SUMMER COMMA DONNA

Oh hey there sweet-thaaaaaaaaang...





















It's been awhile, no?














But we've got our whole LIVES ahead of us...














What matters is the here and now.





















And the colour ORANGE.





















And relieving yourself of negative thoughts like the unfounded concern that your favourite orange dress may in fact be...red??

So let's blow off 5th period sex-ed and just BE...

















We could educate eachother and talk in Australian!

Or hardcore make-out in the BOILER ROOM.

Like our dear old friends Jordan Catalano and Angela Chase.

They who were cute sometimes...
















And then 30 seconds or so after this classic push the hair behind the ears move, Jordan got fed up because 15 year old Angela wouldn't put out after two whole weeks of making out.





















Which is more than I can say for Jared Leto's band 30 Seconds to Mars (having never heard them but assuming they're lame just because and having heard they're lame from my friend Georgia who was also repulsed by Jared Leto's soulful rambling about a deeply spiritual journey recording in like, 5 different countries, including one called AFRICA.)

Anyways...Jared Leto is a weirdo.
















And for future reference, I'm not really into this kind of underwear because they are Donald Duckish and look like diapers and make me think of the time my rack was used as a place for tears and while there is nothing wrong with boys crying (it's actually kind of cool when they do), in requesting my rack as THE place to purge salty waves had me feeling like I'd been asleep for 9 months and I didn't know my place in the world.





















Especially since as a teen, I was way less scared about getting knocked up (read: not at all scared, never even crossed my mind) and then I grew up and remembered how things work and it's true what they say.












And now it's time for a friendly reminder that if you go joyriding without your seatbelt on...
















Make sure you check the transmission now and again (like maybe after every time you cruise without a seatbelt.)





















And even if you play it safe, don't play it silly because some lecherous leprechauns have been known to lurk in the midst of latex (and lambskin and also in and around pulling out) so even Cautious Christophers and Christophettes have a responsibility to check it out, d'accord??

Point is, globetrotting and jet-setting with the jet-set is really doing a number on me.






















Yesterday, for example, I travelled with my Travel Scrabble to 4 different time zones (read: cafés) before I found one that wasn't going to give me jet lag (read: close before midnight) and ordered your standard Colombian roast (eventhough African Red Bush tea provides much more room for jokes about rugs matching curtains) and I was with my old friend Jonas who flew in from exotic Comox, British COLUMBIA just for the occasion (read: he was already here for his graduation ceremony last week and decided to stay the summer and we didn't feel like drinking, we felt like thinking.)

It was a terrible game overall (eventhough I got triple word score on T-O-Q-U-E) and we didn't even finish it, we just got mad.





















But that is the cool thing about Travel Scrabble, you can close it up and save it for a rainy day and there are plenty of those in this town.

Today, for example.

I happen to love the rain if it's not too cold out although I wish my steady boy were around on days like these because then it would be at least 6 times more fun.





















Alright team, see you whenever for another prologue that is really nothing more than bullshitting about nothing and do you ever get the feeling that your life is a never-ending prologue that will never give way to the main event??

As my sister's steady boy Russell said last week, "Do you guys actually READ prologues, you guys??"

I'M DOOMED!

FREE NASCAR BIKINIS: GUARANTEED SKEEZ MAGNETS.

My steady told me yesterday that when he was at Urban Outfitters yesterday, Macy Gray was in front of him yesterday in line at Urban Outfitters.





















I hadn't really thought about her much in recent days but her memory reminded me of the Gangstarr remix of I've Committed Murder she did with Mos Def that I used to really like to listen to with my ex-roommate Alliy while tooling around Palermo in a white Jaguar convertible practicing Italian in the year 2004...


































Today I found out Macy Gray played at Time Supper Club last night so I guess he was not lying about seeing her in line at Urban Outfitters.

Friday I will be out of ville and missing Mariah Carey's husband Nick Cannon's appearance at Time Supper Club.





















Not that I would be there anyway. Not that I have ever been there. Not that there is anything wrong with going there. Not that I'm just jealous because I don't have a Blackberry...but I did spend a dollar on a tasty snack on Tuesday afternoon that probably made me the woman I am today.

















More importantly, it was brought to my attention that the package notification left in my mailbox a week ago that was not addressed to me, was in code addressed to me in that it was addressed to M. Carey. One time I wrote my steady a letter and put Mariah Carey as my name on the envelope.





















On an envelope, it's no big whoop but a fake name on a package you need to pick up at the post office is another story. Seriously. My boy gave me the tracking number just in case they didn't get the joke and I went to the post office with all my ID and proof of address and a sense of humour to boot and they didn't think that it was funny and they said that I need a letter from the sender explaining who the package was intended for and why it doesn't say my name on it and why it says Mariah Carey instead and then maybe they will give it to me if the letter makes sense??





















Post office bro must have been more of a hardcore Celine Dion fan because I know I was looking a little under the weather, but he didn't even HALF smile at the mention of Mariah Carey as loosely related to me...






















Because Mariah Carey IS related to me...and my million dollar insured legs that were walking long before Rihanna started menstruating and (not)dating Shia Laboeuf.












































I'm working Saturday night so I'll miss my girl Pam Anderson's appearance at Opera.









































But Sunday I'm actually for real going to Buonanotte to hang with Samantha Ronson and Lindsay Lohan, who I actually for real think are in love.






















I'm not actually going to sup them. I wouldn't know what to say. Plus, I respect their privacy.




















I wonder what Lindsay Lohan says when Sam Ronson answers the phone. I wonder if she says "SUP." like I do...

On second thought, there's no question.

They DEFINITELY be like "SUP."

COMPLIMENTARY BLOW JOBS...five dollars a POP!!!

I just had my first staff meeting at my new job...at Ben & Jerry's.

















This has provided ample oppurtunity for no fewer than 3 much-appreciated BJ jokes an hour, lovingly shoved down my throat in recent days...














It's a step up from the underpaying under-the-table gelato slangin' job I held down the past two summers.



















A step up by $1.50, which is great for someone as stingy as me because falafel sandwiches at Nilufar (1923 St. Catherine W.) are only $1.25!
















And I reckon I'll be wanting them for lunch sometimes instead of Half-Baked or New York Superfudge Chunk.















The manager gave out one high-five during the meeting and I was the starry-eyed recipient.
















It came after discussion of the decoration of the pint containers. One girl apparently wrote "SHOUT OUT TO THE 5 BOROUGHS!" on New York Superfudge Chunk and the manager was saying (but not like in a bad way, just like she was just saying), "I mean come on, does anyone actually know the 5 boroughs??"
























And then I recited them and I got a high-five and then someone said "Spell borough" and then I spelled it and I got a punch in the face.















I didn't ACTUALLY...

Come on! Do you think I have a death wish?!?!
















Although it might have been an okay way to let this girl from small-town Nova Scotia know that I'm not a total dummy, after I said something foolish when she trained me that let it be known that I forgot that Moncton is in New Brunswick not Nova Scotia, yeah I said it, what can you do.





















And let us think back to a time when my sister Hilary's favourite joke was "Do you think I have a death wish?!" or it might have been "What, you think I have some kind of death wish??" after anything and everything that applied or didn't (which was often when it was funniest).


















She used to also say, in relative monotone, "That's a great story, you should tell it at parties."
















I thought it was great and I've tried (with limited success) to develop a thicker skin over life as my sister is fond of straight-up disses for jokes and sometimes I forget that I'm not as good at being mean and getting away with it and I said the party joke a few times but quickly learned that people seem to find it highly offensive and if you're in a situation where there's you, a friend, and a friend of the friend and you say it to your friend's friend who you presupposed would think it was funny, you're likely to get looked at by your friend like you just grew a Hitler mustache during a barmitzvah bathroom break and then you might have no friends left.












I guess Hilary has no room for the faint of heart in her circle of friends which is funny,once again considering this (which is still funny-ish, admit it).





















Also funny was that my long-lost friend Kweku turned up at the meeting too, so we're new in this together and that should be fun sometimes and we both laughed about how it's been years since either of us have had a job with fancy stuff like staff meetings...

Kweku and I were in the choir and the chamber choir at Ashbury in 1999 and four months into the year 2000, we travelled to Austria with the chamber choir to sing great songs like "Java Jive" and hear great songs like "My Heart Goes Boom" which was all the rage over yonder at the time.


Furthermore, it's interesting I should run into Kweku and think of Austria because on this very trip, we visited some cornerstones of The Sound of Music WHICH I REFERENCED IN MY LAST BLOG, cornerstones including the back of the house that served as the back of the house in The Sound of Music...

















As well as the gazebo that served as the gazebo in The Sound of Music!



















This was a great milestone in my young life and I look back on it fondly.


As fondly as I look back on the time I went to Toronto a couple of weeks ago and was wined and dined to the max and served flowers for fun and cookies for breakfast.












There was some funny barbecuing!












And some fancy cheese and fancy crackers too...












The coolest was how my steady tried to woo me with the very same Riopelle de Québec that my sister's steady had tried to woo my parents with the previous day in Ottawa.

My sister's steady had never met my parents before and he heard a rumour that good cheese was the first step to getting into their good graces and you can't blame the kid for trying.














No but really, both succeeded and everyone who needed to be wooed was wooed and the cheese probably did help protect my sister's steady's neck!





















High-fives all around (as my ex-roommate Caroliner would say).

















And shout outs to Caroliner for always being willing to shower me in champagne for no good reason and for being awesome overall and Happy Birthday Caroliner for growing older with grace...which is her middle name by no coincidence.

Caroliner is unable to process gluten without having a hairy fit but I present her with a flour-filled cake anyway, so what.
















BYEEEEEEEE!!!

P.S. Relax Caroliner, I'm looking into this incredible basically flourless cake my mom made for Stephanie Anne Gaty's birtday cake at Easter and I think you'll love it eventhough you won't eat it on your real birthday because I accidentally got confused and am going to be out of town at my steady's mom's retirement party and I'll make it up to you, I promise.