My cousin's elbow is in fact broken. This means that she is no longer "unbreakable" (as she always advertised herself to be), I have free licence to laugh at her some more (and am extending said priveleges to you) but most importantly, it means that I was right.
I like to be right. Probably my favourite state of being.
You know what I don't like? Mosquito bites. I mention this because last night, in an effort to get out of the house, The Boyfriend and I had dinner outside in a park with an amazing view of the city and the mountains. But it being May there were some mosquitos out. I'm not sure that I was bitten, but I'm not totally sure that I wasn't bitten and as a result the hypochondriac within is making herself known and my skin is just itchy all over.
It could be mental preparation for this coming weekend when we will be taking off to the Shuswap--if there are bugs up there this time of year, they will find me. Seriously. My legs, especially, have a tendency of swelling up when bitten and its actually very painful. Amy just advised me to go with the really strong bug spray, even though its really bad for you. She's clearly trying to kill me off.
But its a small price to pay for fresh fruit, the lake and all the wine I can drink. Not the killing part. The bug bites part.
I guess this is my way of telling you that there will be no post on Friday or Monday. Absence makes the heart grow fonder you guys. If I'm not here every once in a while, then you will miss me and that is good. We have to forge our own identities apart from each other you know? Otherwise how will this ever work out in the long term?
I tried to make you extra jealous by finding amazing images of the Shuswap so that I could fancy link it for you. But I failed so you should just google image it and you will see. Breenuh , I was right about Jen Lancaster, I'm right about this.
So I'm a shame bather. Meaning that I shower because society shames me into it. I don't particularly like it. Well I don't like the process afterwards. All the towel and hair drying and arm lifting and moisturizing. Its a lot of work. But I do it because I know its expected of me. And let's face it, its nice to know that you smell good. I smell nice. I make that effort.
Which is more than I can say for the miscreants that rode on the bus this morning. What is it about me exactly that screams "if you smell bad I would like to sit with you"? I thought that I had my I'm-a-b*tch-don't-sit-with-me-or-I-will-cut-you face on? Apparently not. Because if you had any kind of body or enviroment odour (environment as in, your house smells bad and so do you) you sat with or stood over me. I didn't appreciate it. Especially because with all the constant shuffling I could never get quite used to all the different odours and so I was constantly gagging a little.
When you leave your house, maybe a quick smell check is in order? No need for a cologne bath, but perhaps some deoderant quickly? Febreze yourself? Something.
I'm glad we got that sorted out.
Its Monday guys. Which means that its my very favourite day of the week and good things are bound to happen. Things are already looking up- Amy is away from Thursday through next week, a co-worker made me a lasagna and Jen Lancaster is thrilling me again with Such a Pretty Fat.
I didn't mean that about Monday- but all the rest of it was true. Free lasagna? Garfield is so jealous right now.
Here's hoping all your commutes are odour-free!