So I've become a little freaked out by short women recently. I'm a little over average height, so I'm taller than most women I meet, but usually only by an inch or two or three.
I'm talking here about those women, the diminutive type, who I always mistake for children because that's who I assume comes up to my waist. But these are grown women! Some of them can't have broken 4'3"!
What's weird is there seems to be more of them than ever before! Didn't they drink milk as children?
I'm sure what has also set off the contrast is the fact that there are a lot of transsexuals and Amazons who come into my store. The Amazons, I'm sure, are part of some local volleyball or basketball team. But their average height is well over six feet. The transsexuals, of course, like to put on three-inch heels to add to their god-given man-height, so extremely tall women doesn't really faze me.
Nor, of course, do extremely tall men. Hanging out with the boys as often as I do, it weirds me out when I meet someone who is less than six feet tall. They just look weird to me, as I'm used to being dwarfed by men.
Now, with these women, I feel like a GIANT. It's a very peculiar feeling. Are women getting shorter again?
So, living with a boyfriend is awesome. In fact, the only thing weird about it is how weird it isn't.
Living with Greg, however, is a different story. It's not bad, don't get me wrong - it's just kind of ridiculous.
And I intend to keep you filled in on his exploits for the remainder of this year.
Tale #1
Tuesdays are my day off, and I generally spend them cleaning the apartment (someone's gotta do it, right?). So I'm puttering around, it's about 10 in the morning. Andy's already eaten and left for work. Greg gets up, and, not being a morning person, slowly goes about getting his breakfast. This means he gets down a bowl, gets distracted, does something else, then goes on with breakfast preparations.
I walk into the living room to find Greg sitting on the couch, leaning into his cereal bowl and scowling in consternation. He looks up at me and, in the most accusatory tone possible, asks me, "Did you put this SPOON in my bowl?"
My reply? "Um, NO."
I walk into the kitchen, and what do I see? Greg's shiny clean bowl sitting on the counter.
He had taken Andy's dirty bowl and spoon instead.
Tale #2
If you know Greg, this one is typical.
Greg goes out early in the morning, then to work, and then to an after-work party somewhere. When I call him at midnight to find out if he's still alive, he's drunk as a skunk and yelling.
When we question him the next morning to find out how he made it home, he reveals that a lady friend of his drove him home.
In itself, this doesn't sound like a big deal, right?
But this is Greg we're talking about.
So he reveals further that he arrived home at 2:00 AM, and the girl who was driving him home had to be at work at 7:00 AM. In addition, she lives in Barrhaven and Greg was the LAST person she dropped off. To top it off, this chick was attractive.
Do you think that perhaps this girl was hoping for an invite in? Perhaps to crash for the night, save herself a long drive back to work the next morning? Or perhaps she was looking for something more?
Perhaps.
But, being Greg, all he said was, "Thanks for the lift," and got out of the car. And that was it.
Oh, Greg.
Well?
I'm dirt poor.
Aaand, that's about it.
I totally had more to say but I've TOTALLY forgotten it.
I have Saturday (today) off work.
Alas, I had to wake up at 8 because we're getting an air conditioner installed as we speak. One that we won't have to use for the rest of the summer and that necessitates us moving all our furniture.
I've also been fighting off some kind of sinus infection doo-dad. I inhaled a lot of water this weekend and I suspect that has a lot to do with it. I've never had sinus problems before, so I feel pretty crappy and I'm not sure what to do about it. I get my advice from chronic sufferers like Lisa and Andy.
Other than that, I'm looking forward to witnessing history in the making with the Island Park Bridge project. You can watch it online here.
Animations and details available here.
So because my boss is trying to establish a form of consistency with the staff schedule, I am now enjoying the second of my two regular days off, even though I took the last five off to go camping. So I haven't worked since last Wednesday. No paycheque this week, but that's irrelevant.
So I finally (FINALLY!) put up the pictures of the apartment in its current state. That means, Chel, that you can calm the fuck down.
Greg has officially moved in, now, so the Italian Place has its full complement of residents. Our landlords are on vacation so the devil children aren't here at 7 every morning. And Travis and Matt have moved in three blocks from us - it's like an episode of Friends.
And there are camping pictures up, as well. I am so fucking tanned it's awesome.
Today - I hem curtains. I love my life.