This afternoon I found myself in a strange (for me anyways) situation.
I found myself flirting with a very young plumber in my messy house.
Yesterday I stayed home from work, sick with a stomach bug. It was the first time I've been alone in the house since Swee'pea was born. I slept for two hours, I rested and lounged on the couch and watched home design shows. Finally, I managed to throw in a load of wash. Around 4:30 I heard the ominous sound of water dripping. Inside the house. When no one was in the shower, so it couldn't possibly be the somewhat usual leaking from the shower through the floor into the kitchen. When I looked in the kitchen I saw a wave of blue laundry wastewater pouring over the kitchen sink, down the cupboards and onto the floor like blood from the elevator in The Shining.
Which is how I found myself flirting with a very young plumber in my messy kitchen.
Is it me or do people just keep getting younger and younger while I get older and older?
Ok, so now that I've confessed, I don't know what else to say about it, except it was weird and I felt very out of my depth.
And yet. I couldn't resist commenting on how nice it was to see a plumber who wears a belt. Better yet, the belt works.
And he said that he does 50 lunges a day to keep his bubble butt capable of holding up his pants. And he tried to show me his ripped underwear.
I averted my eyes.
He suggested that my job is boring, and that I must be boring, in a way that implied that he knew I couldn't possibly be boring.
I told him that his job does not appeal to me in the slightest... dealing with other people's shitty water.
It was a totally harmless absolutely flirtation, unthreatening to any absent partners, but just a teensy bit thrilling. I mean, he was REALLY young, like 21, if that even. And I am not 21. I haven't flirted in... oh... I don't know, a VERY long time.
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And, because I'm greedy and Alpha Dogma indulged me, I have more interview questions. Yippee! I love this meme!
High heel espadrilles: your favourite new fashion trend or the dumbest thing since the trucker hat craze of 2004?
This is actually quite a revealing question for me. I had to google "high heel espadrille," which as it turns out is not what I thought it was. I thought it was a little kitten heel sandal or something. Anyways, I actually kind of liked the pictures I saw but I almost never wear high heels. I love the idea of high heels, but they are just way too uncomfortable for me to wear for any length of time. If an occasion calls for high heels, like a wedding, I always bring a spare pair of shoes or birkenstocks to put on for the reception.
I also have to say that I while I didn't understand the trucker hat thing at the time, not exactly, in fact I was WAY ahead of time. Yes, way back in 98, my friends and I found a plastic bag of six brand new bright orange trucker hats on the bus. They featured a logo that included a maple leaf, a cow, a wheat stalk and barn with a silo, AND the letters C I J.
Because we were desperate for drinking money, we had an idea that we thought was a brilliant stroke of entrepreneurial genius: we'd sell them! We'd each wear one (there were three of us) to show our confidence in the utter fashionableness of the merchandise, then drink the proceeds.
Except no one would buy them. Luckily, one of my friends had a lucrative job at Toyota so she fronted our drinking money, as she did most nights, just until we sold the hats. We tried to say they were from the Canadian Institute for Idiots and Jugglers and other things depending on the (non)buyer.
Eventually, someone, an acquanintance took pity on us and bought one for 50 cents. We moved to the Albion. One guy turned out to be a juggler himself, and he pulled three eggs out of his pocket and started juggling (who carries eggs in their pockets?!?). We were so impressed we gave him a hat.
Now this next part I'm not proud of, but I was very very hammered. I was pitching the hat to another table of people I'd never met before. And they were due for another pitcher, so they all piled their money on the table for the next one. And while I was trying to persuade them to buy the hat, I took the money off the table. Then I told them they could keep the hat for "free."
We bought another pitcher with their money, and we each kept one of the three remaining hats.
The next night, or maybe a few nights later, I was drunk again and having a smoke with one of those same friends. I dropped the smoke in the front pocket of my coat, and dove my hand in to get it out before I ignited.
Someone put K-Y Jelly in my coat! Ewww!! What kind of person does that?!?
Then I noticed the hard little bits in the K-Y Jelly. Egg shells.
Apparently I carry eggs in my pocket. That's when I remembered that the juggler very kindly gave me the eggs, and I, feeling very clever, put them in my pocket for breakfast the next day.
No, I don't have a double chin. I don't know what you're talking about. See? I don't see a double chin. (Never mind the evidence of the strain of the neck muscles trying to keep the double chin away.)
Cash, interac, cheque or credit card: which one do you use most frequently when shopping for groceries?
interac all the way, although if I had one of those air miles credit cards, I'd use one of those.
You find a spider in your bathtub. Do you squish it, blast it with killin' chemicals or do you gently scoop it up and relocate it outside where it goes on to live a long and happy life and becomes a contributing member of the spider community?
Actually, I have dealt with this very situation. Well, almost the very situation. It wasn't my bathtub, it was my living room floor, and it was a really really big spider.
I put a jar over it and left the house until Sugar Daddy got home and put a card underneath it and put it outside. He usually takes care of all bugs in the house in this way. Unless it's an earwig or something and he just smashes it.
Does this season of 'House' suck or am I alone in this belief?
You're not alone. I can't quite bring myself to say it sucks, but I don't always bother to watch every episode. If I'm doing something else more interesting, like blogging, sometimes I just don't quite bother.
It's a bit too dark... Cuddy perjoring herself was a bit too much for me to believe, and then House continuing with the addiction was too bleak. Cameron kissing him too forced... And then, a week or two ago, House giving himself a catheter?!? It was just too much for me. And there isn't as much unbelievably smart-ass doctor comments as there used to be, in my opinion.
What are you having for dinner - and will you give me the recipe, please, please, please!
Well, tonight we're out of groceries so it's takeout curry. For that you pick up the phone, dial, then go out a bit later to pick it up.
I wrote that between dialing and going to pick it up. The youth drop-in centre that I walk by a lot with my camera but end up being too chicken to actually take anyone's photos is across the street from our local fast food curry place.
Tonight I thought about bringing my camera since it was still light, but I didn't. I knew I'd be too chicken. When I pulled up I saw a young girl with a pixie 'do, rainbow-striped toque, black docs with rainbow striped socks peaking over top and rainbow laces. In other words, a girl after my own heart. She was having a smoke with a tall skinny guy with green hair.
When I came out, he was standing with his back to her and she was sitting on a concrete step, her hand covering her face, army green canvas backpack at her feet. I thought I heard a sniffle and wondered if they were fighting. But I don't think so. It was freezing cold with a blustery wind, wind that had blown the former puddles into frozen still bubbles on the sidewalk. Another photo that wasn't.
As for the recipe, Sugar Daddy made dahl last night, which was very good, but I don't feel like typing out the recipe right now. Another time.
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For anyone who's interested, you can download most of the Rheostatics' last show here. It's just missing the last two acoustic songs (and the site is sanctioned by the band themselves so you don't even need to feel guilty). Also, CBC is planning to broadcast the show sometime, though I haven't been able to find out an exact date. One place said Saturday with no time, and another place said sometime early next week (or maybe it was this past week?)... anyways, you've been warned that if you're interested you should try to find out.
Ok, just found out here. Saturday at 8 pm. But how do I find CBC radio 2? I always admire people who listen to cbc and think that I should do, but seriously, how exactly do I find them on the dial? And how do I know the difference between radios 1, 2 and 3? I'm so dumb.
In which she (finally) reads the fine print
9 hours ago