Prattle on
Friday, May 20, 2005
So, I have been dreaming in French. I think it is my excitement for my impending trip to La Belle Ville dans la Belle Provence. Quand j’arrive dans la ville j’ame bien avec tout ma coeur, j’espoir il-y-a beacoupe des hommes avec les mullets qui veut m’ amoir. I don’t know if all that is French, I just know it was fun to type. So, how you like my French now, people?!

I’m having a very Toronto day thus far:

This morning on the streetcar this woman got on wearing a sweet pair of really tight jogging/biker pants. She had an ass the size of Los Angeles. She was carrying a brief case and based on her demeanor I think it was casual day at her office.

Then I saw about 4 Toronto-Blonds. A Toronto-Blond is a woman who, for some reason, is under the impression that blond hair is more attractive than their natural hair colour so they dye their hair some rediculous shade of white, and for some reason never get their roots touched up. These women are often the subject of everyone’s favourite game “Name that Eastern European Nation”.

I walked by a construction site while on my way to the café run by an Italian brother and sister duo. The brother handed me some excellent coffee. We had half our conversation in Italian. My Italian is in it’s rudimentary stages, but I hope to get better. While in the café I was ignored by two minor Toronto celebrities who work for the TV station across the street from my office. They were in black from head to toe. I feel like I belong here.

Then, I had a conversation with my boss about world music. He told me he was real excited about this CD he has. The artist is a former auto mechanic from the Congo who hooked his thumb piano up to an amp and plays this crazy techno-esque music while wailing away in the background. Doesn’t it make you wanna dance?

After work, I will be trapped heading eastbound on a packed highway with every other Torontonian escaping to Montreal or a cottage – I heard somewhere that the 401 is the busiest highway in North America (solely due to poor urban planning).

I wonder what else the day holds. I guess I could really go uber-Toronto and bash Vancouver while comparing Toronto to New York. But, that is just too critical for me.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
So, I haven’t made it to the gym in a week. Due to the Great Capuera Drama, I didn’t go to class last night and because of a hang-over + rain I didn’t play soccer on Saturday. I am one of those people who feel the lack of exercise. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those fit bunnies who prance around the gym in ridiculously short shorts exposing half their ass as they bed over the hamstring leg curly machine or whatever it’s called in the YMCA parlance. Nor am I the svelte goddess with the beautifully shaped arms looking perfect on the lat pull-down. No, I am not one of these women. I’m the chick sweating on the treadmill at 6:15am, in her modest three-quarter length pants while intermittently singing “Holdin’ out for a hero”. That’s me. I’m the one that goes from machine to machine and gets lost in the repetitive motion until my brain ebbs and flows into post gym euphoria. Like juissance – or so I remember.

I’ve been really lazy and I’m kicking myself for it because I’ve fallen in love with the tiramisu from the café across the street and now they are making creps. I will find no mercy there. Also, my constant pilfering of candy means that I have a full bowl of the stuff in my living room and last night I actually ate a pack of fun dip, AFTER I had a soft serve twist cone and a peanut butter sandwich … for dinner. I’m spiraling, people.

Tomorrow I am heading for Montreal where I will spend an entire weekend team drinking with two friends.

My big plan was to walk home tonight. A nice hour long stroll. However, my café boyfriend (in my brain, only) has invited me to their “happy hour” tonight. After work, they are giving away free cocktails and letting us taste their new evening menu. Do you hear me, they are GIVING away cocktails and free food! I have to go. I do, plus, perhaps the cute Director of Strategic Partnerships and Business Development at PureTracks/MoonTaxi will be there. I got a strategic partnership for him.

Anyway, when I get back from La Belle Ville – New Leaf!
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
So, last night GRC got back from Mexico. Amazingly, she actually has a tan. For those of you who don’t know GRC in person, the woman is white as a sheet. She is almost transparent. GRC is so white that she has been known to spend time in tropical climates and come back marginally off-white. Well, this time she is almost as dark as your standard rubber band. OK, I just looked at a rubber band and I think I am over-stating. Anyway, she is back, a tanned goddess.

It’s great to have her back, because now I can complain about boys full-time. Last night I filled her in on the local dramatic man-gossip I have been collecting from my friends. The sheer volume of ridiculous stories caused me to suggest to her that men have actually started speaking Esperanto. They often say one thing, but what they are trying to express has absolutely nothing to do with what they mean. So, “I’ll call you” actually means “See you later, maybe” , “I can’t wait to see you again,” means “I will now vanish like Kaiser Soze in The Usual Suspects,” and “I’d love to spend more time with you” actually translates to “You can buy personal training sessions at a discount.”

Now, I was under the impression that Esperanto was an almost dead language of the Planes Indians in what is now the American Mid-West. Well, as it turns out I was wrong. Esperanto is actually a language made up by this Polish Doctor guy who wanted to create an easily understood universal language – a lingua Franca for the whole world. What a dream. Mind you, the words were all based in European romance languages and had those grammatical structures. So, Esperanto was just as difficult to learn as most languages. Good try. However, the more I think about it the more I realize that men are indeed speaking Esperanto! They use words that sound like English; I am convinced they think they are being clear. But in actuality their words have completely different meanings, and there is no way we can understand them.

How are men and women supposed to communicate? This is why I have just decided to start relying TOTALLY on body language. While it is just as misleading as Esperanto it’s WAY more fun. I figure that if we are going to be lead down the garden path, then we should at least have a good time while we loose our way.
So, Belinda Stronach switched sides


Sorry, I find this hilarious.
Monday, May 16, 2005
So, it’s time for a road trip. That’s right I have plans to get in a car haul ass to Montreal. Well, Montreal or Ottawa. I’m pulling for Montreal. My friend, the one who will be doing all the driving, has people in Ottawa. Really, she just wants to get out of the city and this I understand completely. However, while Ottawa is…well, Ottawa wins for the prize for being better than nothing, I can’t resist the call of Pont Champlain, Parc La Fontaine, et beacoup des mullets qui les Quebecios porter. Ah Quebec, truly an enigma. Home to both the country’s fashion divas and fashion disasters, there is nothing like La Belle Provence. The last time I was in Quebec, not only did I see a healthy collection of mullets, I also saw acid wash jeans and not in an ironic sense.

Truly, I would be happy with Ottawa. The canal is nice and I also have friends there that I love. And, of course, there is the tail. I love beaver tail in the springtime and you just can’t get it in Toronto. The best thing would be to leave Toronto at 2pm. We could pull into Ottawa at 7ish and pick up some tail, and then it’s only just over an hour to get to Montreal, chomping on tail as we drive.

The main reason I am excited about the road trip is the long weekend. I’m scrambling over here and could use a day off. It’s like I’m a pent-up pet, sharpening my nails at the door, screaming to get out. Somehow, I think the whole country feels this way.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
So, yesterday while hung-over I made tacos for dinner. I love them so much I wrote a song:

Taco taco taco it’s sooooo deliscious

Taco taco taco not tooooo nutritious

Taco in the morning

Taco at night

Taco is your best friend

Makes everything alright!


I'd like to thank Old El Paso.

Powered by Blogger