When I was much younger, I saw Mickey Rourke in Angel Heart and totally fell for him. The guy was smoking hot. Who cares if the Cosby girl showed her boobs in the movie, Mickey Rourke was going to be on screen soon again. I mean, see for yourself:
So…
Huh???
What the fuck happened:
When I was 12, one fine morning, I woke up and decided I didn’t want to go to school. It wasn’t something I did often so if I feigned a bad stomach ache or bad headache I was usually allowed to stay home for the day…
That particular morning my imagination was running overdrive and instead of staying with a classic, I decided to improvise with a new method. I went to the bathroom and found my mom’s talc powder box I had bought her for mother’s day a few years back, opened it up and started using the huge fluffy ball to spread the powder all over my face to make me look white as a ghost, therefore “really” sick.
When I told my mom I wasn’t feeling well, she could tell right away, no only was there there a smell of lilac in the air, but I had a huge blob of powder in my ears. FAILED. I washed up and got ready for school. E for Effort.
I don’t really like to write about work on this blog but lately I’m assaulted with such delicious moments, it’s hard not to share…
As I was talking with one of my co-workers during our morning break around his desk, he turns to the window and asks me to come closer, hummm, time for gossip I start thinking. While still looking out the window and not at me and in a very very low hush he says:
Co-Worker: I meant to ask you something, I know you and your “friend” have gone through this whole gay marriage thing, right?
Me: Yeah, we bought the license at City Hall, got the marriage certificate hanging on the wall.
CW: Does that mean you’d have to go through the whole legal thing if you divorced?
Me: Yeah, same as any other married couple… lawyers and all the big shabang
CW: Oh my god!
Me: Well they can’t really make a special marriage license just for gays, otherwise, they couldn’t call it legalized same-sex marriage. It’s the real thing.
CW: But… (and in a even lower hush and now looking at me with concern) what if you divorce?
Me: Don’t worry, it won’t happen, he’s Italian, I’d probably end up wearing cement shoes at the bottom of Lake Ontario before any lawyer is called in
CW: (Blank stare of horror)
Me: Yeah… Trust me I know where I stand, that’s why I keep doing all the cleaning and the cooking, I certainly don’t want to ruffle the family’s feathers… (looking down as I walk away)
I wonder how long it will take to spread around the office… but then again, I’m the one laughing.
Even though I’m not a cook, I know certain rules about food and one of them is that chicken has to be well cooked to avoid salmonella. I’ve always been very worried about it and always make sure the chicken meat is white through and through.
One night at a restaurant with friends, I ordered a salad with a grilled chicken breast and raspberry vinaigrette, it totally sounded delicious. When the meal arrived, the first thing I did was cut the chicken in half to take a look. To my horror it was pink in the middle. I looked up to find the waiter and waved him to our table. I apologized and told him I wouldn’t be able to eat this as the chicken didn’t look all that well-cooked. The waiter took the plate away immediately and said he would make sure I get a new one pronto.
It didn’t take long at all before a new plate was in front of me AND for me to perform my “chicken test”. I gasped when I saw that the chicken was once again pink in the inside and immediately called the waiter to our table to show him the undesireable colour of the meat. He seemed astonished as well and took the plate away with much apologies… I was getting annoyed at this point and was getting ready to cut this party short when all of a sudden the waiter comes back, with the same plate, with the chicken meat cut in the middle the way I had left it and puts it back in front of me before saying: “I will gladly serve you another dish if you prefer, but the chef just gave me a mouthful saying that this chicken is well cooked, it’s the raspberry vinaigrette it’s been marinated in that gives it that pink colour”
I didn’t want to ask for something else, I felt totally stupid and embarrassed (#100). I ate the whole thing and left the waiter a very generous tip.
Drunk drivers suck the big one (#14)!!!
Another gem by a drunk driver… let’s hope his stint in jail will never let us find him at the wheel again…
2 weeks ago, out of nowhere, the empty desk across from mine got dressed with a computer and a telephone… it didn’t take a genius to know that I had inherited a new co-worker, I didn’t ask questions but was really hoping for a “normal” person this time. No such luck… it was instant disdain.
This way too bubbly woman (#13) in her 50′s but thinks she’s still a teenager’s first question to me was to find out where I lived and if I owned or rented, I replied with “huh, hello… I like cats”
What the hell was that??? Can’t she just say hello? maybe even how are you? then, just maybe, asked if I lived in the city?… And to make it worse, when she came back from lunch that same first day, she turned to me and asked if I had missed her while she was gone, I looked up at the clock and acted surprised when I replied: “oh my god, it’s 1:30 already, I better go to lunch”…
She cooled down a bit after a few days of not getting answers and watching me with my iPod on trying hard to ignore her, until she overheard me with a friend talking about this screaming homeless who was finally removed from Cabbagetown. She shrieked: “You live in Cabbagetown, me too!!! Where???” When I told her I lived above the hardware store, she went ballistic. I asked out loud if anyone had valiums and she laughed. Here’s pretty much what happened right after that:
Her: You live above the hardware store? (super high pitched cheerleader voice)
Me: yeah
Her: You must know Bill then
Me: Bill? humm… (Like I know them by name or something)
Her: Yeah, Bill, the good looking guy with the wavy black hair
Me: Oh yeah, I know you you mean
Her: He’s my future husband (loud giggles)
Me: Huh, I’m pretty sure he has a girlfriend
Her: Really? He didn’t tell me that when he gave me his phone number
Me: I guess you’ll see for sure when you give him a call
Her: Actually, it’s his work phone number, I’m supposed to check with them for certain things I need for the house renovations
Me: (silence… because if I say something, it will only be to say I’m sorry for hitting her)
Her: You’re sure he has a girlfriend?
Me: Unless it’s a guy in drag, yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s his girlfriend tonguing him down in the parking lot behind the place…
Later on that same week, I heard the other job she had applied for came through… Tuesday will be her last day as my work neighbour… so sad. Let’s hope the next one is “normal”.
We just saw the movie The Strangers… I didn’t piss my pants or anything, but it was fairly scary and I did perform a few high jumps at times I must admit… Sadly, it sort of reminded me of one of the stupid pranks I used to do as a kid, in fact I’m surprised my sister didn’t have grey hair as a teenager…
See, I used to play a lot of pranks on her… stupid things like filling up the glass in the bathroom full of water and when she’d use it after brushing her teeth, she’d splash water all around the vanity, not realizing it was full… or go in her car and put the wipers on, the radio volume at top level, the heater on full blast so that when she sat in and put the key in the ignition, a heart attack would follow… but I think the worst was when I would hear her come home and would then go hide in a closet, or corner, or room somewhere and would stay there for very long time until it was the perfect time to pounce giving the desired effect of almost having to call 911… how fun!
After seeing The Strangers, I will never subject anyone to that prank again…
