Birds, burns and booze

Posted on March 3, 2005


Much of note has happened over the past few days. And by “of note”, I mean of no interest to anyone but myself and those few unfortunates who have already committed to being friends with me and so are forced to comment favourably on my blog.
First, the trip to Ottawa. This was not particularly remarkable but it was nice to see my friend D again. She goes to Ottawa Law and so in her company I was subjected to hanging out with people of dazzling degrees of Caucasianess. I mean, it seems that it would be statistically unlikely to attain such an ethnically uniform student body, but they have. I attended their formal and diverted myself by practicing come-hither looks on innocent law students I will probably see across a courtroom some day. I showed my come hither look to D and she gasped, scandalized: “you can’t do that in public!” So I guess I do have a career in silent movies of the 1920s to fall back on, since being a lawyer is clearly not going to work out for me.
She also neglected to tell me that her shower works backwards (i.e. hot is cold) causing me to burn all my fun bits when I turned it on. In response to my agonized yell she rushed into the bathroom where I showed her the reddened parts while screaming in great ire, “BURNT TO A CRISP! A CRISP!” I have no regard for the accuracy of my statements when angered. Or ever. She fell about laughing, as always, knocking over tubes of toothpaste and towels.
But I got my revenge the next day. D is an athletic and car-loving female, in whose presence I feel made of solid estrogen; pink and frilly. We were walking down a freezing Ottawa sidewalk (why do they only remove ice from sidewalks in Toronto) when suddenly she stopped dead and gripped my arm in a grip like an iron vise. Fearing great danger in the form of an armed gunman, I looked around to find her pointing in desperate panic at a pigeon on the sidewalk and pulling me away from it. D is passionately afraid of birds, particularly pigeons. Since I often forget this, it is a constant source of renewed joy. She started twitching and flattening herself against nearby store windows to minimize herself as a target while I, doubled over, tears of laughter streaming from my eyes, offered to shoo it away for her. However, apparently the specter of a pigeon actually flapping its WINGS renders her practically epileptic with fear so we were forced to edge past it while I swayed and staggered around with laughter. It was the funniest moment of 2004-2005, without a doubt. But if she makes fun of my chubby arms again I know how to get her. I will purchase a budgie.
Of course, due to the gross incompetence of Ottawa bus drivers I missed my train to Toronto and was forced to return to D’s place, where she compelled me to undertake my first glance of a textbook this semester (I had only brought the textbook with me to impress people on the train). However, my life has always been attended by remarkable bad luck so I wasn’t too fazed by the delay.

Yesterday, three friends of mine decided to blow off six hours of class and instead go drinking in a dingy campus pub. Trying to illustrate the extent of my eccentricity and total lack of brain-mouth filter, my friend P related an anecdote about how I leaned over to him last year in Contracts and remarked in a casual fashion that if I had to eat somebody, it would be him.
We mused on this for a while. Norwaican was of the opinion that it was a person’s diet that mattered most, and so he would look for someone who ate spicy food. I opined that a lazy and female candidate would be the way to go (tender flesh). J pointed out that he wanted his meat to be veined with fat, so a plump person would be best.
We moved onto other topics, but secretly, Norwaican, J and I contiuned to lust over P. He was the most delicious and we all knew it. Abruptly J said, “I’ve been trying to tiptoe around it, but if our whole class was on a plane and it crashed, you’d be the first to get eaten. Maybe even before the plane crashed.”
P did a bit of a freak out, sputtering profanity and beer-flecked spittle. Then we all went to the gym and had a drunken workout, reeking alcohol and sweat all over innocent undergrads. Then we drank some more. Good day.
Also, I bought some shisha tobacco today. You gotta love a campus where you can actually purchase such things. Yay multiculturalism.