Day 339
Tomorrow will be my last day in the United States for quite awhile. I am wondering if I still know how to say "about" in Canadian. I guess I would worry more about my re-acclimation if I wasn't sitting around in mourning for my shitty array of cheap fast food, Wal-marts, and rednecks.
Anyway, this morning I went out to brunch with my parents. We ate at a tiny cafe that is in a town of around 500. The cafe was filled with old people and thus, I fell in love. The woman I fell in love with walked in with her husband--okay, so she kind of waddled. The second I saw her gaudy purple flower shirt and huge belly covered in a white skirt with the pockets stuffed and her jiggly neck I knew she was easily the cutest person I have seen in years. I watched her and listened to everything she said and noted that she drank iced tea and even wondered what brand of pantyhose she was wearing. Hey, I never said I wasn't a stalker. Anyway, turns out that she not only is she the cutest person in the world, she also has an unbearably cute name: Dorothy Fitzgerald. She makes me want to call up the man I am supposedly marrying in 6 years and tell him we have to create a child and name it Dorothy Fitzgerald.
I visited my 87 year old grandmother today. She is losing her mind which is sad and also quite funny. Today she said that her dad put the basket on her walker. She also went on a rant about how I should get a girlfriend and a boyfriend and go out with them and have the girlfriend teach me how to treat a boyfriend so that I know what to do. I am not sure if this implies a three-way but it very well could.
Today mostly involved a complete TMI story. At some point in the past few days I have decided that I need to buy fancy underwear that isn't white. Yeah, I have no idea where that came from but I believe in it just as much as devout Catholics recite their Hail Mary thing. My mother came along on my quest for underwear and we went to several department stores where she picked out the only options there for people of my size: nude-colored support panties that go up under the tits. After a Taco Bell break we decided to try Wal-Mart where I not only found panties--the same six-pack bullshit, just not in white and some satin things that will probably give me chronic yeast infections--we also found a shirt. This shirt is a "designer" (come on, does Wal-mart seriously have designer anything) black t-shirt with a big red maple leaf on it. I cannot wait to wear it in Canada--the land where it is probably a law that one must wear pro-Canada gear as every street is filled with maple leafs and red letters on chests and hats that in all-caps spell out, "CANADA."
One of my favorite pastimes for nearly my entire life (I can't prove that I did this as baby but I am sure I pissed on him) has been pissing (tee hee) off my father. In the evenings my father basically eats lemon drops and watches television and since a run-in with us cheating in a game of Sorry! he has decided to not play games again.
Tonight I tricked him (guilt-trip, sob-story about how I am leaving soon) into playing cards with me and my mother. Not only did he try to cheat by laying any card he wanted despite the rules of the game, he also refused to shuffle when it was his turn to deal (he literally just gathered the cards and dealt) and finally, his response to my mother asking, "Is it my turn?" was: "It doesn't matter." Conclusion: My dad is a diva and I love to play cards with him but it doesn't actually piss him off. I will try harder perhaps stealing his truck or at least putting a fruity air freshener in it.
That is literally all that happened today. I know, I am getting horribly boring in my old age. Oh wait I left out that I watched Wheel of Fortune, cleaned my dentures, and ate creamed corn.
Tip of the Day: Do whatever you need to do to fill the gap of appropriate dying your hair purple, you know, the gap that spans from 16 to 67.
-Canadian Castaway
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