The Sex and the City Weekend

Part 1. The red ones or the green ones?

After hearing about it from a friend, I signed up with a group called Meet Market Adventures. They organize outings and activities for single people. It seemed appealing to me because it offered a great variety of activities from hang gliding to light hiking with a group of people who just happened to be single. You know me, I'm not too hung up on finding Mr. Right/Man-who-can-fill-my-closet-with-shoes, but I do find it hard sometimes to get out for a fun night with pals because so many of my friends are non-single. As it turned out, Lisa thought it sounded like fun too, so she signed up right away and we both got free invites to Friday's Latin dance night, just for being newbies.

Lisa came to my place after her yoga class so we could get ready and go together. I decided to wear my black bermuda shorts, a green, low-cut top and my very sexy green shoes that tie around the ankles. No surprise, I built the outfit around the shoes, but it was a hard call deciding whether to start with the green shoes or my superhero red wedges.

Part 2. I'm single because I am a snobby bitch, and that is fine by me.

The event was being held at Tijuana's. The first thing I noticed when we walked in was that there were a lot of women in the room. A blonde one with a clipboard took our names and checked us off. Then we were introduced to the group.

We sat down and I took a scan of the group. Everyone looked older than us by a good five to ten years. I leaned back and nodded as I thought to myself, you know, we're not doing that bad. Sure, Lisa and I are single and not dating with any kind of frequency, but we don't belong here. Lisa and I can at least manage to dress ourselves with a good amount of style. Except one or two, all of the ladies would have made excellent candidates for What Not To Wear. My first impression wasn't that this was a group of people who just don't have the time or luck for meeting people. No, these people were here for some kind of remedial dating class. And there's nothing wrong with that, but I was hoping for something at a little higher level.

The Salsa dancing lessons started off with everyone in three rows practicing the basic steps. Lisa and I were in the back row but I kind of wished we were in the front where it would have been easier to see the instructor. The steps were pretty simple and easy to pick up though. I was happy just to be moving to music again.

Once we had all mastered the steps on our own it was time to partner up and try moving together. The guy I partnered with was tall-ish and slim, wore round wire-framed glasses and had short, light-coloured hair.

He introduced himself and asked me if this was my first event.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Are you nervous?"

I looked him right in the eye and replied, "no." Well, I wasn't. In fact, I was so not nervous that I was getting arrogant. It surprised me a little, but Lisa too admitted afterward that she felt like she had adopted a bit of a snobbish attitude in there. Sound unflattering? I kind of think that's what we were going for. Everyone has their own defenses.

After the lessons my partner offered to buy me a drink. Lisa and I stood with the guys and chatted a bit. Lisa's guy was actually cute. He was a tall Asian guy from the military who was going to be shipping out to Afghanistan next week. Lisa told me she thought my partner seemed like a good possibility for me as he chatted about his interest in the outdoors. Then he started talking about how he takes kids out and teaches them how to hunt waterfowl. I'm not a friend of PETA, but I don't think I could spend much time with a guy who kills animals for sport.

I pulled Lisa away to visit the ladies room. It was about 10:30 and there was nobody else in the bar. We looked at ourselves in the mirrors, all dressed and glammed. up. It's not often we put on our pretty clothes for a night out together. We were also both enjoying good hair days.

"Do you want go to another bar?" Lisa asked. I was a little surprised. Lisa and I met in college seven years ago, but we've never gone to the bar together. I didn't think it was her thing. I was up for some fun, but it had been so long since I'd gone out for a night of dancing that I wasn't really sure where the place-to-be was anymore. I tried to channel my more adventurous sister for some ideas. I would have called her but she's vacationing in Hawaii for two weeks.

Part III Jill and Lisa go down(town).

We decided to hit Blush Ultra Club on Portage Avenue. It was kind of dead. I headed to the bar to get a drink and asked the bartender if he expected it would get much busier.

"Naw, Whiskey Dix is opening tonight so everyone is going there."

Lisa and I made the best of it though and had fun on the dance floor. It didn't take long for me to spot something I liked, standing in a group on the side. He looked youngish, but everyone there seemed younger. He was standing with a few guys and two girls, but I couldn't figure out if one of the girls was there with him. It seemed like no, but I couldn't be certain. He looked kind of like this guy I know, which was the main reason I was so drawn to him.

Later, when the dance floor was a bit fuller and I had lost track of my handsome ghost, this guy came up to me and asked me to dance. I said sure. I was never the girl who got asked to dance, so whenever it happens now it really does make my inner and awkward teenage-self smile. His name was Jason, and he seemed a little shy himself.

Not long after my dancing partner and I parted, I spotted my mark standing on the sidelines again, still nursing a beer. He was without the girls this time so I was about to walk up to him and coolly ask if he danced. Then I noticed his friend standing beside him. It was Jason. I couldn't find the ice in my heart to go over there and thumb my nose at Jason to flirt with his buddy. Yeah, this snobby bitch still has some compassion.

I went home, alone, but smiling. I had a song in my heart and a few new steps for my feet. I'm 26, I'm single, and I still know how to have fun. I'm that confident, well-styled girl who flirts for fun, knows how to dance and gets singled out by random cute guys. That just rocks.

You can stand under my umbrella

After Lisa and I enjoyed some belated birthday cake at Baked, we headed to Blockbuster to pick out a movie. I soon remembered the trouble we have with picking out movies. Lisa's seen almost everything, I've seen almost nothing, except for the ones that we saw together in the theatres.

"Blood Diamond?"

"Oooh, you'd like that one, it was good," she says.

"Charlie Wilson's War?"

"Saw it."

"Did you see Juno?"

"Yeah."

"Is that Spiderman Three? I never saw that. Did you?"

"Yup."

"When do you go see these movies without me?" I have to ask, because we hang out every other weekend and usually make plans to go see something we're both interested in together. I'm not mad, I just honestly don't know how this always ends up happening.

"You don't even like superhero movies," she says.

"I do too!" I am miffed that she obviously forgot the time we lined up to see the first Spiderman movie together after a successful day of shopping. Then I look around at the boy/girl couples browsing the movie walls together and I realize this argument is sounding a little weird.

I spot a title that makes me laugh. I show Lisa.

"Look at this, Meet Market!" It's a horror film, but the title is the same as the latest dating site we've both signed up for.

"...and they soon learn that some people should come with labels," I read the last sentence of the back cover out loud. "Heh, ain't that the truth."

We ended up getting Enchanted and walk back to her place. It's warm but cloudy and humid.

"Do you think we'll get a big storm tonight?" Lisa asks.

"Yeah, the conditions seem right for a good one."

Sure enough, about 20 minutes into the movie I spot a flash of lightning. It's the first storm of the year and it's a pretty good one. I find myself wishing I was watching the storm instead of the TV.

Movies aren't really my thing. I don't really enjoy going to the movie theatres. I rarely find the seats comfortable. I'm much more of a "feet tucked under" or cross-legged kind of girl. In the summer they are always cold because of the cranked up air-conditioning and I don't like watching things in the dark. Theatres kind of make me claustrophobic I guess. Sure, there are some movies I can watch again and again because I like the story or a particular character or because I remember enjoying it with someone else. However, I've come to the realization that I can watch a river flow or a fire flicker, or stare up at the sky for hours, but the idea of spending two hours with a movie is more of a last resort for me.

I get home and find that the storm has moved on and the sky is clearing. I can even see a star or two. Too bad. Sigh, I need to find someone to spend some time with kissing in the rain. Oh well, as the movies promise, someday my prince will come--umbrella and all.

All this and she can write captions too!

Argh, I've been procrastinating on blogging for too long and now I'm forgetting details.

My contact at the Red Shoe House asked me to help out at the fundraiser fashion show last week. She wanted someone to work with the photographer--taking down names for captions--and write the article for the next newsletter.

The day of the event she introduced me and the photographer to each other by an e-mail. His name was Doug. I crossed my fingers that he was Hot-Single-Photographer Doug. He was not, but he was still a lot of fun to hang out with for the night and kept me laughing. I added a lot to my experience as a photographer's assistant--following someone around, taking down names with attention to spelling, and not complaining about the angry pangs of hunger in your stomach because you haven't had a bite to eat since that salad at 11 am. Seriously, Doug, you'd work with me again, right?

When Doug and I were chatting before the event he asked what I do for fun. The first thing that came to mind was, "I'm a blogger". It was weird, I've never identified myself that way before, never mind to someone I had just met. Funny though, it's still easier for me to say that than, "I'm a writer".

I did get to take home a gift bag, that, much to my delight, included a package of McDonald Land cookies and many other fun freebies.

Picture by Doug Little. I forgot to get these guys' names, and phone numbers...

Luck be a lady

I'm pretty sure I've mentioned somewhere on here before that I think the 5th of the month is generally my lucky day. If anything, it's something to look forward to every month, and maybe if something outright serendipitous doesn't happen on (or around, I accept that fate is not a science) that day, it's a good time to reflect on why, in the grand scheme of things, I think I'm a lucky girl.

I woke up this Monday morning, and as I am apt to do lately I checked myself for itchy spots. I never used to feel strongly about any particular day of the week, but I now hate Mondays because Mondays are meetings days. So every Sunday before I go to bed I pray that I will wake up with Chicken Pox. Since I had Chicken Pox when I was a kid, it would be nothing short of a miracle to get them again. On a Monday, no less. No such luck today. Maybe next week.

On the fortunate side though, one of my meetings was cancelled and another one cut short.

Vince checked in on me this afternoon to see how my luck was going. I didn't have much to report, which was disappointing because I am sure he thinks this whole idea is just crazy talk, but he's nice enough to humour me.

I tried to make the early bus home today, but again, no such luck.

When I did get home, I checked my mailbox (the one outside my door, not the one online) and laughed. I got a take-out menu for Lucky Kai Chinese Food. There was also something for the previous owner from National Geographic, and what I presumed to be my property tax bill.

I opened the bill. First I thought I owed some exorbitant amount, but then I read more and learned that my taxes are actually going down this year by $10/month. Yay! Lucky me!

I barbecued tuna steaks for my dinner and tomorrow's lunch. I had frozen tuna (because that's what we eat here at The Little House on The Prairie, dear friends on the west coast). I had never cooked tuna before so I looked for some advice on the Internet. One site (and honestly the only site I really consulted) told me to sear both sides for a minute on a really hot grill. So that's what I did. The inside was pretty much uncooked, which I know is how it comes out on the plate at a restaurant, but I wasn't so sure that was a good thing for a previously frozen piece of seafood that had just spent the last hour thawing on my counter. But I ate it anyway, and lucky me, I'm still alive and not suffering from any kind of terrible stomach rebellion.

I was able to watch some TV tonight. Fortunately, after a three-week, hockey-induced hiatus, The Hour was back on with a new episode (unfortunately for George, his favourite team, the Habs, were eliminated from the play offs this weekend).

My dad came over and while I washed dishes and tidied my house, he raked my back yard. I know, that's not lucky so much as spoiled, but I do feel very fortunate to have a good relationship with my father and a nice, clean back yard as a result of it.

While cleaning, the phone rang. It was my sister calling to say that she put an offer in on a house today and was accepted. I feel that some of my luck was transferred to her, and I am okay with that. I asked her what she ended up paying.

"One eighty-one," she said.

"Ah, lucky number," I said, smiling. '81 was the year I was born.

"Did you tell mom and dad yet?"

"No, you were the first person I called."

I can't say that I cried, but I nearly did. I wanted to. I was touched. I'm lucky to have her for a sister. We're good together.

Tonight, because it was Monday, and because I was not suffering from Chicken Pox nor food poisoning, was The Hills night. After she got off work, Tracy came by to watch the show with me and to celebrate. I had a bottle of red wine waiting. The appropriateness of the label didn't even register with me right away.

"Bin 555," I said. "How perfect."

At the end of the night, Tracy some how knocked her glass off the table. It fell to the floor and bounced. Not a crack or a chip. A Cinco de Mayo miracle.

Cheers. Drink up.

Friday was a flurry of fun. At the last minute I found myself with a ticket to the Winnipeg Wine Festival. The evening had a very fun throwback to high school kind of feel. I got a ride to Amara's house and found her putting the finishing touches of her make-up on, with the radio blaring Flo Rida. We discussed shoes and Veronica Mars. Amara's husband, Christian, was picking up their friends, Gwen and Chad. Once all together, we walked down to the corner of the street and waited for the bus to pick us up.

We sat at the back. I was on the very back bench and despite my cute, 1 1/2" black, open-toed heels, my feet didn't quite reach the floor. Later in the evening they would be blistered, sore and tired, but while having so much fun, it was like they didn't touch the ground the whole night.

The festival is the second largest of its kind in Canada. This year it featured over 585 wines from over 115 wineries. Inside, it was nothing glamorous to look at, but I literally wanted to drink it all in. I had no strategy. My first sip was a rookie mistake--I tried a sparkling white that hadn't had a chance to chill yet. From there I hopped around from booth to booth, sometimes following the lead of my friends, sometimes just sampling on a whim. I favoured the reds but when I wanted a change I would throw in a chardonnay or a Riesling. And when my tongue was feeling overwhelmed I visited the bread station. I think it only took 90 minutes before my head was swimming.

Jill: Look! That one is called Trius (pronounced try-us, according to Jill), it's practically an invitation!

Amara: I think that's supposed to be Tree-us.

Nope, I'm sure it's try-us. And I think I will!

It was fun, probably some of the best fun I'd had in a good long time.