one stop shop

Currently in my dark windowless room listening to my roommate have sex with her boyfriend. I've given up on being mad over this. I happen to reside in a home that was not built on the architectural principal of noise prevention. Thus, I am forced to sit in on the sexual escapades happening on the other side of the wall... not to mention months and months of having my sleep constantly thrown into confusion, my privacy inadvertently invaded and I myself inadvertently invading the privacy of others. The good news is I am moving out very soon into an air conditioned apartment in a high rise for 1 month. My room will be quite barren for said month as I am not bringing any furniture with me... but this is the price I pay to reside in 3 different cities in less than 1 year. BARRENNESS! Oct 1 should hopefully find me in a better place with something more permanent but for now I flap in the wind.

I was lucky to have been invited to a very fancy-schmancy dinner party Friday night that I myself could never co-ordinate even if spoon fed instructions as clear as paint by numbers. I simply lack the desire to entertain large amounts of people. My friend, however, is moving to New York (ouch!... tiny stab to the gut) not to mention turning the ripe old age of 23 so this called for celebration! Her parents were kind enough to lend their home to us and what a home it was. Winding staircases, contemporary art... SAUNAS. The home I grew up in would have looked like the storage garage had it have been built adjacent. But thats not the point of my story. It's the journey TO the dinner party that stands out most for me. It begins with my menstrual cycle (ew, did she say menstrual cycle?). Being forcefully attacked by PMS I stressed out about what to wear to this dinner party because honestly I have been putting my wardrobe by the boards as of late and own nothing all that pleasing to the eye. My eye anyways... which is all that matters! This being said I took a stroll down queen street and bought myself an outfit. Its quite cute (had to chop off my left arm and leg for it, but I always wanted to ride in an electric wheel chair so it balanced out. Plus I can ride in a cute outfit ). I ran home, peeled myself out of my daily attire consisting of ripped jeans and a t-shirt, morphed into someone who looks like she has a remote sense of style then flew out the door. Once I finally made it to the TTC I got on northbound and had to stand for the first few minutes... a seat finally freed up beside an elderly gentleman so I shoved some people in the abdoman, karate chopped a blind man and launched myself into the seat before anyone else could. Within seconds the man turned to me in his kind raspy broken and old sounding voice and said "I would like to compliment you on your outfit, where most women these days parade around in ripped jeans and a t-shirt, you actually took the time to apply some style.) I of course just acted as though dressing that well was a daily occurrence all the while laughing in my head. He continued to talk and eventually delivered some useful information. Two pieces of sound advice I will now pass on from a man pushing 90 and on his way home from the gym. 1. "never lose the boy or girl in you" 2. "Live in the moment, forget what may exist in an hour or a week from now, rather, enjoy the small moments as they come". AMEN! I replied. Though I have not the slightest interest in religion... it just sounded agreeing. He then spoke of his career as a writer and his published works etc then ran off quickly in order not to miss his stop. He waved me off as my train slowly drove away and I smiled at both the pleasure in meeting him and the satisfaction of having purchased something actually nice. The women who stabbed ribs to get his seat started talking to me as well and thats when I knew I had to go shopping more often!