The Monday morning after dark

In two weeks, The Drop will be 365 days old. This domain will have four years on the interwebs, and I will have aged a decade since I wrote my first princess story.

We used to be cute.
Forgetting Anna started out as an equal balance of emotional hockey, poetry, and teenage rebellion. In 2010, it was rebuilt, and I finally settled into reviewing music that year. However, it was still meant to be about 25% hockey and poetry combined. Since we abolished our cable service, I've kind of fallen out with the former. Then I lost my sex poetic drive.

Nonetheless, I now feel the need to entertain you with my incessant rambling of my recent engagements. Partly because I've been so focused on music, music, music lately, and partly because I haven't done one of these since last year.

Wednesday morning was pancakes. Pancakes and the self-dissapointment of being unable to finish watching Disney's Aladdin in the early hours of morning. Although a poolside afternoon before going to Chapters, a vocal lesson, and a 9:30PM showing of Friends With Benefits the previous night could be to blame. (I cannot stress how hilarious Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis are in this film. I saw it twice for the brilliant screenwriting and soundtrack music.)



I worked from 8-5 on Thursday, because they called me in. And because I had nothing better to do. Then I wasted the rest of my evening and also managed to put my bus pass through the wash. No, of course it didn't survive.

Friday. Another full day of work, during which I made fruit sticks (again) and cookies. I don't believe that I've yet mentioned this job at Sobeys: well, I got a job at Sobeys. Then, I spent the evening cleaning up cat vomit.

Saturday with an early start! I woke up at 6AM to wrap a birthday gift, fed the neighbours' cats one last time, and headed off to work. I was unfortunate enough to come across a really picky couple the first time icing "Happy Birthday" onto a cake.
Strawberry Dulche de Leche
After that, it haunted me for an hour. I just couldn't stop thinking about the godforsaken cake. While I hadn't destroyed it (certainly a passable degree of neatness for any ordinary person), I knew that someone else (namely the cake decorator who was on lunch) could've done better.

As soon as my shift ended, I hopped on a 4PM bus to the birthday party. An afternoon outside at the splash pad and having water balloon fights on a trampoline made me forget all about the day's earlier woes. Dinner at Turtlejack's, followed by way too much ice cream cake and other junk. Washed down with a Japanese animated film, and I'm fast asleep.

It rained on Sunday morning, leaving my inner Earth spirit a tad disoriented. It birthed me at 6AM, left my body for a few dark hours, and birthed me again at 10AM in the breaking light. I find out that I'm really quite terrible at both drums and guitar on Rock Band.

I go home after brunch, make these citrus shortbread cookies, and prepare myself for another party. A work party Daddy's hosted. One where every coworker brings their family, and where we realize that we don't have enough chairs outside. And one where Mommy gets so fed up with the screaming little boys that she yells for them to "shut up". They shut up.

The cookies were a hit; the double-and-a-half batch devoured.

I replaced the lime peel and juice with lemon.
Feeling nostalgic, today began with a speedread of the second half of HP7. Following one of those Kirkland cookies that someone brought to the party and that made me feel guilty, I biked to Sobeys to retrieve my uniform and check my schedule again. Yep, full day tomorrow as well. Then I pedaled onward to the library, where I dropped off an overdue Gone Baby Gone (2007, Ben Affleck).

The place hadn't opened yet, so I decided to go to that warehouse store. The Recordings store on Kerr Street isn't ever open (on Mondays, especially), and Grigorian only sells classical/jazz CDs. They wouldn't have had Lupe Fiasco's Food & Liquor. And they definitely wouldn't have had Lupe Fiasco's Food & Liquor for 50 cents, brand new. Which is what the cashier charged me for it. Which must've been an error, I protested, indicating the $5 sticker on the plastic wrap. She shrugged and asked me if I wanted a bag for it and my other purchase, Atonement (2007, Jon Wright, $3).

Remember that "Kick, Push"?
Then I went back to the library, picked up some reading, and bought one of those non-longer-in-circulation-and-I-probably-smell-funny books. "Leave the Office Earlier", it's called; a productivity/self-help type book, because I still don't believe that I'm efficient enough. And I love dissecting self-help material with a laconic sarcasm evident in some of my writing.

It was still fairly early and the sunshine gave the feeling of euphoria, so I took to downtown Oakville. After a swim shop, trying on an ill-patterned capris-length romper, browsing kitchenware, a card store, and Ten Thousand Villages, I walked in a couple of consignment shops.

The first one had a light, spring green dress outside that enticed me. (Later, it wouldn't fit very well.) Inside, there was a real snakeskin skirt and a magnificent Valentino dress. To be honest, I'd be very uncomfortable with python exterior rubbing against my legs. No luck at that store. The second shop was more promising, and I ended up buying a maxi dress very similar to the one pictured to the left.

Ta da; that's a week in my life. Be glad I don't frequently do this.

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