Christmastime in the Emerald City

{December 18, 2007}   More Birthday Awesomeness with an Added Sexy Flair

Okay…so I kind of have to be careful here because as soon as I say “I’m sort of seeing someone” I jinx myself and the whole thing goes to shit. So I’m not going to say anything of the sort. There’s just…this guy…that I know. We met in a rather creative capacity, have worked on a few projects together, and through the magical power of facebook have become pretty decent friends. Naturally, since he is so awesome, I started up with the glorious scheming machine that is my “I’ll take some of that, thank you” tendencies.

Now; we’re buddies and things are awesome just the way they are, so neither of us is in any particular rush to go changing our facebook status or anything crazy like that. I do not have a toothbrush or stash of Tampax at his place and don’t plan to sneak any in. We do not ‘go out’ really, except for breakfast that one time. More about the hanging out, watching the game, sexy times, etc. So it’s all one big cool, undefined ‘whatever the hell’.

Anyways, there is a point here, I’m not just rambling about some guy I’m crushing on. See, in that sort of ‘whatever the hell’ situation, what do you do about birthdays and Christmas and shit like that, especially when it’s all relatively new and possibly weird? I don’t know because I don’t date and don’t know how to date. I mean shit, the last ‘whatever the hell’ guy I was seeing knew me for five years and didn’t even know when the hell my birthday was. I suppose after five years, you get used to inattentive assholes, right?

Well, whatever. So I’m chilling with this guy and I’m wearing the wig, because he thought it was awesome when I posted a picture on facebook and I thought it would be hilarious to show up at his place with it. I even wore it on the bus. The looks were fantastic. But of course it’s Toronto, so nobody says anything. I walk in, the wig is awesome, I plunk my ass down to watch the hockey game. Without too much ado because, hello? the game is on and I’m not retarded.

I am, however, half blind. No, not by love or any such nonsense. I broke my glasses a while back and have been wearing my grade nine prescription for the past month or so. So the conversation goes something like this:

Me: “……are we winning?”

Him: “Um, yes. The score is 2-0.”

Me: “Oh, good……………..who are we playing?”

Him: “….Atlanta….”

Me: “Oh. Which ones are we?”

Him: “The…light ones?”

Me: “Ah. Um…I broke my glasses. I can’t see anything.”

Him: *nods knowingly*

I then confess to being an utter tool and whip out my knitting during the hockey game. I would normally never do this, but I seriously had to get this scarf finished. Christmas knitting, and I’m way behind. So there I was, knitting, wearing my emo wig, and wearing what I now realize is a probably pretty emo outfit. And apparently emo kids knit these days, so I was just rocking the look, razor scars aside.

Naturally, he felt the need to snap a picture of my rather shameful but adorable predicament:


That’s right. Fucking adorable. Hard to the guilty knitting core. Who doesn’t want a piece of that?

So then he busts out my birthday present, a little belated because he’s crazy busy what with his cool job and plethora of other artsy side ventures. But seriously, he got me a birthday present? Dudes, remember, I’m used to jackasses who don’t even know when my birthday is,  let alone actually get me something. So now I am friends with a guy who acknowledges my birthday, gets me something (something totally adorable, details in a moment), and isn’t just in my circle of friends but down with the smooching as well. Awesome! Fingers totally crossed, no way in hell do I want to jinx that!

Anyways, I know you are all wondering what I got. Well. Let me tell you. Another totally awesome aspect of ANYbody is the ability to be perceptive, right? When someone gets you something, it’s sweet, but when it’s something totally perfect it’s like “You actually pay attention to me?! Woah.”

So, Awesome Man has gotten me this super cool Family Guy thing. A big fancy box with a tshirt and matching bobblehead. The character? Evil Monkey. That’s right, I now have a shirt that says “obey your inner monkey” and an Evil Monkey fucking bobblehead!


Awesomeness! And on top of that, he remembered that I like the Clash, but I sold my copy of London Calling a year or so ago for some extra cash when I was really fucking broke. His comment at the time was “I dunno, I might have considered turning tricks before selling my London Calling album.” This was at the aforementioned breakfast, at which point my brain was too sluggish to come up with any sassy reply. But at any rate, there was a copy of London Calling taped to the back of the Family Guy box. Sweet overload, no?



But with less claws and not so yellow teeth. I even brushed my teeth first because he is not down with my cigarettes. See? I’m considerate.

Anyways, afterwards he was complaining about the fact that he had to work fairly early the next morning. In his general line of work, weekends are free. But holidays bugger things up. This obviously let to the best post-sexy-times statement ever:

“I blame this all on the baby Jesus.”

And that, ladies and gentleman, is why this guy is awesome. Am I right? That and the fact that I always get to drink my morning coffee out of the Frankenstein mug. He drinks from the Black Lagoon. Well, no, a mug featuring the Creature from the Black Lagoon.



Josh says:

He sounds cool, slip him some tongue for me. And do you look adorable in your wig, and your emo costume, and your knittery. So cute I could just (pinches cheeks) whudja whudja whudja. (shakes face back and forth making barfy cutesy noises)

And seriously, I don’t own that album, (or almost any really, I steal my music from the netz) but I would have turned tricks first too. Mostly just because I think it would be fun to be a hooker for a while, but I know no one will pay to have sex with me. And what’s with the picture of the rat? Is there some other way to kiss? I thought throwing up both hands and sticking your tongue out as far as you can was standard procedure.

greenmetropolis says:

Yeah, I sent him that picture before and did my best rat imitation when I wanted to get smoochy. I thought it would be fun to be a hooker for a while too, but then I thought about all the diseases and gross things and the fact that generally speaking it’s the uglies that use the ‘tots.

And thanks for the proper spelling of ‘whudja’, that is actually very phonetically correct.

Josh says:

Yeah, but in my case, getting paid to have sex with uglies would be an upgrade from spending moneys to not have sex with good lookin chicks.

And I think you should take a picture doing your best impression of that rat and put it in your next blog! Yeah dawg! (if I’m anything it’s phonetically correct) Seriously though, consider that a request for one rat style smoochie-face pic.

romi41 says:

Okay, I am so NOT gonna jinx this, but I just want you to know that I’m really pleased to see you

A: get treated well, and
B: to see that’s there’s a realness and comfortableness you two seem to have with each other

So with no jinxing-juices, I say, have fun with this! 🙂

greenmetropolis says:

Thanks romi! He’s an awesome bud. How can you not fall for a guy who says things like “pitter patter, up and at ‘er” and then regales you with tales of lighting garbage dumpsters on fire as a kid because “i didn’t have a guitar yet…”? Fingerscrossedfingerscrossedfingerscrossed.

And yes, Josh, I’ll work on that pic. I think it would be awesomesauce.

Josh says:

What do you know, awesome is my favorite kind of sauce. Except for of course “the” sauce.

Awesome Aunt says:

He sounds like a keeper… if only for his most excellent taste in women, wigs and cool, thoughtful gifts. Wondering though what you plan to tell the gerbil? He is certainly trying to get your attention Madam Em… and with a tongue like that I think you might want to keep him in your back pocket. If you do, try to remember not to sit down…

(((hugs))) Happy Christmas!!!

Paul B. says:

Wait a minute… you were knitting a wig? Oh yeah Merry Christmas and all that jazz..

greenmetropolis says:

I was not knitting a wig! I was knitting while WEARING a wig. And where the hell have you been, Paul!

Thanks awesome aunt!

And Happy Christmas to you too cowgal, and everybody else! I lub you!

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