Hygeine

Good morning world!

I write today from my couch, as opposed to my desk at work, due to suffering from food poisoning after FINALLY making a huge batch of chocolate pudding I've been craving.

Pudding, never does anyone any good.

NOW, lets reminisce about going to a birthday party at a bar this weekend; the same bar holding parties for a stag, and an irish rugby team.

SHENANIGANS ENSUE, of course.

HB and I try our damndest to fend off people gettin' creepy on us, its a full time job.

One man is wearing a large blue corduroy house coat and a blonde wig, he's doing magic card tricks for me. Another man is probably a foot shorter than HB and trying to give her a drunken lap dance. Just another day in the life...

At one point I go to the bar to get myself a water, because YES I WAS NOT DRINKING.

Waiting for the bar tender to take my order, I hear a voice to my right say "Did you put perfume in your hair?"

WHAT?

I'm a little weirded out and turn my head to see a greasy, creepy guy looking me in the eye.

"No.. why?" I say.

"It smells really nice," says Greasy-Guy.

OH? Did I give you permission to smell my hair?

"Thanks," I say, and turn my head towards the bar tender for a moment, before looking back at Greasy-Guy and say, "I washed it for the first time this month today."

Accordingly, G.G. stops paying attention to me at that very moment.

Larissa's charm levels: Still at maximum power.

Colloquialisms in 3D!

Colloquialisms.

Now that is a god damn good word.

I use it every so often, maybe 4 - 5 times a month.

One colloquialism I enjoy using is "Beggars can't be choosers." I often use it when someone asks me if they can borrow a pen, and I give them scissors instead, and they get all upset.

Hey man, beggars can't be choosers.

Imagine this:

HB and I decide to hit up our faaaaavourite go-to, O'Byrnes, for some 35cent wing night. Its moderately cold outside so obviously we sit on the patio because we are true Albertans.

We sit ourselves down on the edge of the patio right by the sidewalk, and enjoy our food over a rip-roaring conversation about how OUTSTANDINGLY AWESOME the new version of Blackberry Messenger is.

Its like going from Windows Messenger to MSN VERSION 7!

Ah-mazing.

Inbetween bites of food and tech-talk, I guess the local bum-folk have decided to rummage around, and a panhandlin' man pokes his head through the patio fence to ask us for money.

He says something along the lines of "Hey ladies can I have a 5 dollar bill?"

(BILL? THIS AIN'T VEGAS, BABY.)

Naturally HB stays cool and collected and I scream because I am the jumpiest person in this city.

I tell the guy I have no money. C'mon.

Because Heather has a heart she offers the guy a toonie and a loonie.

"I'd really rather have 6 dollars for a pizza sub from Subway" says the hobo.

"This is all I have," says Heather.

"Don't you have 3 toonies?"

"This is all I have."

"What about another 2 dollars?"

"This is all. I. Have." says HB.

ARE YOU SERIOUSLY bargaining with us, crazyman?

Finally he pisses off. It took everything I had not to yell "BEGGARS CAN'T BE CHOOSERS" because it would have been so perfect.

We resume eating our food, as HB grumbles:

"He could have gotten half a pizza sub for $3.75."

Beggin' ain't about profit. What a SWINDLER.

I mean, in a pinch... just get some ketchup.

Mountain Moments

Good morning world! (Good afternoon?)
I'm back from a delightful trip to the mountains this weekend with Kylie and Brendan and Co., and enjoying getting back to work as the resident scapegoat at this lawfirm for all the angry clients.

NOT.

To distract from my day being about a 3/10 though, here are two notable stories from my adventures:

STORY NUMBER ONE:
This is a short story that involves re-injuring my injured thumb (see 2 blog entries ago.)
I've been taking good care of my injured digit, and while I still can't quite open up a bottle or turn on the bath taps propertly, I'd say we're healing up just fine.
But you know meee....
While engaging in some pre-bar drinking at our hotel room, we all decided to watch FOOTLOOSE on the tiny provided television set. I had seated myelf on the window sill to see the nightlife outside and naturally got excited by the dance sequences. I can't help it!
CUE: COPYING THE MOVIE.
Kevin Bacon is just RIPPIN' through the forest, dancing in the barn, carthwheels, hand gestures! I'm immitating it all in the window, surely looking like some sort of poor, red-light-district window dancer to the world below.

Obviously its not a career choice for myself.
I feel I'm being moderately entertaining though, until good ole K. Bacon throws his hands back, and keeping in stride, I do as well, swiftly ramming my fists into the side of the wall re-injuring my thumb. Lovely.

STORY TWO:
After a night of dancing at the Hoodoo lounge below our hotel, which was preceeded by a short conversation between Brendan's friend and I:

"So where are we going?" "Hoodoo." "You do..." ".... Do what?" "Remind me of the babe?" "YES, THAT WAS A TEST AND YOU PASSED!"

Obviously one of my favourite movie references.



ANYWAY,

Beligerently yours, we exit the bar and two men engage me in a conversation about how "the best guitarist in western Canada" is staying at their hotel, in the penthouse suite.

OH?

I look sternly at them as Kylie and Brendan watch from a distance, and say "Are you trying to invite me to your hotel room?"
I AIN'T NO FOOL!
Guy #1 decides that in order to break down my angry barriers he'll dance with me, grabs my hands, and starts humming some unknown song.
We start doing a little mountain jig, I suppose, but 20 seconds in he stops humming, but continues to try and dance with me.

Excuse me? That shit don't fly.
Cue stern look #2, and I say to him "Keep humming."
"What?" he says, perhaps I'm being too pushy?
"Keep humming, damnit! You don't just start dancing with me and then stop humming!"

Mid-sentence Brendan decides its time to go and him and Kylie grab/drag me away from them.

"But what about our hotel room!" the guy yells back at me. Brendan continues to escort me away. I point at him with elegance that can only be compared to to Buddy Jesus from Dogma.

"PENHOUSE SUITE, RIGHT? I'll be there buddy! I'll be thereeeeee!"

Words of Wisdom from Larissa

I have nothing good to write about today so I'm gonna post a few "facebook chat gold moments" (which, to be honest, are really just things that I say to other people that I think are funny, because I'm very self absorbed,) and an unrelated photo.

Back to basics!

Larissa on... Pregnancy:

Pregnancy is like a gumball machine. Its exciting to see what you get but the flavour wears off fast.

Larissa on... Instant messenger etiquette:

You know what I fuckin' hate?

When people type "haha lol"

Nothing is that god damn funny.

And finally:

Picky picky!

Lesson Learned

Dear Diary:

Thursday I went out with KERRTALK, and we got some bubbletea to feel cultured.

Naturally I decided to push the limits and order an avocado smoothie; which admittedly was pretty decent tasting until it got warm. Not so much...

Anyway, turns out I'm not only rowdy when I'm drinking (I AM NOT AN ALCOHOLIC OKAY,) I'm actually just always rowdy.

I'm sure taking kickboxing doesn't help.

On the drive home, somehow Kenny and I (or just me?) decide that it would be a good idea for me to punch Kenny in the arm to prove I'm gaining strength from my classes.

Scene:

Kenny parks the car outside my house.

Larissa says: So we doing this or what?

Kenny nods.

We both get out of the car.

LARISSA ASSUMES KICKBOXING STANCE, TAKES A COUPLE TEST SHOTS, AND THROWS HER PUNCH.

Kenny stands stoic.

I recoil my hand and go "OW OW OW OW WHAT THE HELL" and grab my hand.

I've done something to my thumb.

(And no, for all the smarmy bastards that are asking "Well did you have your thumb inside your fist?" I did not. I at least know how to make a proper fist.)

Do you know how hard it is to put on jeans, with one hand, with your non-dominant hand?

Do you know how shameful it is buying a bottle of wine the next day, with one bandaged up hand, telling the cashier you hurt it kickboxing (since you don't wanna sound like a completely crazy bitch,) and then you can't get your debit card out of your wallet with your gimp hand, so the cashier offers to help, and you say I GOT THIS.

Do you?

I hope this shit heals. Kenny's shoulder: 1, Larissa: 0.