Thursday's Child
Welcome once again to Boob Week, the week where I lay bare my soul and share with the world (okay, four people) my most embarrassing moments. Today we've got a two-fer special, as I had two little embarrassments that didn't seem big enough for their own days.
The Smell of Victory
A few years ago we were having trouble with cats using our deck as a restroom. There is nothing more unpleasant than going to sit out in your backyard to relax and having to smell the effluvia of the neighbourhood feline population, so we all did what we could to discourage this behaviour.
My one roommate tried everything she could think of: mothballs, bleach, vinegar, black pepper. And all three of us did our part by running over to the glass doors and banging on them like crazy ladies any time we saw a cat on our deck. However, Parkdale cats are a hardy bunch and nothing seemed to work. It was driving us crazy.
One day I got an idea to mix a bunch of our remedies together to see if that would work. The whole time I mixed the bleach, vinegar, black pepper etc. together I cackled maniacally to myself. "Stupid cats! We'll see who has the last laugh! You see these? Opposable thumbs, assholes! Prepare to meet your match!" I had finished putting my concoction together and wanted to see if it was potent enough. I put my head in the bucket and took a deep breath.
About ten minutes later, after my eyes and nose stopped burning and my coughing finally petered out it occurred to me that perhaps I wasn't the intellectual match for a bunch of shitting cats as I thought I was.
(And no, my mixture did not deter the little jerks one little bit.)
Love Conquers All
We've all been there. The beginning of a relationship is a special time, filled with trepidation, nervous excitment, and plenty of booze. One puts one's best foot forward and tries to project the best image of oneself possible (that is until you are sure you've hooked the other person, and then you can let them see the real you).
Accordingly, a lot of people tend to have a grace period when they are with their new special someone that encompasses the need to conceal bodily functions or noises. Even though everyone knows we all do these little things, one puts forth a special effort in the name of Love. It was perhaps not the smartest thing for me to do, then, to invite my new boyfriend during this still-delicate time to our annual May 2-4 weekend.
May 2-4 weekend (aka Victoria Day weekend) is the first kind of good weather weekend in Canada, and we greet it every year with as much joy, celebration and ceremony as ancient peoples must have greeted their alien overlords when they came to build their pyramids for them. May 2-4 is that special time of year that includes barbecues, firepits, blindingly white skin, chili, board games, beer and old friends. In short, it's a powderkeg waiting to go off.
My roommate's boyfriend and I have a special relationship, one of mock animosity. Indeed, we all like to try to insult each other when we can and we all enjoy a good burn at each other's expense. It does tend toward the juvenile, however, and we've known each other long enough that bodily functions have become part of the mix (unfortunately).
We had been at the cottage for a couple of days already and it had gone well. We all had a lot of fun and the bf fit in with the gang perfectly. He had even picked up on the insult thing and had gotten in a few good ones of his own. I was starting to feel more comfortable. A bit too comfortable, in fact. The roommate's boyfriend had started to rib me again and I had this witty comback for him: "Oh yeah? You know what I think of that? *Baaaaaarrrruuuuuuuuuppptt!!*
After the enormous belch died away and the windows finished rattling there was a deathly moment of silence where I had realized the enormity of the thing I had done. Never before have I broken that particular taboo in a relationship so spectacularly. I buried my face in my hands and proceeded to turn the colour of a well-done lobster as my friends literally fell off their chairs laughing at me. After about a half an hour the laughter died away and I found that I could actually look my boyfriend in the face again.
It's been one full year now and he has still hung around and put up with a lot worse from me and my friends. But now that he's one of the gang, I shudder to think what will happen this May 2-4.
Welcome once again to Boob Week, the week where I lay bare my soul and share with the world (okay, four people) my most embarrassing moments. Today we've got a two-fer special, as I had two little embarrassments that didn't seem big enough for their own days.
The Smell of Victory
A few years ago we were having trouble with cats using our deck as a restroom. There is nothing more unpleasant than going to sit out in your backyard to relax and having to smell the effluvia of the neighbourhood feline population, so we all did what we could to discourage this behaviour.
My one roommate tried everything she could think of: mothballs, bleach, vinegar, black pepper. And all three of us did our part by running over to the glass doors and banging on them like crazy ladies any time we saw a cat on our deck. However, Parkdale cats are a hardy bunch and nothing seemed to work. It was driving us crazy.
One day I got an idea to mix a bunch of our remedies together to see if that would work. The whole time I mixed the bleach, vinegar, black pepper etc. together I cackled maniacally to myself. "Stupid cats! We'll see who has the last laugh! You see these? Opposable thumbs, assholes! Prepare to meet your match!" I had finished putting my concoction together and wanted to see if it was potent enough. I put my head in the bucket and took a deep breath.
About ten minutes later, after my eyes and nose stopped burning and my coughing finally petered out it occurred to me that perhaps I wasn't the intellectual match for a bunch of shitting cats as I thought I was.
(And no, my mixture did not deter the little jerks one little bit.)
Love Conquers All
We've all been there. The beginning of a relationship is a special time, filled with trepidation, nervous excitment, and plenty of booze. One puts one's best foot forward and tries to project the best image of oneself possible (that is until you are sure you've hooked the other person, and then you can let them see the real you).
Accordingly, a lot of people tend to have a grace period when they are with their new special someone that encompasses the need to conceal bodily functions or noises. Even though everyone knows we all do these little things, one puts forth a special effort in the name of Love. It was perhaps not the smartest thing for me to do, then, to invite my new boyfriend during this still-delicate time to our annual May 2-4 weekend.
May 2-4 weekend (aka Victoria Day weekend) is the first kind of good weather weekend in Canada, and we greet it every year with as much joy, celebration and ceremony as ancient peoples must have greeted their alien overlords when they came to build their pyramids for them. May 2-4 is that special time of year that includes barbecues, firepits, blindingly white skin, chili, board games, beer and old friends. In short, it's a powderkeg waiting to go off.
My roommate's boyfriend and I have a special relationship, one of mock animosity. Indeed, we all like to try to insult each other when we can and we all enjoy a good burn at each other's expense. It does tend toward the juvenile, however, and we've known each other long enough that bodily functions have become part of the mix (unfortunately).
We had been at the cottage for a couple of days already and it had gone well. We all had a lot of fun and the bf fit in with the gang perfectly. He had even picked up on the insult thing and had gotten in a few good ones of his own. I was starting to feel more comfortable. A bit too comfortable, in fact. The roommate's boyfriend had started to rib me again and I had this witty comback for him: "Oh yeah? You know what I think of that? *Baaaaaarrrruuuuuuuuuppptt!!*
After the enormous belch died away and the windows finished rattling there was a deathly moment of silence where I had realized the enormity of the thing I had done. Never before have I broken that particular taboo in a relationship so spectacularly. I buried my face in my hands and proceeded to turn the colour of a well-done lobster as my friends literally fell off their chairs laughing at me. After about a half an hour the laughter died away and I found that I could actually look my boyfriend in the face again.
It's been one full year now and he has still hung around and put up with a lot worse from me and my friends. But now that he's one of the gang, I shudder to think what will happen this May 2-4.
posted by Alanis at
10:01 AM
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