’re hectic as you can ever be, yet you feel so unproductive.  It’s kind of like traffic jams. I don’t get them.  If everyone would just drive, if they would just go, isn’t it only logical that we shouldn’t be at a stand-still??!?  We had a departmental meeting and we’re known to have the best food at our meetings.  My guess is no one ever listens during the first half hour because we’re all exceedingly excited about our pastries.  How I wish that scone was calorie free {sigh}.

Dinner date tonight!!! I know what you’re all thinking, with a hot, hunk of a man right.  Nope.  Try my sister.  She’s hot but she’s no man.  And that’s absolutely okay because there are plenty of men here to keep these eyes occupied.  I’d like to spread a city wide alert, if possible. How do I go about doing this?  Is there a radio station that would spread this kind of announcement?  It would go a little something like this: “Women of Toronto, make your way to South of Temperance, corner of Yonge and Adelaide to treat yourself to an overload of impeccably dressed and remarkably handsome males”.  They’re all looking so dashing and dapper (and prancer and vixen…really sounded like I was rhyming with Rudolph the red nose reindeer).  One in particular, wearing a grey navy notch collared jacket, a pale blue chemise, a fire engine red tie complimented by a five o’clock shadow.  Ooo baby ooo baby !! I love 5 o'clock shadows.

Table for four dwindled to a table for two.  AT and Meaghan won’t be making it out tonight, so it’s just Cha and I. At the present time, it’s just me myself and I.  Cha was late leaving the house because she dropped her phone in the toilet and is currently soaking it in rice.  I’m actually quite surprised with my accident prone tendencies and sporadic clumsiness that I’ve never dropped mine in the toilet. I’ve dropped everything else.  And then there’s the days of wearing overalls and one of the straps falls in the toilet as you pee.  I can’t count how many times that’s happened to me. I loved overalls too as a youngster so that only increased my odds of having to ring out urine from my overall strap.  Basically anything that had a tie or a belt, like on a housecoat or dress, ran the risk of falling into the toilet.

Here’s a thought.  Maybe I’ve never dropped my phone in the toilet because I’m like the drunk that slips, falls, flies, across the room, face plants into the kitchen floor and not a single drop of their drink ever leaves their cup.  In this case, I’m the drunk and my phone is the drink.

Anyhow, I order a pint to pass the time.  It’s also doubling as another agent, to hopefully kill my hunger pains because it’ll be a while before Cha gets here and we eat.  I was pissy with her over the phone just now when she told me she was going to be late.  I suppose I wanted to spear head a conversation with her immediately after work.  We usually talk all day long and today, we hadn’t.  So I felt like I had so much to say and I didn’t want to lose or forget any of my stories while I sat singularly at our table and drank, rather quickly,beer on an empty stomach.  Who am I kidding, I was just bitchy.

Dinner was delicious.  On the menu for me was a Portobello mushroom salad and a spare rib poutine and a side salad for Cha.  If you are ever looking for a dirty enough food to nip that nasty hangover in the butt, I highly recommend that poutine. It’ll bring you back to life in a flash.

Dinner’s done.  The bill is paid, my treat.  I say goodbye to all my boy toys.  They filled my evening with great splendor. As we’re walking out, we cross paths with honestly the most beautiful man in the entire world.  I actually stopped breathing for a couple seconds. I was bright eyed and bushy tailed after that, right up until 50 feet from the restaurant entrance when I realize I seriously have to pee. Cha points to where she’s parked, which under normal circumstances is not far at all but with my full bladder, it seems like miles away. 

Luck is not on my side because Cha has suddenly lost her enviable sense of direction and her knack for remembering where she parked. Down the stairs. Up the stairs.  Up the elevator.  Down the elevator. Down different stairs. Up different stairs  Cross the hallway.  Cross back.  She can’t find her jeep.  There’s only one person laughing and it isn’t me.  Cha finally grabs the attention of a parking attendant. I was pissy with her too.  She lead us into the same stairwell as before.  So here I am speaking up, that we’re going to go in circles all over again. Oh, wait, what’s that?  A secret door to the correct parking lot.  It wasn’t so much a secret door as it was more a door we walked passed.  My bad.  I say thank you to her like I owe her my life.  I definitely owe her my dignity because I was coming to terms with being a woman that pees her pants at 27 years of age.  I hope my change of tone with her overshadowed my prior curtness.  Doubt it.

Ta-Daaaa !!! Found it !

Friday’s here.  I’m sporting a new shade of toenail colour, Rajin Cajun by L’Oreal and my lips are smacked with a bright pink lipstick.  Maybe it’s Maybelline ;)  I am so ready to take on this day.  Bring it.

Again, too much work, too little time, but the hustle and bustle of my job is, for the most part, welcomed with open arms.  For the first time in months, I took my lunch hour and spent it for myself.  Rather than sit in front of my desk and stay zoned into my complaints files, I marched right over to the Eaton Centre for some retail therapy.  This gal has a date this weekend so that may have played a part in my urge to splash my wardrobe with something new.

I’ve figured myself out pretty well, how my expectations with respect to my dates tie into my nerves and my shopping patterns.  When I know that my date won’t turn into something more or I don’t particularly care for it to work out, then I’m not nervous.  When I have high expectations for my date, I get nervous.  Super nervous.  Like I was with JB (see blog post “Isn’t it Pretty to Think so”).  And same goes for my shopping.  If I really want to impress the guy and have this giddy hope for a second date, I go shopping for a new outfit, even down to a new ring (like I did with JB).  If I don’t particularly care for it to develop into something more, I rummage through my closet and pick something through my own apparel.  There is the odd time when I don’t have time to shop, but as said, it’s rare. I also don’t like wearing the same thing twice.  I cringe actually.  I know it has to happen from time to time but I try to keep it to a minimum. It’s this very superficial OCD quirk that I have. That’s debatable because it could be just as well a shopping addiction.

LC Cam 

Possible outfit #1 

Possible outfit # 2

Possible outfit # 3

Possible outfit # 4

So, end of day conclusion:  No more expectations.  They play with your nerves, with your head and your heart.  It's a personal forecasting system. You think ahead and foresee the possible future.  So tomorrow, as anxious as I am to meet this new character and although I swiped my plastic so I can look ravishing and stop this guy dead in his tracks, I'm changing my ways a little.  There will be no assuming, no predictions, no impending plans. Nothing.  

Stay tuned!

LCxo