So, I walked to work this morning. I walked along the canal and past some horse stables. The horses were nice to look at but once the scent hit me I realised why I never got into horse back riding - the reasons beyond my poverty, I mean. Then as I walked down the street with my right hand protecting my nostrils I noticed scattered on the pavement was several mini streams of water - the kind of streams made by over turned McDonalds drinks - coming from under the tin wall of some sort of horse enclousre. I decided that must be horse piss streams and combined with the smell it turned the quaint section of town to a filthy stinking block. I stepped up my speed.

Other than that, the walk was pretty nice.
- posted by Debbie @ 10:02 AM |

 
So, across the street from my office is a coffee shop, a chain shop and they do serve the best coffee I have ever gotten from a chain coffee shop. It’s deliscious, I’m sipping it now. So tasty.

Anyway, there is this woman who works behind the counter who looks so familiar to me it makes the coffee buying experience a little uncomfortable. As she looks familiar to me I believe I am familiar to her and the first time we saw each other, both unable to place one another, we started our barrista/patron relationship off with a little animosity. How dare we not recognize each other.

Every morning I go in there and think, ‘is it that she looks like my cousin?’ Also, strangely, the first time she saw me she instinctively spoke English before I even opening my mouth. I had heard her speaking French earlier. Her French is perfect – as far as I can tell. Maybe it was because I was a new face in the café. Perhaps it was because my armpits were clean-shaven. Who knows? But she immediately reverted to English, which sound like her first language.

I’ve been going in there for two weeks now and I think he have settled into a nice barrista/patron relationship. Mind you, things will have to come to an end when I finally get a coffee maker. Their coffee, scrumptious as it is, cost two bucks a cup. I’m not made of money.
- posted by Debbie @ 9:56 AM |

 
So, today is a big day for the cat I used to live with. Really, GRC and I were renting rooms in his apartment.

Anyway, the cat…well, the cat is large, I’m talking 22 pounds large. His name Oscar but generally goes by several endearments ranging from Fatty Boom-Boom to 2Phat (his rapper name). The last time he went to the vet she prescribed some special food for him in hopes that he’d loose a pound a year. Since then, Fat Oscar has been having some issues and today is the day some of those issues get rectified. Today, Oscar is getting a tooth pulled and that should solve some of his problems. Personally, I pray is solves his bad breath problem as the cat suffers from extreme halitosis. Those of us who love him also suffer from his extreme halitosis.

He’ll be knocked out with a general anaesthetic as a local one may push him over the edge toward feline diabetes. The vet has never operated on “a cat this size” so she is concerned about how much medication is needed to knock the fat bastard out. Then of course they worry about a cat of that size asleep on his back for so long. I’ll be thinking about the fat one all day.

The vet inquired about how much Oscar likes his new food and then answered her own question when she discovered that he had gained 350 grams. The cat is fat.

So, on the weekend, it got pretty warm here and as the temp goes up, it seems that my standards of acceptable dress plummets. It’s like I loose all shame at the 33-degree mark. So, do my neighbours, apparently. On Saturday, I was out on the balcony – or terrace in the local parlance. I share it with the couple beside me. We both keep our back door open to encourage airflow through the apartment. I stepped out there to hopefully catch a breeze and when I turned around there was my neighbour cooking pad thai in her underwear. At least I now know we have something in common. We both like those hot shorts from American Apparel.
- posted by Debbie @ 9:43 AM |