Day 361
The one year marker of me being in Canada is approaching. Do I feel more Canadian? The answer, truly, yes. Twice today I was approached by people asking for directions and I obliged, walking one woman all the way to her destination. Just last year I was the woman being led around. And now I must look local enough to be asked directions. I am using expressions that are Canadian like: whackload. I am even contemplating (and will probably get) a tattoo of a maple leaf. Damnit, I am a filthy Canadian. Okay, so Canadians aren't actually filthy, really. They are actually quite gorgeous. Shit, now I am even sticking up for them. Gabba gabba...
While I was out today I went to a coffeeshop to do work (translation: painstaking, line edits). While I was working I looked up to see that on either side of me sat single men and I tried to keep in mind a yahoo.ca news article that I read about how to get good-looking guys to approach you at a cafe. And, I realized that even though I was keeping busy and absorbed in my own stuff like the article said to do, I also realized that when I am absorbed in my work I am not making an approachable face. In fact, I am probably making the face of an old maid who is about to box the heads of the neighborhood boys who messed around with one of her 14 cats.
So, I may not have dated for quite sometime but I still have the instincts of my sixth grade self when it comes to liking a boy and not being able to express it. After I left the coffeeshop today I went to a nearby thriftstore where I found a silly mug with wolves on it and I bought it for a new neighbor of mine that I may have a crush on. I told him to come over and get it and when he did it was super awkward. I slammed the mug in his hand and was like, "Here!" He took it and we held an awkward conversation for 20 minutes or so with him standing and me sitting and me not even once thinking to offer him a chair. Then, instead of saying that I bought the mug because I was thinking of him I said, "Umm yeah, I was at a thriftstore today and picked that up it was cheap." Later, in an effort to end the torture of the encounter I said, "I have to go feed a guinea pig now." Maybe if I was the first grade me this sort of thing would work out better. The first grade version of me would chase boys just to kiss them. Why did I ever de-evolve?
Operation Keep Guinea Pig Alive Day 1:
While my friend is away I am in charge of her guinea pig. What can I say? I was feeling like an asshole and wanted to make up for it with a good deed. Anyway, I went in tonight and started talking to the little monster. The towel that she hides under wasn't all lumped up like usual or moving with her under it. The funny thing was that the first thought I had was, "That little fucker got out of the cage" instead of, "That little fucker is dead!" But, after I poured some food,, the fat little animal came out and even let me pet it without biting me. But, one semi-sudden movement later she went running to hide under her towel. I hope guinea pigs don't have weak hearts because I tend to make many dramatic, sudden movements. Man, I really don't want to kill the little bastard. Okay, so what I really care about is that I would have to tell my friend the little bastard is dead. Damnit, I hope I didn't overfeed it. I am scared for tomorrow...
That's pretty much all that happened today besides me avoiding actually working on anything and the fact that my brother made a horrid comment to the mug man on my facebook page as a joke and the mug man didn't get it and sent me a worried message. Not only did I scare the shit out of my latest crush, my brother did too. Good thing I already got the look of an old maid maybe I will just grow into it now.
Tip of the Day: Your mom will forgive you without words and sometimes you have to do the same.
-Canadian Castaway
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