Bus karma revisited

Stepped out my door this morning to see the bus stopping at the stop to the left of my apartment. This usually means that if I run, I can catch it at the stop to my right. I hiked up my skirts, clutched the paper more firmly in one hand, dodged around a couple of meandering pedestrians, and galloped.

The owner of the Claremont was standing outside as he normally is around that time of the morning -- he called out "Traffic's on your side!" Couldn't do more than grin at him as I raced past, but he was right, I caught the bus.

It's these little urban moments I enjoy...

Arrrr!

Your pirate name is:

Captain Morgan Read

Even though there's no legal rank on a pirate ship, everyone recognizes you're the one in charge. Even through many pirates have a reputation for not being the brightest souls on earth, you defy the sterotypes. You've got taste and education. Arr!

What's your pirate name?

(borrowed from officialgaiman -- there are pirates all over the place these days...)

Triumph!

I wandered through the Bay getting crabbier and crabbier about the current fashion in jeans, and freaked out by the usual prices, and more and more mystified by the karaoke apparently going on in some corner of the building.

Then I went to Cohoes* and bought a nondescript pair of navy stretch "jeans" (they're not denim, but they're jean-cut and comfy) for $12 plus tax. Then I went and bought a new bra as a follow-up (so much for austerity, but it's not like I have much of a choice). These are two of my top three most-loathed shopping targets, so I'm no longer embittered. Actually I'm pretty pleased. Next step, boots!

Incidentally, I believe them when they tell me it's 95% humidity. Blech.

*like Winners, only smaller and with more polyester

more about jeans

I forgot to mention that I tried on a pair of size 4 ultra-low-rise stretch jeans in Cohoes and they fit. As in, I could actually get them on and fasten them, and didn't look notably worse than any other woman wandering around in pants that end four inches below her navel and one inch above her bikini line (which is half the female population of Montreal some days).

I nearly bought them just for the amusement factor, but fortunately sanity prevailed. I mean, I'd've had to buy all kinds of new underwear.

The point, though, such as it is, is: is it any wonder a lot of women's body image is screwed up when we never know if we're going to be a size 4 or a size 12?

(Hah. That was a reasonably coherent and grammatical sentence with the same word repeated 3 times. OK, posting now.)

and finally, a public service announcement

For those (like me) who were wondering, crankygrrl is alive and well and back in Toronto.

And she says she was NOT drunk Saturday (?) night, and nobody believes her, but she's just like that when she's sober too.

As a friend of long standing, I can attest that this is in fact perfectly true, although of course I was not there to witness anything...

fractured fairy talage from kendokamel

They could use a little copy editing, but this here is some inspired silliness.

FAIRY TALE

nce upon a time there has a young BULLFIGHTER named VICTOR. He was LOUDLY HARBOURING in the SQUASHED forest when he met PUCE JUAN, a run-away STENOGRAPHER from the RELUCTANT Queen ALICIA.

VICTOR could see that PUCE JUAN was hungry so he reached into his THERMOS FLASK and give him his ANXIETY-RIDDEN WATERMELON. PUCE JUAN was thankful for VICTOR's WATERMELON, so he told VICTOR a very THREADBARE story about Queen ALICIA's daughter MELANIE. How her mother, the RELUCTANT Queen ALICIA, kept her locked away in a WOODSHED protected by a gigantic PANDA, because MELANIE was so BULBOUS.

VICTOR WAILED. He vowed to PUCE JUAN the STENOGRAPHER that he would save the BULBOUS MELANIE. He would FLIP the PANDA, and take MELANIE far away from her eveil mother, the RELUCTANT Queen ALICIA, and CUDDLE her.

Then, all of the sudden, there was a FUZZY HAILSTORM and PUCE JUAN the STENOGRAPHER began to laugh. With a puff of smoke he turned into the gigantic PANDA from his story. RELUCTANT Queen ALICIA STOMPED out from behind a SHOELACE and struck VICTOR dead. In the far off WOODSHED you could hear a HONK.

THE END.

Make your own Fairy Tale at fuali.com

OK, I'm done... I think.