i need to write about wednesday. wednesday was the day that fatima and i went to the essence 'gala'. ok it wasn't a gala, but i don't know what it was called. it was a function where you need an invitation to get in, and where they are launching new product and where you get 25% off all the merchandice. well anyways fatima got invited but i didn't. this bugs me a little bit. fatima, in her there, there, soothing kind of way says "but i've been spending here for years." " so have i." i retort. "but i've got years on you." says fatima with the smugness of someone who was into aromatherapy before it was so mainstreamed. well that's true, but i don't think they only invited people who've been shopping there for five years or more. i mean over two years should be long enough, aaaand, does fatima spend a huge load of cash every time she's there? no, she's too sensible for that. i'm not sensible at all! i think they may have my old address, or it may be that my store (the richmond one where the girl knows me.) doesn't seem to be very good about sending me the invites. she always tells me about them, but then i don't get the follow through. anyways, i'm not being petty about it. :) luckily fatima's invite was for two. fatima took the sky train and i rode my bike. i was a little nervous about leaving the bike routes after the bridge, and riding the lil' ol' bike on the big busy streets of downtown, but i did allright. what you have to do, is ignore the cars as much as possible while staying predictable and visible to them. if you ignore them, then they don't throw you off and make you nervous, and if you stay predictable and visible, they don't hit you. at a light on smithe, an asain lady asked me how to get to the orpheum from the window of her car. the light had changed to green, and so flustered i told them to keep going straight to seymore, but that was all i could explain. i hope they found it.
i met fatima at the corner of robson and burrard and we walked my bike to the store and locked it up to a tree in front. ther were two men in suits standing guard, one younger and one older but not that old. 40s probably. of course they flirted with fatima as she looked for her invite to show them. they said she could just flash it at them. i wondered if i had any bike grease on my forehead. no i didn't really, but now that i think about it, i could have had. (hold on. heather needs to go to the bathroom and she doesn't want me around while she does her deed. i have to go upstairs. she said i was going to think she was psychotic. yep, pretty much. :) ok, i'm back, i did the dishes while i was waiting and then when i started to come back down, heather stops me and says she hasto go to the bathroom again. whaaaaaaaaaaaaa. i said that i did too. which i did, and that's how that craziness was ended) so anyways fatima and i were given gifts at the door. for some reason, i thought they were different and i wanted fatima's, but in the end, when we were out side by my bike again and i asked her which kind she got, she gave me a weird look and said that we got the same one. no, i didn't get the same as you, i asserted, feeling that i might be wrong, but asserting anyways. we checked. they were both the same. they gave the same gift to everyone. anywas at the gala, there were people serving hourderves or however you spell it, and you could have champpagne. they poured the champagne into some orange juice and added a blueberry. they gave fatima and i some bottled water. fatima and i did four rounds of the store. the first two rounds were purely looking rounds and the last two were the picking things to buy rounds. fatima was very drawn to the coconut section as i predicted. i urged her to buy a new coconut soap. "but i have one." she would say. "ya, but now you could use it." i counter. the truth is she can't bring herself to use it because she likes the smell so much, so it just sits on her dresser. i liked a blend called wicked. orange and aniseed. yum. there was a new blend called squeeze. and there was this stocky, blond headed, red faced, sweaty (he drank a lot of champagne) guy who kept telling his companion about it. we didnt' like the way he said squeeeeeze. it sounded lewd. the girl with the food brought some cookies around and asked us if we'd like some. 'what kind are they?" we asked. she totally didn't know. "umm.... well these look like they have nuts in them, and these look like they might be chocolate." we laughed. she wasn't being sarcastic, she was trying to help, but the chocolate ones were totally dark brown. they were obviously chocolate. we kept up some dialouge about it for quite a while after. "umm these ones look like they might have nuts so they could be nutty..." that girl liked me. she brought me cookies when i wanted them. when fatima and i had made all our choices, we waited in line. a french accented woman offered to massage my hand while i waited in line. the people in front of me said no. i said sure. she picked the arm that i had sprayed the frankensence oil mist on (similar to frankenbeth) and so that arm was super moist. plus she didn't totally finish by the time it was my turn at the cash register. she moved on to fatima who was holding our basket. i said i'd hold it. "what a nice friend." she cooed. "i don't know her." i said. she looked really confused. later she said fatima's hands were dried. this was a fact complained about at the bicycle. "like i was moisturizing all day just to come here." said fatima bitterly to the bike. the two cashiers were the girl who knew me and the guy who knew fatima. we got the guy who knew fatima. "you look familiar." he said to her. "you say that to me every time." she said back. he'd grown a gotee. i said it made him look less flabby faced. at the same time fatima said less baby faced. i guess you see who's the nicer of the two of us.
fatima and i walked my bike down robson. we looked in the window of american eagle which is now right next door to essence. two good stores right beside each other, i enthused. fatima laughed. banana republic was geting renovations, and i swear the guy weilding a hammer inside was a mormon. from surrey maybe. i called out mormon when we walked by, but it wasn't loud enough. some people, obviously americans stopped us and asked us where the crepe place was. i thought one way and fatima thought another. we looked at them helplessly. later we came across it. it was closed down and it was in my direction. when you're right you're right. fatima and i stopped to sit on the art gallery stpes and watch this jazz band. the main guy was a trombone player. he seemed to play the same song quite a bit. ther was also a girl who danced and threw a baton. we listened, and watched the peeps.
fatima walked me down to my take off spot. we gave another guy some directions on our way. i dont' remember for what though. i just remember that fatima was afraid to run into him in case they were wrong. outside of starbucks where i had bought a passion tea lemonade in order to use their washroom, a guy verbally appreciated fatima's beauty. he said they don't get much of that in california. he urged her to come to his show. this kind of happening is more common place than you would believe. i sent her off down seymore to the skytrain, and told her to walk on the other side of the street from the bums. (kind of like the levite and the high preist) i've already scoped it out she assured me.
the ride home was fun. the last time i rode home from down town, i took it easy, stoped and waited for elicia at the top of the killer hill and waited for her to rest and then slowly the rest of they way, often waiting for elicia. this time i didn't stop at all, except at the wonderful blessed red lights that gave my sore saddle a break. but it was a good exertion. a victory over self. the kind of thing i like. it only took me 30 minutes. when i told elicia that it took me 30 minutes, she wailed that i do everything better than her, (running and cycling being the only things) and that she wanted to do something better than me. so much for way to go laura, which was what i was looking for. jonathon, who was there when i got home, said she sounded like a little sister. jonathon had dropped by to give us his message. it was about dealing with stresses. it's funny but i can't remember much of what he said, i remember that it was a pretty good message by pres. faust or something, but what i do remember was his question 'how did your parents deal with stress?" ha ha poor guy. his questions are often ineffectual like that. he stayed for a while after, talking to elicia about her rs woes. meanwhile i ate pizza pop after pizza pop. jonathon said he'd take us to the movies anytime we wanted. we jsut had to name the date, that is except thursday, and of course friday was institute, and monday tuesday and wednesday weren't that great either. :) then, just tell me when, was how he ended. and that was wednesday.
i met fatima at the corner of robson and burrard and we walked my bike to the store and locked it up to a tree in front. ther were two men in suits standing guard, one younger and one older but not that old. 40s probably. of course they flirted with fatima as she looked for her invite to show them. they said she could just flash it at them. i wondered if i had any bike grease on my forehead. no i didn't really, but now that i think about it, i could have had. (hold on. heather needs to go to the bathroom and she doesn't want me around while she does her deed. i have to go upstairs. she said i was going to think she was psychotic. yep, pretty much. :) ok, i'm back, i did the dishes while i was waiting and then when i started to come back down, heather stops me and says she hasto go to the bathroom again. whaaaaaaaaaaaaa. i said that i did too. which i did, and that's how that craziness was ended) so anyways fatima and i were given gifts at the door. for some reason, i thought they were different and i wanted fatima's, but in the end, when we were out side by my bike again and i asked her which kind she got, she gave me a weird look and said that we got the same one. no, i didn't get the same as you, i asserted, feeling that i might be wrong, but asserting anyways. we checked. they were both the same. they gave the same gift to everyone. anywas at the gala, there were people serving hourderves or however you spell it, and you could have champpagne. they poured the champagne into some orange juice and added a blueberry. they gave fatima and i some bottled water. fatima and i did four rounds of the store. the first two rounds were purely looking rounds and the last two were the picking things to buy rounds. fatima was very drawn to the coconut section as i predicted. i urged her to buy a new coconut soap. "but i have one." she would say. "ya, but now you could use it." i counter. the truth is she can't bring herself to use it because she likes the smell so much, so it just sits on her dresser. i liked a blend called wicked. orange and aniseed. yum. there was a new blend called squeeze. and there was this stocky, blond headed, red faced, sweaty (he drank a lot of champagne) guy who kept telling his companion about it. we didnt' like the way he said squeeeeeze. it sounded lewd. the girl with the food brought some cookies around and asked us if we'd like some. 'what kind are they?" we asked. she totally didn't know. "umm.... well these look like they have nuts in them, and these look like they might be chocolate." we laughed. she wasn't being sarcastic, she was trying to help, but the chocolate ones were totally dark brown. they were obviously chocolate. we kept up some dialouge about it for quite a while after. "umm these ones look like they might have nuts so they could be nutty..." that girl liked me. she brought me cookies when i wanted them. when fatima and i had made all our choices, we waited in line. a french accented woman offered to massage my hand while i waited in line. the people in front of me said no. i said sure. she picked the arm that i had sprayed the frankensence oil mist on (similar to frankenbeth) and so that arm was super moist. plus she didn't totally finish by the time it was my turn at the cash register. she moved on to fatima who was holding our basket. i said i'd hold it. "what a nice friend." she cooed. "i don't know her." i said. she looked really confused. later she said fatima's hands were dried. this was a fact complained about at the bicycle. "like i was moisturizing all day just to come here." said fatima bitterly to the bike. the two cashiers were the girl who knew me and the guy who knew fatima. we got the guy who knew fatima. "you look familiar." he said to her. "you say that to me every time." she said back. he'd grown a gotee. i said it made him look less flabby faced. at the same time fatima said less baby faced. i guess you see who's the nicer of the two of us.
fatima and i walked my bike down robson. we looked in the window of american eagle which is now right next door to essence. two good stores right beside each other, i enthused. fatima laughed. banana republic was geting renovations, and i swear the guy weilding a hammer inside was a mormon. from surrey maybe. i called out mormon when we walked by, but it wasn't loud enough. some people, obviously americans stopped us and asked us where the crepe place was. i thought one way and fatima thought another. we looked at them helplessly. later we came across it. it was closed down and it was in my direction. when you're right you're right. fatima and i stopped to sit on the art gallery stpes and watch this jazz band. the main guy was a trombone player. he seemed to play the same song quite a bit. ther was also a girl who danced and threw a baton. we listened, and watched the peeps.
fatima walked me down to my take off spot. we gave another guy some directions on our way. i dont' remember for what though. i just remember that fatima was afraid to run into him in case they were wrong. outside of starbucks where i had bought a passion tea lemonade in order to use their washroom, a guy verbally appreciated fatima's beauty. he said they don't get much of that in california. he urged her to come to his show. this kind of happening is more common place than you would believe. i sent her off down seymore to the skytrain, and told her to walk on the other side of the street from the bums. (kind of like the levite and the high preist) i've already scoped it out she assured me.
the ride home was fun. the last time i rode home from down town, i took it easy, stoped and waited for elicia at the top of the killer hill and waited for her to rest and then slowly the rest of they way, often waiting for elicia. this time i didn't stop at all, except at the wonderful blessed red lights that gave my sore saddle a break. but it was a good exertion. a victory over self. the kind of thing i like. it only took me 30 minutes. when i told elicia that it took me 30 minutes, she wailed that i do everything better than her, (running and cycling being the only things) and that she wanted to do something better than me. so much for way to go laura, which was what i was looking for. jonathon, who was there when i got home, said she sounded like a little sister. jonathon had dropped by to give us his message. it was about dealing with stresses. it's funny but i can't remember much of what he said, i remember that it was a pretty good message by pres. faust or something, but what i do remember was his question 'how did your parents deal with stress?" ha ha poor guy. his questions are often ineffectual like that. he stayed for a while after, talking to elicia about her rs woes. meanwhile i ate pizza pop after pizza pop. jonathon said he'd take us to the movies anytime we wanted. we jsut had to name the date, that is except thursday, and of course friday was institute, and monday tuesday and wednesday weren't that great either. :) then, just tell me when, was how he ended. and that was wednesday.
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