A fabulous day. Glorious weather, unparalleled company, scintillating wit, off-colour jokes, very successful shopping, mouth-watering carbs. We had to pay duty, but oh well… (Lena, Dana, and I took a jaunt cross-border for a spot of shopping. You, uhh, might want to refrain from going to the United States of America for a while, cuz I think we bought up all their stuff…)

I’m exhausted and doing laundry and had to go out to get milk. In addition to the clothes I bought today, I have a garbage bag full of stuff from Dana, including Deb’s plastic/vinyl/latex top and Dana’s pink crushed velvet pimp jacket. The former I am never wearing out of this house, and the latter I must wear out of this house. 🙂 I also have the loan of several books that I can’t wait to dig into.

As much fun as the weekend was, I was plenty tired and happy to get home. Of course, coming home is tinged with a bit of disappointment. Dana and Lena get to go home to people they can talk to, show their purchases to, retell anecdotes to. I drove back to KW, stopped at Andrew’s to drop off the coffee beans I got him, but didn’t stay since they were having a friend’s birthday party at the house, came home, gave my housemates the bulldog sticky notes I bought them, told them Zen is now using Crumb’s litter box, then went downstairs and started unpacking my mountain of bags, by myself. Kind of an anti-climax to things. No one will be sleeping under my new duvet cover with me. No one will be appreciating my new lingerie on me. C’est la vie.

However, I’m not complaining, mostly. We tackled the cake (it kicked our asses), we tried on clothes, we took pictures, we munched Doritos, we watched and commented on porn, we slept, we drove, we shopped, we laughed, we slurped pasta. I am relaxing with a glass of wine and my apartment smells like “Fresh Air” fabric softener. Luxuries all, for which I am grateful.

Who’s that girl?

Yesterday morning I remembered I was out of coffee beans and had forgotten to pick some up the evening prior. I was not in the mood for Timmy’s, so I hit Starbucks to snooty it up. Plus, Rob and I had an espresso shot theory I wanted to try out.

I walked in, and as I was waiting in line my eyes wandered over the shelves of brewing equipment and other peripherals. And my eyes fell on this grinder and my immediate reaction (inside my head, THANK GOD) was, “Oooh! Want!” You may be thinking… so…? Well, you see, the grinder comes in three colours. Stainless steel – shown – which is always sexy, green, and… pink. Metallic hot pink.

Which is the one I saw, and the one I wanted.

God help me, I’m turning into Dana.


A warning or an observation, take it for what you will. One ought not to fall in love with someone by way of their writing. One must be especially careful if the writing is good, for then one assumes the writer is good, funny, clever, profound, sensitive, smart, wise, loving, and true. It is unfair to the writer and dangerous to the reader to hold the writer to the standards of his writing, for in his writing, the writer is his best self; in person, he is a person, and we all know what that means. Well, not all of us. — Jane Juska, A Round-Heeled Woman

Currently about halfway through this book. Wonderful. Marvelous. Glorious. Review will be gushing to the point of incoherence, I reckon. CANNOT wait til her next one comes out in May.


The signs are good that it will be a splendid day when the sun is out, your hair behaves, you are wearing Disco Diva lip gloss and Supergirl undies, and the answer to the day’s Jeopardy! calendar question is: Green Eggs and Ham. 🙂