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Friday, June 20th, 2003Work has been conducted the last few weeks on a very stange, very disorienting one-day-on-one-day-off schedule. This, of course, is in order for Meaghan to have someone at home with her so that she can demand a glass of juice every hour on the hour or have someone to talk to besides the idiots on Jerry Springer. Usually, I spend these off-days entirely in my jammies, knitting socks (my masterplan is to never have cold feet again, and the best way to do that is to have socks made of soft, squishy wool) and watching hours of beautiful tv (Band of Brothers in dvd form! huzzah!). Also, usually, I end the day feeling empty and depressed, as I have just wasted an entire day of my youth that I will never get back and for which I have nothing to show (other than a sock, of course). But yesterday was a day of triumph! This isn't to say that I got out of my jammies or showered or did anything productive like laundry, because I sure didn't. What it is to say it that, through dumb luck, found out about the 10:00 sale of Blur tickets, located my credit card, called Jessa's answering machine and then purchased said tickets at exactly 10:07 am. Oh, it was such a rush. Now, finally, I have something concerty to look forward to in the coming weeks. I am the queen of the scene! Uh, I think there was another triumph yesterday, but I'll be damned if I can remember what it was. In any event it couldn't compare to the Blur tickets. Seeing Blur has been a dream of mine since Grade 9. I am overjoyed. No, wait, I remember now. My second triumph was using the new blender I bought my dad for father's day to make fruit smoothies for the sibling and me. They were very good, though I now understand why places like Booster Juice and the like charge so much for their drinks. Fruit is bloody expensive. One passionfruit? $6! Ah! It has become apparent to me at this point that I didn't really want to write an entry today. What I really wanted was for someone to get insanely jealous of my Blur tickets, to send me an envious email, to call me up and be like, "Hey! Oh! My! God! Can I come with you?" And then I would look you up and down with disdain,and be like, "Well, sure, I guess. But you have to find your own ticket, and I'll drive you and all but you're paying for the gas and parking." And then you'd be all, "Oh, sure, sure, whatever, anything to be with you and to see Blur." And I'd be cool and a little snobbish to you until you left and then I'd turn to Jessa and say, "Sweet. Free parking. We'll lose the kid after the opener. Don't worry." Also, I wanted to write because of silly little Caroline and her summer course blues. Why, Carrot, why did you take a summer course? Don't you know only people who fail classes or change their majors in second year do that? You didn't need a summer course, Carrot. You know what you're doing and where you're going. Why not just come home and let me take you to Kensington every weekend and buy you lollipops from street vendors? Why did you have to stay in Montreal and deprive me of your sweet self? Why?
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