Day 255
This morning I made it to breakfast again, where for the third day in a row the main topic of conversation was boy bands. This warmed my frigid cockles, but not so much as when we used our bananas to play telephone. See, grad nerds can act just like drunken college freshman. By the way, my wish came true today: I finally got myself an I-Phone. Not only did I get my I-Phone, it had nutritional value and it came with a sexy peel, I just need a little help getting it to do the bubble wrap app.
After breakfast I headed out to my favorite neighborhood coffeeshop. It's the type of place that is on a side street and contains old ladies and kids. Anyway, this little kid and a lady came in. The lady looked like the bartender at a rough biker bar. The kid looked like a tiny geek-to-be (translation: adorable, not in a kid commercial cutesy way). The biker mom pointed out a flyer that was taped to the register and said, "Oh look that kitty is missing." She read the flyer out loud and stopped on the part that read: We have five other cats at home who miss Bootsy deeply. Then biker grandma commented, "No wonder it ran away."
Somewhere just after the little girl tugged on the coat sleeve of a stranger and declared with a sticky pointing finger, "That cat is missing!" I decided I wanted one--a kid, not a cat, I hate those damn things. The kid pulled open the door of the coffeeshop and then declared, "I am going to wait for you in the park." to her biker mama. This too was absolutely precious. It wasn't until she ran out the door and started up the street only to be dragged back in, that I wanted to go get my birth control prescription filled.
Today was a super big day. Today I got my first Canadian cellphone. It was hard choosing a phone company, and having to pay extra for caller ID and voicemail. Seriously, Canada is living in the dark ages when it comes to phone plans, just give me a package. Anyway, one of the main reasons I have been putting off the purchase of a Canadian phone is because I hate how long it takes in cellphone shops. I am not a peel the bandaid off slowly type of girl. I am a ripper. But, when I walked into the cellphone store, the employees were sitting on leather chairs watching a giant plasma TV with men playing poker on it. First off, why the hell is there a freaking lounge in there? Odd. And second off, why weren't there any customers? These were not the things that were going through my head though, the things that were going through my head were, "God, poker is boring to watch." And, "Oh fuck yeah, there's no line!"
The really nice guy working pulled out all sorts of phones and price checked them for me. I didn't particularly like any of the ones that he price checked. I whined to him that I desperately wanted an I-Phone and that the wall TV showing a looped video of I-Phones didn't help. He said, "Someday you will get an I-Phone." He finally price checked an interesting-looking phone. I took it out of the box to discover the perfect teenage girl phone (well, the perfect teenage girl who can't afford and I-Phone phone). He told me that it was on closeout for 50 bucks and that it was the only one left. Immediately, I told him I would take it, I held it in my hand and studied it. It is pretty much a gold square with flowers on it that flips open to show a fat screen and full keyboard. I named it "Chubby." Someday, when I am feeling fancy, I will go out and get Chubby a beaded dangly thing and he (yes, I am making the girly phone a "he") will become an Asian teenage girl phone, instead of just a regular teenage girl phone.
When I looked in the mirror this morning I remembered the curse of having bangs. I haven't had bangs since I was 16 or so. When my hairdresser suggested them I said, "Go for it." And, they looked ohh so wonderful, until the next morning when a part of them stuck out funny from my head and I chopped at it and it looked even funnier (clarification: funny in the "you look like shit" way not the lame joke type of way). Finally this morning I realized that I needed to go in to see my hairdresser, confess what happened, and have her cut my extra long bangs. I went in and played smiley face with a baby for a few minutes, and then was whisked away by my hair lady to be rescued.
She took me into the back area and told me I didn't butcher the bangs bady. She also told me that she had been wearing a wig all day, until she realized that no one took her seriously, so she took it off, and that's why her hair was crazy. Then, she asked me if I had been blow drying my bangs the way she had shown me on our last visit. I said, "Maybe." She knew immediately I was lying and started to laugh. She told me that I had beautiful eyes and that she was gonna cut my bangs short because it would look, "super hot." And, it did. After the bang job, she escorted me out and hugged me. I walked out in a stupor, wondering the ettique of how much to tip on a bang job, and does everyone's hair dresser hug them? If they all hug I have a few good hugs coming to me fromt the hottie that used to chop my locks...maybe it's a Canadian thing.
Most of my day (besides the side adventures) was spent working on my TV series thesis. Now that I have an advisor who knows her shit about TV I need to put in some effort, besides, being a slacker gets so boring after awhile. So, after I came home from the bang job I went out in the lawn to try and get in a little more writing before I went out to meet a friend. I was working on my character bios, and yet another outline for my pilot episode when a guy from my building came up and stood directly over me. I pulled off my Paula Abdul-buzzing headphones and heard him bitch at me. "Why didn't you respond to me?!" I told him I was listening to earphones. He took this to mean that I was inviting him to sit down and chat. He asked me if I was writing some characters. I said, "That's funny, actually, I am." He then asked, "Are any of them you?" I didn't try to explain to him that in a weird way every character you write becomes a part of you. I just said, "No," hoping that a short answer would make him scram so that I could write more. He said, "You should have a bad character like you are." "You think that I am a bad character?" "Ha ha ha! Yes!" And yet, I think he thought this was hitting on me. Hmm...
Tip of the Day: Don't have the fruity margarita, it'll just give you cavities and a stomach ache. (or was it the nachos?)
-Canadian Castaway
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