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july 27, 2000. "And if you have 5 seconds to spare, then I'll tell you the story of my life..."
It's amazing how exhausting my summer vacation is turning out. Last night I dreaded the idea of one more morning doing "essential things" so badly that I couldn't speak for sobbing. It's amazing how desolate everything seems when you're bone-tired. 9 hours of sleep and I was ready to rock once more.
Today my mother & I battled road construction and sweltering heat in the downtown core. We accomplished a few more things on the list, but I can't say it was a terribly successful trip. I did, however, get another Groovy Girl as a way of thanking Sydney for being in my wedding. Her name is Jacinda.
Yes, I'm becoming one of those women. Send alcohol.
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A few weeks ago, a friend of my mothers hosted a kitchen accessories party. I went along for the ride, as this woman was more than graciously allowing me to use her hostess discount for the night's purchases. That's pretty sweet, you know. Anyhoo, by some odd coincidence, this lady lives fairly close to both my old highschool and to some people with whom I attended highschool. At some point in the evening, an old acquaintance of mine named Sarah H. walked in, was pretty surprised to see me, and began a happy conversation about life. She, of course, had heard about the wedding, and was quite excited to hear of the details, especially when I told her that I still lack shoes. "I'm the queen of shoes!" she said, and she promised to take me shopping.
Well. For the last month or so, I've had her name written in my little mental to do list. "Call Sarah H. re: shoes." Have I called? No. Were my intentions good? Perhaps. Be that as it may, it was only as I was dialing the number tonight (I had to look it up in my yearbook, can you beat that!), that I realized that she was probably just being polite. Why on earth would she really want to take me shoe shopping? But the great thing about Sarah is that you can take her words at face value, just like in highschool when none of us knew the meaning of meaningless phrases.
We've set Monday night as the tentative launch date of Operation Shoe. More details as they develop.
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Why the housing market in Toronto is insane:
The boys put up an ad for their leaky, noisy apartment yesterday. By this afternoon, they had a renter. I couldn't believe it, but there it is. I think we should leave him a letter explaining the mysterious noises emanating from upstairs so he doesn't have to do all the sleuthing himself. Then again, lots of people have a nasty habit of treating prostitutes like garbage instead of humans, so maybe that isn't the greatest idea. I just don't know anymore.
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5 second entry, then.