4 AM Musings

Day 163

Okay so it's 4 am and I just got back from a party downtown so I'll make this brief. Honestly, I can't remember much of what happened today I am unclear if that means very little happened or I had 3 too many Chardonnays to remember things properly. Here's what I recall:

I spent the morning doing chores. I did laundry, went to the bank, fetched wine, paid bills, and took out the trash. The entire time I was completing these tasks I felt like I was being punished. I felt like I had stayed out past curfew and instead of just plain grounding me to my room where I could do anything I wanted, I was put to work. Then I realized that these types of things are what grown ups deal with on a regular basis, and yet I still felt like I was being punished. Where the eff is Peter Pan when you need him?

Today I complied my nasty Christmas mail blog for publication in the chapbook being put together for a reading series I got signed up to read at. I emailed my bodyguard and begged him to copy edit it for me and tell me if it is a piece I should read. He told me it was not. Actually, I think he was a offended by my take on Christmas mail. This made me want to unfriend him for not having a sense of humour (people who send out Christmas letters and family pics thinking people actually care and that these are somehow gifts are weird and silly). His polite loathing also made me want to include it in the chapbook even more, and in a way, I hope it pisses everyone off.

I was at a birthday party this evening and ended up eating this very expensive good-looking cake. And, it was disgusting. It had an almost old wet sponge texture to it, and the whipped cream frosting was way to light. It was the kind of cake that would've been better suited to put on the seat of the person next to you as it would smear nicely when sat upon. What I learned from eating this horrible, nasty little cake is that I only like trashy birthday cake. I am just fine with a boxed cake covered in can frosting. Why go all out? Besides, if you have any frosting left you get to lick out the can. When you buy a store bought fancy cake with whipped cream frosting the only thing you can do with it is try to make a hat out of the box it came in.

At work this evening I realized that we were all hitting on each other. This is not uncommon in the service industry but I think we take it to a new level when the bartender asks me to fetch him extra straws and makes a gesture that looks like him jerking off as this somehow means straw now and if that isn't enough him and the other bartender did it in unison with their tongues hanging out. The crazy thing is that I knew that jerking off meant straw. In a way I am totally fine with this new level of harassment and to be quite honest, I didn't really mind that the bartender had his hand on the small of my back for far too long. Actually, I am quite excited to go to work, but next week I am going for the cook.

I don't know what it is about catching the 3 am bus but everyone on it is gorgeous. My friends and I spent the entire ride looking at the eye candy, rating them on a scale of 1-10 on whether or not you'd sleep with them, and grunting. The only person who was the least bit creepy was the guy with the I-phone flipping through photos of black shoes. Hmm...somehow he was still a 7.

-Canadian Castaway