It's been a long and perilous weekend in Harlotville. The children were away for the weekend and after I did something to deserve this...(what I did is a secret, of course)
I decided to cut loose. Sadly, since it has been quite some time since I tried to do this, I failed miserably. It turns out that my "party animal" reflex is dead in the water, since the best thing I could think of to do was....(I'm so ashamed) paint the stair baseboards. I came to my senses halfway down the stairs (which will probably remain half painted now until my next weekend off...) called up a couple of people and made a break for it.
My sister came to pick me up, and we grabbed some people and headed for a place she said was fabulous. (Note: my sister and I are very different people.) An hour later I find myself in a piano bar eating gnocchi and trying to shake the feeling that I might have been better off painting the stairs. The other people in the bar include:
-a sixty year old woman with hair that would have been considered small in the eighties, she is wearing a silver catsuit and a belt with a buckle bigger than my head.
-a man with no teeth. Not one.
-an entire table of 50 year old white men accompanied by 20 year old Thai women. I tried not to figure out if they were prostitutes or mail order brides.
- a man who took my picture, called me "little girl" and asked me if I was going home alone. I have been trying very hard not to imagine what he wanted my picture for. I assure you I know what the possibilities are...and I don't want to think about it.
-an incredibly elegant gentleman and lady in their 80's who walzed around the 6 x 6 dance floor like a dream. During "Lady in Red" he kissed her.
-a waitress who spilled nine drinks, not at the same time.
-I will go to my grave saying that Eugene Levy was the performer. He was going by another name (I'm sure it was to keep crowds down) but I swear it was him. I especially loved it when he played "Sweet Caroline".
Today, in an attempt to disassociate myself from the leather padded piano bar, I'm going to do a little spinning. It is a well known fact that sitting at a spinning wheel is the cosmic opposite of being serenaded by Eugene Levy. I'm just seeking a little balance.
Now, I am not Sheila (who even looks like someone who could spin silk) who spins silk like this. I am a woman who barely escaped with her virtue from a piano bar, my results may vary. I'm going to card together the wool and silk and see if I have better luck than with pure silk, which makes me want to spin a noose. Silk is not my best thing, (fine...I suck at it) and I know that I'm pushing my luck trying something challenging so soon after the "Entre-lack" epsisode. If the silk proves embarrassing, I'm going to return to my spinning project in progress, which I will dazzle you with tomorrow in an attempt to erase your memory of not one, but two failed projects.
Finally, if you live in the Toronto area I would like to personally apologize for the weather this weekend. It was my fault, I got a little excited and optimistic about the sunshine and the warmness on Friday and I ....(I'm so sorry about this) I turned off my furnace.
I know that it was this action which caused the rain and plummeting temperatures, and I apologize. Rest assured that I will not attempt to turn my heat off again until June.