Prattle on
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
So, today, this afternoon, just about 30 minutes ago, I went shopping for a new pair of jeans. What made me do that the day after Valentines Day, I have no idea. I have decided that shopping for jeans is a bit of a minefield. If you go shopping for jeans – or anything – when you are feeling badly, you end up feeling REALLY badly. If you are feeling good about the way you look, you run the risk of the jeans reminding you why you sometimes feel bad.

This led me to make a decision. When I feel badly, I will only shop for bras. I love buying bras and frankly, the girls always look great.
Monday, February 13, 2006
So, it has been a while since I have written. I actually have a job and that job actually demands a lot of my time right now. I think it may be sucking the creativity right out of my soul. All of my energy has been focusing in a certain direction. Yes, feel sorry for me.

Although, I have plenty of self pity at this critical time of year. I have managed to keep the wallowing to a certain level and not go totally off the deep end. Valentines day, I have decided, is like a mild herpes infection. It reoccurs only once a year, and only after you have forgotten that you ever had to go through it at all. In the good years you go through it with someone to talk to. In the bad years, you are alone.

In other more happy social news, I was invited to a very posh party involving a certain broadcasting company and an evil magazine empire*. The party will most likely be populated by people who work harder on their coolness than they do on anything else. I’m not very cool and that’s fine with me. These people generally stop talking to me in short order as I rarely have anything shocking to say and I just can’t gossip about vague, fringe writers and which bar they were seen making out in. I’ve met these people in Toronto and frankly I am not keep to meet their Montreal counterparts. So why am I going? Free booze, free food and a chance to wear a pretty skirt. Simple as that.

I get to bring a date to this little soiree. Should I be excited about this? I just decided to bring an actual date. I’ll bring a guy instead of showing up with my best friend (who is generally better than any date except that she doesn’t put out…well, for me). I’ve decided to bring a boy. Imagine. This is totally out of character. OK, in all honesty, it means that I will call up my ex-bf and get him to go with me as a favour.

Please, I’ll probably chicken out on the phone.

*that statement was made purely out of jealousy. That particular company produces one of the loveliest magazines in country. I would give my eye-teeth to work on it. What does “eye-teeth” mean anyway? In this instance I am trying to convey my extreme desire.

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