Some people make plans and insist they must be adhered to – like superglue. Me? I’m more like Scotch tape. I’ll stick to things as long as I can, but circumstances are usually out of my control.
Every year, Vancouver has the Celebration of Lights, an international fireworks show played to music. My company usually arranges a small cruise around English Bay to watch the finale, as a reward for brokers selling a lot and allowing them to interact with us in a more casual setting. But, we’re not doing it this year because our brokers haven’t been selling enough and because we’re using that money on marketing instead.
ANYWAY. Since I won’t be on a dinner cruise to watch the fireworks this year, I arranged with a friend that we would go out of dinner (CHEAT MEAL, BITCHES) and then wander down to English Bay to see the fireworks.
Then he got sick (bad fish) and couldn’t make it. But hey, I’m a rolling stone, I can roll with this. I invited two other friends to accompany myself and Mr Grumpiface on this grand adventure. Then they decided to skip the fireworks, because reasons. And so, we went out for dinner and NOMNOMNOM.
You know how I said I can’t digest dairy? Well, I still can’t. Apparently the sauce I thought was mayo was not mayo. I have no idea what it was. But when I realized I had inadvertently poisoned myself, I bowed to the inevitable conclusion that I too, would not be seeing the fireworks tonight. Then I gave Mr. Grumpiface permission to drive like a maniac on the way home so I could flee into the safety of my house and purge my cheat meal before it killed me. (It doesn’t actually kill me, it makes me very, very sick, and occasionally suicidal, as I would rather die than continue feeling like my stomach is exploding.)
So, after that as an evening, maybe I should have scrapped the plan after the first kink. Or, maybe I should remember that while the waitresses get annoyed with me for asking what’s in everything, it’s better than having some cream sauce completely ruin my evening. But hey, there are 2 more nights of fireworks, so I have at least one more opportunity to go see them. We’ll try again next week.
In other news, I AM SO SORE. Yesterday was leg day. I did these Smith weighted lunge things that have resulted in near-incapacitation the following day. It hurts so much… *cries inside* I used to make fun of Mr Grumpiface for how sore he was all the time, and now he’s not very sympathetic to my pain. We have a complicated relationship. (but not in a Facebook attention-whore sort of way; I mean in the day-to-day interactions where it becomes clear that our love is based on mutually destructive insult-based humor.) But hey, it seems to work for us. All things considered, I could do worse. 😉
Besides… he’s so pretty.