Sunday Scoop: A week in review

Lcpod

We Used to Wait by Arcade Fire
Out of my Hands by Milow
Where is my Mind by Yoav 


Sunday Scoop will be a weekly post wherein I simply write random things from my week.  Completely against my usual writing, there will be no transition between paragraphs.  They stand alone, kind of like me. But alone, short and sweet, like these paragraphs, is secretly empowering.

To be alone is empowering

To feel empowered is great for the moral

To have a great moral is addictive

Therefore, to be alone is addictive.

A sound train of thought !!!!

Allons-y les etoiles du francais (a thing my dad always says, the literal translation into English being let's go french stars)

I've taken my love for left overs to a whole new level. I ate gnocchi for breakfast.  Having some food left over from my late night dinner with company, I devoured it this morning as I woke up completely ravaged. My stomach was on the verge of eating itself, so I was left with no choice but to take the most accessible food in the fridge. But if I would have only exercised a little more patience and given myself a couple more minutes, I would have noticed my day old purchase of as fresh as they can be at this time of year strawberries.  Italian mini potatoes vs. scrumptious fruit.  This, my friends, is a lesson on patience.  It is a virtue.  Embrace it.

A pigeon shat on my head today as I walked back from Church.  Apparently it's good luck for a bird to crap on your head.  Whoever came up with that obviously just got shat on by a bird and wanted to look cool.  The only thing bird shit in your hair does is teach you humility.  We ran into the nearest fruit market.  My sister seemed to be beating around the bush about why we needed a napkin or any sort of wipe.  I flat out shouted "A pigeon shat on my head and I need to wipe it off !!!!!".  We both laughed at my situation but it was very easy to see that she was laughing harder.  Thank goodness I live just around the block from my Church. I sped walked home to wash myself of this crap, literally. 

My sister, 29 years of age, asks me, 27 years of age, did you message AT and Meaghan?  I respond: Ask them about what?  She replies: about Justin Bieber.  Yeah, that's right, tomorrow's Valentine's day and all us single ladies are going to see Never Say Never 3D !!!  At first I thought it was just another one of those silly things that we do.  That was until I saw the previews for the movie.  Now, I am genuinely excited.  We all have Bieber fever and we have no plans of seeking out a cure. 

If any of you watch the Jersey Shore aftershow, you'll recognize the following:  Bieber my balls.  Cha has taken a liking to that.  She tries to say it but she's never been successful at finishing it without laughing.  Her last attempt made me choke on my food and whatever beverage I had at the time came out of my nose. BIEBER MY BALLS she says again.  Ahhh, there are the chuckles. Almost Cha, almost. 

I got a new phone today, not so much by choice.  The piece of junk I was lugging around for some years finally gave out.  A piece fell out of where you insert your charger.  It just fell out.  Ok, well, I guess that's that eh.  I am now rocking the new BlackBerry Torch.  It's a sweet gadget and I feel terribly cool with this slick piece of technology.  I've been fiddling around with it ever since I got home.  Thanks to my trusty little memory card, I was able to carry over all the media from my old phone and I found a voicenote I forgot I had even taken.  I sent it to Justin (JB) in December.  I was home for a family party my sister and I were organizing (we're a very large family so it takes alot of coordinating).   JB had said he could bring the house down with his renditions of anything Johnny Cash.  One of Mr. Cash's songs came on and I sent him a tiny recording of it. I immediately froze when I listened to the voicenote. I didn't really know how to feel. I was immediately sad, slightly angry, slightly disappointed, slightly if this were my old crappy phone and not my new Torch I'd chuck it across the room.  It's just a voice note right ? 

I am officially done with Lady Gaga.  She showed up at the Grammy's in an egg.  That's where I draw the line. Gone are the days of shock value.  Does anyone else not see how ridiculous we all look  adoring a woman who wears steak as a dress and shows up in an egg?  Statement pieces indeed.  I'll still dance up a storm to her club anthems but I couldn't care less for her as a Hollywood character.

My heart beats a little too fast for Max Talbot.

see what I mean ?!?

Did I really just reply to a 37 year old hockey coach on Plenty of Fish?  I did.  Even the older ones don't know how to properly approach you.  But I'm bored, so I'm going to have some fun with it.......Wow, within minutes, that has gone nowhere.  I can't do it.

Coach: How have you been cutie (doesn't this question imply that at some point prior, he knew how I was doing and now is just refreshing?!?  anyways)
Me: Well I've been grand for the 27 years of my life.  How have you been?
Coach: Ok.  Just really waiting to meet you :) Where in the city do you live?
Me: That was forward. In North York
Coach: I'm in Richmond Hill.  Rob.

Cool.  What a killer conversation.

When we shouldn't have, Cha and I did some shopping.  I bought everything on sale.  Loose tanks for 3$ a piece, an offwhite knit notch collared jacket with an assymetrical front zip up, undergarments, and a spring friendly tweed jacket.  The epaulets and the single gold button on the front and the trio of them on the mock vent accentuate the jacket's simplicity and sealed the deal for me.  But that's not my story.  Both our phones were broken (pre buying my new phone, which that of course also added to my expensive weekend).  We split up, not thinking much of it but when we couldn't find one another, that's when panick took over.  It was like when I was a kid and I lost my mom in Zellers or any other big department store.  What a scary feeling.  We found each other but at that point, the frantic sweats had already kicked into high gear and I couldn't cool down from my near-without-my-sister experience.  I may be aging but I'm always going to be a little sister.

Lastly, I just applied to one of the most amazing, intriguing, quirky jobs ever: the official Twitterer for Marc Jacobs!!!!!!!!!!!!  No cover letters or resumes allowed.  Everyone has a 140 character chance at impressing the head honchos at the helm of the fashion house. I can't believe this job even exists.  Imagine I land this gig ?!


LCxo