Tonight Jess and I decided to go and buy fabric for our Thursday night sewing class. The closest place that sells sewing patterns is Fabricland, which is at Dufferin and Orfus Road. To those who don't get how far that is: IT'S GODDAMN FAR. We got on the Dufferin bus and figured it would be a ten minute bus ride, but then we got to bitching about work and thought we had missed the stop because we were heckling like a couple of old ladies. We work together so as a rule we are not allowed to talk about work on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. Tuesdays and Thursdays are okay to spew forth the vile demon inside that sucks out my soul.
So Jess pulls out her iPhone (I KNOW RIGHT!!!!??? Jess with a cell phone...makes mama proud) and checks to make sure that we have not missed our stop and we haven't. Phew. We are pretty much out in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I can hear crickets; it's like being in outer space. We find Fabricland easily enough and when we walk in the doors people, it's like I have come HOME. The only other things that make me this comfortable are sticking kleenex down my sleeve and making sure that people eat. Did I mention that I spent my Saturday night sewing a pillow, drinking tea and watching Bring It On? Also, I found myself muttering to the television, scolding the girls in the movie for being too swinging with their sexuality.
For real though, I am in heaven at Fabricland. The older lady who cut my bolt of fabric thought it was cool that I am sewing. She said that sewing is a dying skill and anyone who knows how to thread a needle will be alright. And I am all 'I KNOW RIGHT!!!??' and she probably thinks I am on crack I am smiling so hard.
We peruse and buy what we need and leave. Easy. Except that now I am starving. For those who don't know me well, here is where alarm bells should be going off. When I am hungry, the world goes wrong. Because I make it so. I am slightly hypoglycemic and my blood pressure goes from fine to not fine in a very short amount of time. Why don't I carry something with me to munch on in cases like this you ask? Well that would require planning and I don't know how to do that. Thankfully I can keep the monster inside of me in check and no one had their heads torn off in the process.
Once I get home I believe that it would make me feel better to down a glass of wine and a beer while dinner is cooking. So in about ten minutes I go from being sober and hungry to empty-stomached and drunk. Not to mention that I have been sick for the past week, and today is the first day I feel sort of normal. Not a good time to not eat and drink alcohol. But I survive. I even manage to cook for the cats, myself and Dave, and make baked apples for desert.
The best part of the night though was when I kept trying to jump onto Dave. Picture a tiny cramped kitchen, no room to breathe, never mind jump, and me drunkenly trying to climb my boyfriend. And Dave, in all seriousness, telling me that I am a grown up and grown ups don't do that. And then both of us laughing hard enough to wake the other geriatrics in the old folk's home.
Sigh. Life is sweet. But not too sweet. It is advised against when you have dentures.
