I pity the Chinese

Saturday was a blur of walking the city and shopping. Em and I got our facials (a tradition now) in Chinatown. I found a super cute pair of shoes over at In & Out in chinatown and an even cuter winter jacket that I’m hoping will at least stay in one piece until the show falls. But we aborted ChinaTown pretty fast, it's not good for me to feel so tall, it goes to my head.

At 7 we headed for the Mr. T doll exhibit. Some guy from New York had his collection all on display. The dolls were cool, the people were hot but the $2 beer was the shit. We drank as much as we could while still looking like we were really interested in the art. A little drunk we decided we should probably grab some dinner. Sara was involved through work so couldn’t leave with us so we stole her boyfriend and headed for a nearby pub.

We ate, laughed and drank. There was a heated discussion about engagement rings in which we all learned that Sara’s boyfriend doesn’t want to have to buy her an engagement ring… yikes and another when I expressed my distaste for single moms who introduce their children to the men they’ve been dating for only 2 weeks. But it was lively and fun.

Ran into a good friend from Highschool after just having a conversation about how small the world is. She apparently has lots of single male friends and wants to hang out again. Twist… my…arm….

Everyone tired, full and tipsy we piled into a cab, and headed for my apartment where we all immediately passed out.

Sunday we hit a diner for breakfast and wandered the Market and the city for a bit. Before long Em and the crew were ready to hit the road. Hugs all around and they headed for home while I headed for bed.

Post nap I headed for Sara’s place to abuse here Video On Demand. I’m now officially caught up with Entourage. God I love Vinnie Chase.

Beer makes the floor softer

This week has been a whirlwind of sleep deprivation, ‘strategic’ meetings and overtime. Between the new kitten that I swear has A.D.D. and my upcoming trip to Vancouver with work, my week felt more like 5 minutes then 5 days. I basically looked up from my screen, bleary eyed at 6 on Friday, swore and ran out the door to celebrate the weekend. I was ready to have some fun.

By 7 I’d hit the grocery, liquor and hair product stores and was home. I quickly cleaned the apartment, forced myself to eat half a bagel… we won’t get into what happened last Friday night when I forgot to eat dinner, but I think we can all agree that drinking on 1 cup of coffee, a Mr. noodles and a vitamin C isn’t the recipe for success. Had a quick shower and was just putting the finishing touches on myself when Jill rang to say she was downstairs in desperate need of a drink.

Drinks poured, she started to recount the horrid few days she’d had a work at the hands of her merciless boss. Another call, Jill’s boyfriend. Another drink poured and we all continue to chat and balk at how horrible she’s being treated at work. Anther call. The BGFF arrives. Another drink poured. Drinks, music, laughter… exactly what we all needed after our respective long days at work.

Finally at 8:30 Emma, the husband and the German arrive after a 4 hour drive in from the sticks. Hugs all around, more drinks poured, car unloaded and we’re off to the pub. Jill and the b/f head for the DJ Jazzy Jeff concert while the rest of us immediately take up position at the local pub and begin ordering. The BGFF of course manages to spot the only gay boy in the sports bar (needle in the haystack) and before long he and his friend have joined us and the BGFF is smitten.

Highlights for me included a lengthy discussion I had with Em and her hubby about a well placed finger during sex which made her husbands face go redder then a tomato, watching the BGFF pet a girls Red haired wig with a straight face and of course pigging out on buffalo chicken.

From there we stumbled down the street to a little swinger bar I know. The place had just the effect I thought it would on everyone. The BGFF went into high gear, Emma started to giggle, her hubby got nervous and the German got drunk. Between the secret curtained off ‘champagne room’, the naked bodies coming out of the walls and the live porn on the big screen I’d say everyone handled it all really well. One drink and one broken heart (I’m sorry but I do not give my number to men who look like they are over 40 and are hanging out in a swinger bar) later and we headed to the micro brewery up the street.

At this point we’re all wasted and all the funniest, smartest, hottest people in the room of course. Beers ordered. We became loud and obnoxious, drunk and disorderly. All memories of my workweek faded into a blurry, foggy mess as each sip hit my lips.

Bars closed, back at my apartment Em, the hubby and the German all head to bed. The BGFF and I begin to rummage for food. Before long we hear a loud groaning, followed my a scream and a ruckus. What was the ruckus you ask? Well it was Nate’s cat of course. For no reason it attacked the hubby’s neck, no stitches required but there was blood. In the morning we would find out that the attack also resulted in a hole to the air mattress he was sleeping on. Whoops. Luckily, beer makes the floor more comfy.

Everyone else now safely asleep with the cats locked out, the BGFF and I retired to my room to paint his nails, gossip about last weeks boy and gorge ourselves on the spicy chips.

Friday nights… brought to you by citrus vodka… JASG

A to-do list

I know, I know. It’s been forever. If I get one more email from you or a stranger, I’m going to scream.

Here’s the thing… haven’t you ever found yourself ass-deep in something that you weren’t sure you wanted to admit to your friends? Well. Since you’re all reading and it was all a little complicated, I chose to keep things quiet for awhile. Not knowing how to spin it all, or what exactly to let leak. Savy?

A few things I’ve learned in the last 2 weeks though;

1. You don’t have to sleep with someone just because they bought you a burrito.
2. Men (specifically gay men named Nate) handle turning 26 with even less class than yours truly and most certainly dance worse.
3. I am Martha Stewart - Thanksgiving is the season of waxed leaves, amazing stuffing and aprons that match oven mitts to a T.
4. I may not actually be the cat-hater that I thought I was: She’s a kitten and her name is Zoe (Baby Z- shout out Brad and Angelina) and she’s melted my cold, cold heart.
5. I’m an alcoholic – I think I’ve been drinking straight for a few weeks now. How am I ever going to handle the holidays? I’m officially putting myself into detox.
6. I’m a short-est – Her shortness is an amazing person and I may need to come up with a nicer name for him. I love him. Suggestions?
7. I miss my little BGFF. He flew in from Vegas for 1 night only last Friday and it was one of the best nights in a long time. I barely remember it, but that’s beside the point. And the new leaf he’s turned over – no more sex – is keeping me entertained by the second. I give it until Sunday.
8. I have the absolute worst taste in boys. The WORST.

Ok, I’m not going to try and back track the whole last little while. If you have questions; Ask, I’ll answer. But let’s just move on.

I will tell you one little gossip highlight that I’ve become privy to. You’ll want to re-read my blog entitled ‘Tall, Dark and Handsome’ posted Tuesday August 29th if you plan to follow what I’m about to tell you. Ok kiddies; remember Boy A? Ahem… rumour aka the BGFF tells me that he is engaged to his girlfriend of 1 month!!! I don’t think I need to tell you that there is a shotgun involved in this ceremony. Perhaps another bride will waddle down the aisle sometime soon… wink wink…

Now, just think. The wedding was at the end of August. If I had in fact stayed at the wedding, it’s safe to say I would have gotten drunk (see- ‘Open Bar’). It’s also safe to say that due to my heightened self-esteem (see- ‘Open Bar’, ‘Gorgeous Dress’, ‘Sexy Hair’ and ‘Sluty Shoes’) I would have probably ended up hitting on Boy A. Obviously due to the above, I would have been successful in my seduction and would have most likely been thanking him for the burrito in the morning (wink wink). So, just think; If Boy A has what I can only assume is ‘Super-Sperm’, then if it weren’t for the BGFF’s need to catch that flight, I would probably be 2 months pregnant.

Mmmm hmmm

Ok and one last note. I was surfing around my favorite smutty sites catching up all of today’s dirt and I came across the following picture on The Bosh. Oh god, as Lainey would put it ‘pure loin quiveration’. I miss Swingers Vince. God wasn’t he gorgeous? People always bawk at me when I put him on my top 5 pick list. But this picture sums it up for me… pure sex. This guy would throw you against the wall so hard the neighbor would get to join in on the fun.

So in honour of VV’s return to the forefront of my smutty mind and no doubt to the starring role in my racy nighttime dreams… I’ve decided to post for you what I like to call my Celebrity ‘to-do’ list. I’m sure you’ve all seen the episode of friends that I’m referencing… Please keep in mind that my list changes constantly and is therefore NOT laminated.

Celebrity To-Do List

1. Johnny Knoxville
2. Owen Wilson
3. Dane Cook
4. Vince Vaughn
5. Prince Harry

Waking up in a fog

There’s not a whole lot to say about Saturday (but if you glance down I’ve found quite a bit). We woke up early, and I drove Eddie home. We’re both the laugh at anything, sarcastic as hell morning people so it was a pretty fun drive. Bickering and loving every second of it.

I dropped him at his car, honking to make sure we woke Matt, we promised to try and reunite more than every 6 months and I headed for home… the pounding in my head started.

I walked in and immediately made a bee line for bed again. But this time the room was spinning and there was this moaning noise in my room that was driving me crazy. It was of course coming from me.

At 5pm I woke up to my phone ringing. It was Sara. She demanded that I report to the shower, dress myself and meet her at Trinity Bellwoods Park for Blanc Nuit. (At least I think that’s what it was called). Basically, there were artist exhibitions set up all over the city and they would be there until 7am Sunday (so what’s the rush!?).

I did as I was told, relishing in my shower and trying my best to dress appropriately. What does one wear to hang out on queen west, outside at night? I mean, I’d ask the hookers but… I’m not sure that’s the right look… I am trying to attract a boyfriend though…

The best thing about Sara is that she doesn’t give a fuck. I mean, I don’t think I care, but then when I’m around her I realize that I’m (to quote Ferris) wound so tight you could stick a piece of coal up my ass and 1 week later find a diamond. Not Sara, 5 years later and you’d have a blacker, harder piece of coal (gross, but you get the point).

Sara had warned me that this would be an extremely classy affair and that I should most definitely come with a Mickey of vodka and a traveling cup. Just what my hangover needed.

We met up at Vinny’s since it was raining and he lives across from the park. I arrived and was immediately in a good mood when I found that Kate was down for the weekend. She and I never see each other so 2 weekends in a row is cause for celebration. Sara arrived and Vinny fished our respective Mickey’s out of our purses and mixed us all martini’s. Vinny swore at Bell Canada on the phone (not sure how they get away with treating people so badly) while Sara, Kate and I chatted and gossiped over our drinks.

Eventually Sara was ready to go and we headed for the Blanc nuit (or whatever) sipping away.

We saw some really interesting stuff. At one point we actually hit up that café that Adam Egoyan owns. There was a director there showing a really interesting documentary about and women with substance abuse problems. (Exactly what you want to see after drinking for 3 days straight – literally gripping your traveler while watching it). Also, we saw this amazing Alice in wonderland type display where 2 people were sitting at either ends of a really long table that was lined with these wonderful cakes, in various states of disarray. They were so tired, and so sick looking. They were trying to eat all the cakes by 7am. I could have done it.

Around 1am we had walked from Trinity Bellwoods all the way up to U of T. Somewhere along the walk I realized 2 things;

1. I chose the wrong shoes. And
2. My hangover was threatening to kill me.

We arrived at the campus and began our walk down the man made fog trail. It was a pathway that wove around through a park that had been filled with fog. And not light fog like the kind you just but your low beams on and reduce your speed. This was like thick, ‘I can’t see the person in front of me, I’m in a really horrible horror movie’ fog.

It really was quite beautiful actually. They had lights hitting leafless trees in just such a way that it was as if you were looking at beautiful black and white photography full of various shades of grey. (the picture below is actually from the park that night)

5 minutes in, the path started to turn. The people in front of us kept stopping. I started to think about the fog and how thick it looked. As I waited for the people ahead of me to move and I shifted my weight back and forth on my aching feet I visualized the fog entering my lungs, in, out, in out. Suddenly I started to have trouble breathing. “Calm down’ I told myself as I pushed forward, yearning to get out of the fog. What once felt beautiful and magical now felt tense and smothering.

I broke into a light sweat. My feet were killing me. My stomach began to lurch remembering all the booze I’d put in it the last 2 days. My lungs screamed for oxygen and I struggled to get my bearings. The people in front of me still weren’t moving.

‘Breath’ I kept telling myself ‘Breath’. But each breath I took didn’t seem to fill my lungs. It barely raised my chest. I opened my mouth wider, gulping. Mentally screaming at the people ahead of me to move forward, to lead me somewhere where I could see my hand in front of my face.

I couldn’t take it anymore, I leapt into the mud and around all the people standing around on the path… I hurried ahead down the path and finally found myself emerging from the fog. All at once, my breathing seemed normal, the sweat disappeared from my brow and my stomach settled. Sara and the others wandered aimlessly out, silhouette’s first.

We said our goodbye’s and I hopped a cab home rubbing my feet and tossing my half drunk traveler out of the window while Sara dialed her boyfriend to meet her and continue until 7am.

So apparently I’m not only and alcoholic but I’m also Claustrophobic… This is going to completely affect my ever living out my sex in an airplane while drunk bathroom fantasy…

Reliving College Days

I wish I had some super fantastic excuse for not writing. Unfortunately all I’ve got is a massive hangover to offer you… and some stories.

Managed to make it through the day Friday, briefly 'resting my eyes' over lunch in the last stall.

I was supposed to head straight to Daphne’s party. But the things is, I had been freezing cold all day as is usually the case when I've had far too much to drink the previous evening and so instead of heading for the bar I headed home. 'Just for a sec.' I told myself. I walked straight to my bedroom, crawled into bed and pulled my duvey up tight around my neck. Ahhh just what I'd been needing all day. It was 5:10 and I had never been happier. I closed my eyes trying to envision what I would wear to Daphne's party.

I met Daphne in college. She was fun, quirky and loved coconut rum. She was just like me aside from the rum; I liked everything. We hit it off instantly and by the time second year rolled around, there was no question we'd be roommates.

I'd never been friends with anyone with a trust fund before. First, it was the brand new Honda civic they bought her during the school year, next was the $550,000 home her parents bought her after school on Queen West. But tonight was going to take the cake, tonight was the night I was to attend her retirement party. The retirement party of a 26 year old, taking time to ‘find herself’ and ‘just hang out’ with her boyfriend.

My eyes opened at 7 and I have to admit I was slightly relieved to have side stepped the party and the inevitable quarter-life crises/ friend-envy that was likely to have ensued..

One party missed. One party to hit.

Dressed, drinks in hand, I headed for Matt’s. Every 6 months Matt, Eddie (Eduardo) and I get together to relive old college memories. We were all neighbors back in college who spent night after night in front of the TV, eating pizza and drinking beer.

When I had realized that these 2 parties landed on the same night it had seemed natural to combine them. After all, Daphne was my roommate when I was neighbors with the boys. But, both immediately responded that the party would only piss them off. Got to love the honesty. I prefer the ‘I fell asleep because I was super hung-over’ excuse.

I arrived at Matt’s and the three of us sat around, drinking, catching up, exchanging funny stories of one-night stands, dates gone wrong and ex’s we’d love to forget. Before long we were out of booze and heading to the pub. Many, tequila shots later and I was dealing with Matt who needed to be put to bed soon. Otherwise he was liable to put his head on the table and fall asleep. Eddie and I steered him out of the bar, and back to his apartment.

But Eddie and I weren’t done yet. We cabbed to my apartment, poured some drinks and played a few drinking games while making fun of Matt and calling him repetitively. That’s what good friends are for. At 1:30 we realized last call was sneaking up and we dashed around the corner to the local pub where we both ordered more shots for each other and continued to order mixed drinks.

We spilled back out onto the street just after 2 and danced our way back to my apartment where just like old times; we made a bee line straight for bed.

There’s just nothing like catching up with your old college friends…

No longer a virgin

Got off work last night and hobbled to the subway station. I say hobbled because I’ve lost control of all the muscles in my legs. They are vibrating and seizing with great displeasure randomly. Apparently my thighs didn’t like all the squatting, rolling and running for dear life I put them through on Wednesday. And I don’t think I need to tell you how much my shins hated being shot at. Paint balling is officially not for girls like me who like to swing their hips when they walk. But, I’m not going to lie. I loved shooting people so much I am thinking about organizing another trip with some friends. But, this ‘day after’ crap is worse than a hangover, worse than the awkward ‘morning after’, worse than anything I’ve ever put myself through before.

So anyways, I hobbled to the subway and rode out to Coxwell last night. Cam met me with a big bear hug and a big smile and we headed for his place. But not before picking up a pack of cigarettes. I’ve learned that when I’m with Cameron I smoke. A lot. So we stocked up on cigarettes and headed for his place. He’s just moved out on his own (how very grown up) and his place is just too cute. It even has a loft that you get to by ladder. Very sheik.

The wine was poured and we started to catch up. Cameron listed as I dutifully broke down my sisters wedding, the boy from the Atlantic Ocean, the family drama that is on-going (my cousin is a retard) and the boy from last weekend and I sat transfixed as he recounted his own family drama (court cases and all), his travel plans and all about the new boy… Yummy, yummy… I’ll call him Ben & Jerry’s because of the whole 100 flavours thing. The boy has been to something like 200 countries. Very cool. Very perfect for Cameron… I smell a wienner.

One bottle of wine down, and we climbed the ladder up to his little media center and sat transfixed while watching the new show Ugly Betty. I loved it. Especially the boss… tooo hot. Oh and Cam picked out the greatest new expression… fabulously douchy!!

Show ended, as did the last bottle of wine.

“Martini Time’ Cameron cried as he effortlessly climbed down to the sitting room. I on the other hand wavered slightly. My legs were at a point where they didn’t want to listen to me because they were sore and they couldn’t listen to me because I was drunk. The ladder was going to be difficult. 20 minutes later, I made it down and we walked to the store for lemonade.

I was more interested in all the Halloween candy and toys then anything else when we got there. And had great fun dancing around Aisle 4 in my orange witch hat. And the reason I love Cam? He never gets embarrassed. Even when he farts at a stranger’s house and it smells so horrid that he clears the room (it happened- but that’s a whole other story). Instead he gets louder and offers encouragement. He pointed out the florescent yellow blowup devil horns to me and before long I was scanning my head at the cash register (the cashier looked utterly un-amused) and dancing out onto the street.

Back at the house, horns on, music on, Cameron mixed his new specialty; Lemon Rosehip Martini’s, Shaken not stirred, while exclaiming that everything was ‘fabulously douchy!!”. I’m told that if I had been born with the proper genitalia I would have had rose pedals floating on top. But alas, I have breasts and instead tossed a few sour skittles in.

It didn’t’ take long before I was on his computer checking my email (compulsive I know), nothing too exciting but then… a message popped up from a boy on Cam’s list. I don’t know where it all came from or what I was thinking. But before long I was having super sexy gay talk online with a stranger. I lost my internet sex virginity and all the while Cameron stood over my shoulder cheering me on and demanding that the guy turn his web cam on and jerk off. The guy even sent me naked pictures of himself! And buddy, whoever you are… that was NOT 8 itches.

It was getting to be a little much for me towards the end so I decided to wrap things up. I told him to come over and do it to me in person. Then I gave him my address and directions and logged off, giggling happily to myself and high-fiving Cam. At this point I was definitely drunk. I had just had online sex while pretending to be a gay man, then sent that man over to my ex-roommate (not on good terms) ‘s apartment. I would have loved to have been there when that door was opened… hehehe Douchy! I can’t wait to see or hear the fruits of my labour on that one.

Drunk, happy, spent… I chugged my last martini, smoked my last cigarette, made a quick call to Vinny to report my prank (he laughed his ass off) and Cameron put me in a cab and handed the driver a $20. We waved goodbye, both of us disappointed to end the evening but both glimpsing tomorrow’s hangover at our respective GUJ’s.

Arrived at work this morning, head pounding slightly. But had an instant smile on my face when I read an email from Vinny declaring that he’s nominating me for best prank of 2006.

Still got it… JASG

Long Time...

I know, I know I haven’t written. I suck. But I am at an all out war with Rogers right now so I haven’t had the internet at home and the GUJ is getting insanely busy lately prepping for my month out west which is seriously taking away from my ‘sitting around rambling on about my life to all of you who read my blog’ time. Tell your friends about it and to tip the waiters... I'll have more time!

Where to start… Friday?

So Friday Nate, Her shortness and I finally got together and went for dinner. Very strange that they’ve now been dating for 4 months and I’ve yet to really have a conversation with him. So the 3 of us headed to the local pub (our pub) and ordered drinks and got to talking. Now let me first go on the record and tell you one thing; I really like him. I think he’s nice and treats Nate well and that’s all that matters. However, he is short. And what do I always say about the short?

Three words; Short Man Syndrome.

Short Man Syndrome. Symptoms of this syndrome include but are not limited to; overachieving, over use of the word ‘bro’, distinctive hairstyling, fondness of heavy metal, aggressive ‘2 hits. Me hitting you. You hitting the floor’ behavior, close talking, obsessive back slapping, the constant desire to experiment with facial hair and obsessive voice mail checking and cell phone talking. Please consider yourself officially diagnosed if you fall below 5’5 and at anytime have found yourself administering the extra hand pump while shaking someone’s hand.

That’s right. At first I was sitting there thinking. Wow, this guy is totally coming up short (bu-dum-bum) in the Short Man Syndrome department. He’s not doing any of the stereotypical things or displaying any of the tell-tale signs. But then I realized it. He’s a name dropper. Very unique. They should trap him (lord knows it would be easy, he probably finds himself tripping into puddles un-rescued for days this time of year) and make a case study of him. Surprisingly the name dropping, once you’ve noted it, diagnosed it for what it is and moved on isn’t that hard to take. It actually becomes interesting after awhile and I learned a lot about all the people who own bars in Toronto.

All and all the dinner went well, I liked him, he liked me. La de da.

We came back watched a movie and then they took off for Princess Shortness’s place to practice some non-procreational sex. Mmmm mud puddles.

Always Be Prepared

Saturday I was puppy sitting (yes, still) and spent most of the day playing and walking him. Which is surprisingly fun. Sometime in the afternoon Nate came home and we headed out to do laundry. I lied and told Nate that I was washing my lucky sheets because the puppy had gotten puppy prints on them while in reality I was washing them JIC (just in case) I ended up with a gentlemen caller that night. No I was not expecting anything or even hoping. But I did know that a certain past lova would be in town that night and that I would be out at the bar, drinking liquid aphrodisiac (vodka cranberry) and like the boy scouts say ‘Always be prepared’ and you know how I love me some boy scouts. So we returned, I made my bed, showered, skanked up and we headed for dinner with the boys.

Good to see everyone. No sense getting into names, heights or number of times I’ve slept with them all (Troy – 2, All but Troy -0) but I will note that everyone is becoming very grown up, very good looking and very successful. I sat there with my friends looking from each to the other, with just one thought on my mind, ‘holy crap, how have I been hanging out with these guys for so long?’.

Dinner ended and everyone wanted to head back to houses for showers and drinking. I needed to let the puppy out and get Nate home so he could head to work (bar backing on weekends). Troy jumped up to ‘come see the puppy’ (aka come stake out where he’d be sleeping tonight) as did Kate, my new favorite addition to the group. See, up until last year it was myself and the boys. No girls. And quite frankly, trying to discuss my bikini wax shocker surprise with the boys was getting a little tiresome. Ever since Kate came along I’ve been ecstatic and we try to steal a few women to women moments with each other whenever we can.

So the four of us headed to our place, opened a bottle of wine and talked for a bit. Kate and I took the puppy out and had a nice long chat about the wedding plans and how fun the night would be. Nate and Troy stayed behind to catch up. They were roommates when Nate came out back in college so they’ve stayed tight ever since. No, not that tight.

Before long, the puppy was back in the cage, and we were all enroute to meet everyone at the bar. The night went along as it usually does when we all get together for one of our impromptu reunions. Someone gets really drunk, someone else tries to pick up (unsuccessfully), someone reveals something really embarrassing, someone else tells a secret. Drama, drama, and nothing but laughs. I got caught up with all my boys and offered them all my pearls of wisdom on each of their individual problems through glazed eyes and cranberry flavored breath.

Drinks flowed, jokes flew and when his hand touched my ass, I didn’t flinch.

The next morning we got up and headed for our designated Breakfast local. They make the best eggs benny in town (or so I’m told - I don’t do eggs) and we all ate through our hangovers, recapped the nights events and laughed that Kate and Vinny had had to get up at 7am for marriage counseling classes at church. Yikes, remind me not to marry a catholic.

After sad goodbyes all around the boys headed for home and I headed for the couch where I spent the rest of the day.

The Stink Eye

Monday morning I woke up to ‘The stink eye’. No it’s not an STD. It’s something the Puppy gives you when for some reason he can’t open his right eye anymore than someone in a Cheech and Chong movie. Something is definitely wrong. I know it’s been like that for awhile (I thought he was getting a cold or was just tired) but it’s definitely worse now. Shit. I open the door to take him out and he immediately misjudges the stairs and starts falling down. Double shit. I pick him up, put him in the car and take him to the vet reliving the conversation I’d had with my boss before she left the whole way there; ‘why would I possibly need your vet information? What’s going to happen to him in 2 weeks!?’ I had asked incredulously. Idiot.

I raced around until I found a vets office, burst in and hurriedly explained my situation while trying to catch my breath; ‘Bosses dog. Just got a raise. Fell down the stairs. Going to get fired. Dog is blind.’

Sixty-Three dollars later and one tub of cream and we had a 7 month old pug diagnosed with a tear to his cornea. I’m sure you can just imagine how happy I was to hear I’d be rubbing a glob of eye cream directly onto his eye ball 3 times a day.

Oh and if you’re wondering how a puppy actually gets a hole in his cornea?

Just ask me to baby-sit. That’s how.

More tomorrow… I’m tired though, the boss just picked up the puppy and a bark, whine, bathroom break free night is just looking too good right now…. But here’s a teaser… I have a welt the size of a toonie on my ass… courtesy of work today… any guesses as to how it got there???

No I do not work in the porn industry….yet…. JASG

Who can stay naked the longest?

I’m going to make an amazing wife. Maybe I won’t cook or clean or any of that stuff but damn! I can decorate.
Now that the apartment has been painted it has instantly been transformed into a home… it’s so cozy and homey. I love it. So when I got home I started moving Nate’s paintings around, trying to find the ultimate places for things.
As I was skipping around singing ‘Just a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down’ (not sure why) I came across these super cute shelves I had impulse bought a few weeks back. I knew at once that they were just what the room needed. Before I’d hung them I was racing around looking for fun things to put on them. And I found none.
Instantly I knew what needed to be done. Ding Ding Ding… Trip to Dollarama… I started to sweat instantly.
I don’t know if it’s the smell, or the sound or the way that everything is so wonderful but Dollarama is my crack.
I get a basket and I walk ever so slowly down every aisle. Making sure my eyes linger on every single little trinket for moments, dreaming what it would be like to have it in my home.
Picture frames, candles, jars with fun rocks, hooks, baskets, placemats, decorative pots and pillow covers. By the time I left I craved a post-coitul cigarette. A wandered home, carrying my 4 bags of fun, a lazy smile on my face.
I ran up the stairs and announced to the cat ‘Now we have some fun!’. Before long I had, hung photo’s and shelves, placed pillows, lit candles, arranged window sills. I’d even taken out the trash!
When Nate walked in at 7:15 I swear to god, he stepped back and ‘WOW it’s like a home!’. To which I shrieked with pride. He loved it all and I loved him for it!
He changed and we raced downstairs and into my baby to head for Oshawa. As I was unlocking my door, Nate threw his open and both our heads shot up and our eyes met across the hood. If you could have heard our thoughts at that moment it would have gone something like this;
Me: ‘He didn’t lock his door last night. I’m going to effing kill him.
Nate: OMG I didn’t lock my door last night. She’s going to murder me. Should I run? No she’d catch me and tackle me. I don’t want to get dirty.
I took a deep breath. Don’t let something silly ruin your Dollarama buzz. I climbed in and said nothing. That’s when I saw that the glove box was open, as was the center consol. Deep breath.
Nate, who’s been too terrified to speak yet, finally says ‘ok, is anything missing?’ I glanced around. No nothing was gone. Not that I really keep much in there other than chocolate bar wrappers and half drank bottles of water. ‘Nate, I think you’re in the clear. What would they steal?’.
So we started driving.
When we hit the highway, that’s when we realized how they had really gotten into the car. Nate didn’t leave the door unlocked at all. They (the robbers) had popped my window out. It was a windy drive and holy eff is that place far away. When we finally pulled off of the highway onto Park Drive in Oshawa Nate turned to me and said incredulously ‘I can’t believe they consider this the GTA, we’re in the sticks!’ to which I giggled.
We made it over to Em’s brother’s place and he signed my passport pictures as I regaled him with wonderful stories of Em’s projectile vomiting the weekend before. He laughed until I switched over to his sister wanting to skinny dip, that’s when he pushed us out the door and we laughed all the way home.
Before long we were curled up in our favorite positions watching the hilarity of Kenny vs. Spenny and their ‘Who can stay Naked the longest’ competition. Damn funny.
I could soooo win that competition in our house.