Fact is, I've been so busy living I've forgotten to tell everyone about it in minute detail. In my humble opinion, "living" these days means drinking craft beer, complaining about the food-service industry while loving every self-aggrandizing minute of it, and exploring new ways to challenge myself and the opinions of those around me.
Yesterday afternoon, for example, I left work and got a bite to eat. Bought some ingredients to make cookies and banana bread because I haven't done that for a while either. Sunday afternoon seemed like the best time to make my 3-room apartment smell like a patisserie. That's right - 3 ROOMS. Not 3 bedrooms. Literally 150 square feet of space with 2 little windows. Costs $500 a month, which fits nicely in my budget, and is the perfect size for one person (according to Chris Wolff) and a very dishevelled, incontinent, old pussy, named Bubba.
Anyway, great chocolate chip cookies and Chocolate Banana Bread were made without measuring cups and spoons because... who actually needs them? You know what a cup looks like, right? If it calls for something other than a teaspoon or a tablespoon, it's a rather pretentious, motherfucking recipe and you would probably make a mess of it besides.
Afterwards, I watched episodes of Big Bang Theory, tried (once again) to become a Hip Hop dancer with the help of The Fitness Marshall, and took a few online Mandarin courses so that I can be equally as awkward in more than one language. I like Chinese because saying words in that language is like singing and all the words look like stick people dancing. Someone will probably thinks that's racist and to them I say, "Chinese is a nationality (I think) and not a race", but you're probably right. I'm way too excited about all the cultures and all the foods and all the skin colours, religions, habits, inflections, herbal remedies and arts of the world to pretend that there isn't a difference. And the difference is wonderful.
I passed out eating cookies and drinking red wine while reading Wilbur Smith and Truman Capote.This morning, I made coffee and took selfies with Snapchat to see what I would look like with bunny ears for the 100th time. I enjoyed stimulating conversation over breakfast about the difference between "sated", "satisfied" and "satiated". I went shopping for $40 worth of items I will never wear because I really hate my body sometimes. Some days, I think I'm a fucking goddess and everyone should worship my humongous breasts and thick thighs. Other days, I never want to eat again and just "cardio, cardio, cardio" (Rule #1 of Zombieland).
Then I went to work at Beertown Public House where they have 30 or more beer on tap from around the world. No, we don't have Coors Light on draught. You can get that anywhere. You can't get Sawdust City's cask-conditioned Long Dark Voyage to Uranus Imperial Stout just anywhere; that's why you come to Beertown. As part of our continued learning as servers, we sampled 5 types of beer (including a rare and Brett-laden blended ale) and ate Crazy Bread. I don't recall ever eating Little Caesar's Crazy Bread and, let me tell you, it is delicious. Crazy Bread makes me hungry, which I'm convinced is the reason it is called Crazy. Why am I hungry when I just ate several sticks of bread and cheese? That's crazy! However, having seen my naked body in an Urban Planet mirror earlier today, I decided I'd better go to the gym. In this case, I joined the climbing gym around the corner from my apartment. If you've never been, Climbing Gyms offer a series of vertical "courses" that allow you to climb walls using a harness.
This particular gym has autobelays so you can climb without a partner. After a quick refresher, the instructor tells me to climb about twenty feet and then let go of the wall to allow the mechanism drop me slowly to the ground. LOL. I'm not afraid of heights, but I AM afraid of falling. So, when I let go and gravity did its thing, I panicked a little and forgot not to flail. I landed directly on my instructor's toe and then promptly fell to my ass, which is the best way to fall unless you are super cool and cat-like and basically not a fucking idiot like myself.
