Since the last time I wrote, in order:
- My PIC had his stag. For the first time ever *HE* comes home at dawn hammered, takes off his pants and tells me that there are pictures. He has tried tequila for the first time in his life. I am both horrified and titillated. He proceeds to wake up 6 hours later and throws up for the remainder of the day.
- I've done multiple shots off the chests of multiple girlfriends. The unspoken true joy of a stagette is a good ol' fashioned homo-erotic gong show with a girls best friends. The night was a blur but the sheer commitment for me to continue drinking kegs of Tequila really made my night. My last memory is getting in a cab at 8:00am and going home to my newly recovered PIC.
- I participated in the Relay for Life where my team was the third highest fundraiser at the event! The true joy was that there was a team there from the Toronto Downtown Knit Collective they had extra yarn and needles so I got to knit a bit with them when I was on break. I love making new friends and am very excited about getting back on the knit wagon.
- I've lost 2.4 lbs thereby stemming the flow of pre wedding weight gain - praise jebus. The f'ing dress is getting sausagelike, so extreme food control is imminent.
- We decided to get a small air conditioner. Jason has been waiting patiently for me to crack. This was decided this morning at 7:15 am when I started crying on the couch where I had been sleeping for the past 3 days. I cannot take it anymore, I generate heat by virtue of the *hendriks* metabolism already so having Mother Nature crank up the external heat is actually driving me insane. I'm not exaggerating.
- I got the following email from my Aunt Martha the hippest mother of three in the world, one of the best writers I know and a foodie extraordinaire:
Subject: Silas' bday party
was yesterday. We took 3 of his friends to the cottage.
Totally stressed and furious on Saturday. Felt it was absolutely necessary to clean the house despite the 30 degree heat. Matt and children helped. (The alternative would have been death.)
Sunday - Parents came and barely saw the clean house. Load the van with kids, food and head off. As we turn onto Balmer Rd....
Boy 1: Balmer Road!!! Bomb it Road. (many bombing sounds)
Boy 2: Not Bomb it! VOMIT!! I'M GONNA PUKE!! (this is evidently hilarious and is repeated for a very long time)
Arrive and kids go straight into the water. Quite successful, but the "play" starts to be "play fighting" and then is distinctly "fighting". Silas leaves the dock in tears.
On to lunch. Said boys are unable to sit at the table for more than a nanosecond. They grab the croquet balls and riff on that theme for a while. "My balls!", "Don't kick my balls!" repeated ad nauseum. Silas in tears again.
I thought his sensitive soul was perturbed by the conversation, but it turns out he had too many hot peppers on his burger.
I think they had fun. My left eye is still twitching.