Saturday, May 26, 2007

Back to normal (well, as normal as it gets).

I've been trying to deal with the ever-changing weather graciously, because as someone that was born and raised in Calgary, I should be used to this shit by now.
I wouldn't mind snow or rain at all, so long as it stayed warm the entire time. One reason: coats. I'm not talking about jackets, which I actually kinda miss sometimes in the summers because a lot of jackets are so fucking adorable (including Alana's 76ers jacket that was stolen last night. If you see it around, punch the bitch that stole it, and take it back). I'm talking about the bulky-ass parkas that people in this city wear around, and take up entirely too much space everywhere.... They really get in the way of life.

For example, I really don't mind my commute to and from work, despite the fact that it's painfully long. I usually spend the time trying to figure out how to incorporate the word "shawty" into my vocabulary without sounding like a retard, listening to the kid infront of me bump the same Joe Budden jam over and over, or documenting my thoughts in my "moleskine notebook", which is what I call my chunk of liquor store receipts that I stapled together and write on (mostly stuff that's demeaning to either myself or others). No big thing, right? The only thing I ask for is a little personal space. However, when everyone is wearing a huge coat, the chances of me having to feel the heat radiate off of someone's ass are very likely, and that can be more distracting and annoying than you could ever imagine.

This is why I'm so, so stoked for the weather to get warm and stay warm. Let's do this, Calgary!

~sarah p.

p.s. You know what's the most amusing part of being downtown in the mornings? Those free paper guys that fight to give you one every single time you walk past. You know the ones I'm talking about... The people that wear smocks and look like crack addicts or ESL students that try to force you to read free daily papers ever morning. I like to pretend that they're fighting over my affections, and I walk by every morning, waving my hand and giggling to myself, saying "Whoa. There's enough of me to go around, boys". It's nice to pretend sometimes, isn't it?

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