The nutritional value of plastic bags
This weekend certainly had its ups and downs. I had dinner with Paola on Friday night, then Michael and I watched Friends with Money, which I enjoyed. On the downside my aunt was very sick and needed to go to the hospital on Sunday. Her timing was impeccable: we arrived shortly before the Jack Ass wannabes in various stages of dismemberment did, which is always good. You just know that there's a severed finger in that bag of ice. I visited her while she was waiting for her test results, but none of the doctors looked like McDreamy. One of them did look like Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite though. Vote for Pedro.
On a happier note, an old childhood friend of Michael's was in town, so we met up with him for dinner. He works for the federal government, but so far his ethical and moral values have not been irreparably damaged. We tested him by saying "you voted for Harper too, right?" to which he started to laugh and then became fearful, wondering if we being sincere when we said that we had contributed to Bush Lite's ascension to power. We assured him we were merely joking, and that in actuality we had voted for the Communist Party, and I adjusted the my green beret with the red star on it. Fidel is doing well, thank you.
We had dinner at the Mill Bistro in Coal Harbour, where our waiter gave an inordinate amount of attention to my two male companions. Michael didn't seem to question that the waiter spent close to a minute arranging Michael's napkin in his lap. I would've said something, but was engrossed with the drinks menu. I quite enjoyed the Wild Horse Canyon Cabernet Merlot. The fun thing about going out with Michael's friends and family is that he attempts to be chivalrous and pay. Just one more reason to quaff three glasses of wine. If there had been steak on the menu, this girl would have been a voracious carnivore.
Our conversation was fun, turning to attempts at healthy eating and exercising. Apparently at one point Michael's friend was biking 30km to and from work. What a dingus. I told him he could get around that whole exertion thing by buying an SUV, preferably one of those mini-Hummers, or possible a Ford Excursion. You could just drive right over those ridiculous Smart cars if they cut you off. I understand that when you purchase an "environmentally challenged" vehicle these days, you have to send a sympathy card to the two soldiers most recently killed in Iraq, that fought so valiantly for your right to drive it.
Michael and I professed that we would like to attempt a full marathon next year. It's crazy the things you say on your second glass of wine. I just know I'm going to wake up with a throbbing head one morning to find out that, instead of drunk dialing old boyfriends (which I do a LOT, to see if any of them have become doctors yet), I instead inebriatedly registered myself for the Iron Man.
We also discussed the environment, and admitted we had yet to see An Inconvenient Truth out of fear that it would be a tremendous downer. Apparently we have only to walk along our very waterfront to find dead seals, though surely the cause of their untimely expiration was not pollution, but rather the well known fact that seals have an insatiable desire to consume plastic bags. Plastic bags, the scourge of the sea; flitting, ghostlike through the swells of the ocean, breeding like rabbits and providing little nutritional value to mammals that fight and swim so hard to catch them. Tasty morsels of the Safeway and Save On variety. The seals really ought to try hummus.
We ended our weekend with a walk over to Dunbar, so that I could reminisce in front of the house I once lived at, 25 years ago. I swear, when I closed my eyes I could hear the sound of the kids playing in the park at the end of the street, the ice cream truck making its rounds, and someone saying "Geraldine, that weird girl is standing in front of our house with her eyes closed again! Shall we call the police?" followed by "No Larry, let's just turn on the hose like last time".
On a happier note, an old childhood friend of Michael's was in town, so we met up with him for dinner. He works for the federal government, but so far his ethical and moral values have not been irreparably damaged. We tested him by saying "you voted for Harper too, right?" to which he started to laugh and then became fearful, wondering if we being sincere when we said that we had contributed to Bush Lite's ascension to power. We assured him we were merely joking, and that in actuality we had voted for the Communist Party, and I adjusted the my green beret with the red star on it. Fidel is doing well, thank you.
We had dinner at the Mill Bistro in Coal Harbour, where our waiter gave an inordinate amount of attention to my two male companions. Michael didn't seem to question that the waiter spent close to a minute arranging Michael's napkin in his lap. I would've said something, but was engrossed with the drinks menu. I quite enjoyed the Wild Horse Canyon Cabernet Merlot. The fun thing about going out with Michael's friends and family is that he attempts to be chivalrous and pay. Just one more reason to quaff three glasses of wine. If there had been steak on the menu, this girl would have been a voracious carnivore.
Our conversation was fun, turning to attempts at healthy eating and exercising. Apparently at one point Michael's friend was biking 30km to and from work. What a dingus. I told him he could get around that whole exertion thing by buying an SUV, preferably one of those mini-Hummers, or possible a Ford Excursion. You could just drive right over those ridiculous Smart cars if they cut you off. I understand that when you purchase an "environmentally challenged" vehicle these days, you have to send a sympathy card to the two soldiers most recently killed in Iraq, that fought so valiantly for your right to drive it.
Michael and I professed that we would like to attempt a full marathon next year. It's crazy the things you say on your second glass of wine. I just know I'm going to wake up with a throbbing head one morning to find out that, instead of drunk dialing old boyfriends (which I do a LOT, to see if any of them have become doctors yet), I instead inebriatedly registered myself for the Iron Man.
We also discussed the environment, and admitted we had yet to see An Inconvenient Truth out of fear that it would be a tremendous downer. Apparently we have only to walk along our very waterfront to find dead seals, though surely the cause of their untimely expiration was not pollution, but rather the well known fact that seals have an insatiable desire to consume plastic bags. Plastic bags, the scourge of the sea; flitting, ghostlike through the swells of the ocean, breeding like rabbits and providing little nutritional value to mammals that fight and swim so hard to catch them. Tasty morsels of the Safeway and Save On variety. The seals really ought to try hummus.
We ended our weekend with a walk over to Dunbar, so that I could reminisce in front of the house I once lived at, 25 years ago. I swear, when I closed my eyes I could hear the sound of the kids playing in the park at the end of the street, the ice cream truck making its rounds, and someone saying "Geraldine, that weird girl is standing in front of our house with her eyes closed again! Shall we call the police?" followed by "No Larry, let's just turn on the hose like last time".
posted by Duder at 12:14 PM
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