February 4, 2010
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): You should attract attention this morning -- but not in an embarrassing way. After the praise-fest is over, you almost certainly turn inward a bit and need to pursue somewhat selfish goals.
Oh, how I love my horoscope! It really must know me. I’ll attract attention, but for once, it won’t be embarrassing in nature. So glad for the clarification. Perhaps I can get through the morning without blueberries stuck between my teeth or toilet paper clinging to my shoe. I feel I can face anything! Even The Drama that Is Jenny.
The weird thing is I’m in a place where attention of any kind really doesn’t matter. Jenny called me out of the blue after I’d had coffee with Estelle yesterday. She’s been in Roberts Creek for eight months and it seems like she moved to Jupiter. Never made it over there last summer and we hadn’t talked since October. I could tell Jenny was feeling down so when she invited me to catch the next ferry over, well, why not?
Tupper is in his glory taking in the new scents. When she picked us up at the terminal, she immediately took us to a beach in Gibsons where Tupper could run around and piddle on logs without other dogs out-marking him seconds later. For the most part, we had the entire expanse to ourselves. Two minutes into our walk, Jenny blurted, “I’m pregnant.” No exclamation mark.
“That’s great!” I said, trying to be cheery. “How’s Gus feel about it?”
“Gus left me three and a half months ago. It’s not his.”
“What?!” I didn’t want to throw in an exclamation mark there, but this was as shocking as things get. I met Jenny and Gus during my last two years at UBC. Harvey hated them. So earthy. Dreadlocks, tie-dye, incense,…everything Harvey and I weren’t. Still, I loved our regular meal gatherings at The Naam, in part to see Harvey squirm: no ties, people reading The Guardian instead of The Wall Street Journal and not a Hilfiger item of clothing in the entire restaurant.
Jenny and Gus were my rock, the standard for an ideal relationship. They were two souls completely intertwined, the poster couple for a good marriage even though they chose to live common law. What had the Sunshine Coast done to them?
Jenny appeared to read my mind, quite possibly a power she’d gained from drinking dandelion tea. “I met a folk singer. Gabriel.” She almost swooned. Was that the morning sickness or love? “At first, Gus and I welcomed him into our union, but then Gus kinda felt awkward.” Make that two. “He just walked away in late October and now he’s in Toronto, studying for his real estate license and going into business with his brother. Can you believe he’s stooped to selling land?”
There were things I couldn’t believe, but Gus’ new career path was far down the list. I didn’t know what to say, but she kept searching my face for a thought or, more likely being as it was Jenny, a feeling. “So,…you’re pregnant.” She nodded. And then I said that thing that all people say, even though I’d never ever actually seen it in anyone: “You glow.”
“Thanks!” Exclamation at last. And, of course, one of Jenny’s all-encompassing Mother Earth hugs. In that moment, I realized something else had changed. She’d given up on deodorant.
As Gabriel had a gig on Vancouver Island, Jenny and I had the rental cottage to ourselves. Well, Jenny, Tupper, the chickens, two geese, some heard-but-not-seen rats and I. We chatted long into the night, drinking an endless supply of natural teas, each of us dashing to the outhouse—yes, outhouse!—at regular intervals.
Around noon today, the Olympic torch is coming through. I’d thought Jenny would be just as anti-Olympics as Lucy, but no, she’s all for it. She’s even knitted a series of scarves and toques with the maple leaf on them. Jenny, profiting from the Olympics. Jenny, making a go of a three-way love fest. Jenny without Gus. Jenny pregnant. My head was spinning. She hadn’t spiked the tea, had she?
KEN’S JOURNAL (via BlackBerry):
MET W/THE BOSS 1ST THING THIS A.M. HE HAS A REAL (NORMAL) NAME, BUT INSISTS WE CALL HIM “THE BOSS”. GUESS SOMEONE MUST’VE DARED TO TELL HIM KING WAS TOO OSTENTATIOUS. I ACTUALLY LIKE CALLING HIM THE BOSS B/C IT AMUSES ME. MAYBE I’M SUPPOSED TO CONJURE UP SPRINGSTEEN, BUT I PICTURE DIANA ROSS IN HER DISCO PHASE INSTEAD.
BIG MTG THIS P.M. WITH GENERAL CONTRACTORS, ARCHITECTS AND SUCH TO MAP OUT A TIMELINE FOR THE BURNABY DEVELOPMENT. EVERYTHING’S A GO AND THE BOSS WAS HEAPING PRAISE ON ME DURING OUR MORNING MTG. HE’S POURING IT ON NOW B/C HE’LL KEEP THE SPOTLIGHT ON HIMSELF WHEN EVERYONE ELSE CONVENES. (THEY, OF COURSE, GET TO CALL HIM DAVE. AS LONG AS THEY DON’T LOOK HIM DIRECTLY IN THE EYE.) I’M SUPPOSED TO BE SATISFIED THAT HE ACKNOWLEDGES MY CONTRIBUTION IN ANY CAPACITY. BUT I’M NOT HERE FOR LONG. CAN’T BELIEVE HE DIDN’T BACK UP THE PRAISE W/A RAISE. JACKY, LUKE, WENDY & I NEED TO MEET AGAIN TO PLAN OUR NEW VENTURE. MY DAYS OF BEING IN THE SHADOW OF THE BOSS ARE NUMBERED. ANOTHER DIANA ROSS SONG COMES TO MIND: “IT’S MY TURN”. (NOTE TO SELF: ASK THERAPIST IF MY KNOWLEDGE OF DIANA ROSS WARRANTS ANALYSIS.)
BIG DATE TONITE. DECIDED ON BISHOP’S SINCE MARIBETH LIVES IN KITS. I’M THINKING THIS CLD BE THE START OF SOMETHING AMAZING. CAN’T WAIT TO LEAVE CLARA IN THE REARVIEW MIRROR.