February 11, 2010
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): You're a bit moony over something or someone from your past, but it's not good for you to dwell on stuff like that right now. You may want to stay in touch with your closest friends and family now.
Forget all the hype in Vancouver over the Olympics. Everything I stumbled on television involved the V-Day invasion. Make it go away!
This year I will be strong. I will not buy myself half a dozen boxes of pity chocolate. I will not visualize mutant aphids devouring every red rose petal in the city in the wee hours of the 14th and I will refrain from carrying a pin with me if I near any florist, gift shop or grocery store. (My pop the balloon rampage last year was exhilarating, but expensive. I don’t have the funds this time around.)
Yes, V-Day makes me crazy. The Haves gloat with abandon. The Have Nots relive that salt-in-the-wound sensation, heads bowed. If we’re lucky we might find a nickel on the sidewalk.
Had to channel all my resentment of flaunting Haves into something positive. Decided to attempt to refocus my energy by going for a run through False Creek and Kitsilano. I was actually pleased it was raining. Made the path less crowded. Ran as far as Jericho before turning back. Stopped in my tracks by the Kits Pool as I spotted a most disturbing sight. Heading toward me was Harvey Burns. No time to hide in the bushes or go for a belated polar bear swim. No choice but to smile and say, “Hi Harvey” while starting to run in place. Thought that would be a sign that I needed to get on with the run.
Harvey never was good at reading signs. And, in truth, I wasn’t that great at speaking my mind. “How ’bout a coffee?” he asked, nodding toward the spot across the street. It was one of those times I wished Vancouver didn’t actually have a Starbucks on every corner. Maybe it was the rain, maybe it was lingering frustration over V-Day that I hadn’t managed to burn off, maybe it was the fact that, due to my bleak employment picture, I had been depriving myself of Starbucks lattés, but I said, “Sure.” Meant to say something less enthusiastic like “OK” or “Well, at least the coffee will be good.”
While we waited in line, Harvey confessed that his mother found out from Mavis Benson who found out from Mom that I jog through Kits fairly regularly and Harvey’s been jogging over the Burrard Street Bridge for the past two weeks to try to stalk me. Good ol’ Harv—still no filters. “I’ve lost three pounds,” he beamed. Good for something, I suppose.
He kept mentioning things about Us, that entity that imploded eight years ago, and I kept asking about his wife. “We’re getting a divorce,” he noted.
“Ah, ‘getting’. That means you’re still married.” I smiled as if I wasn’t trying to be intentionally hurtful. Just needed his puppy dog eyes to read my signal: Down, boy!
Slowest line EVER at a Starbucks. Some doofus ahead of us had the nerve to order muffins and tubs of coffee for his entire workforce. Didn’t even catch the name of the company. Would have Googled to see if they had any openings. Harvey kept going on and on about the time we went to Hawaii (I burned the first day and spent the rest of the trip shrouded in bathrobes), that weekend we biked the Kettle Valley (I tumbled, broke my leg and had to be helivac-ed to hospital) and the romantic dinner at Stepho’s (when I first learned I was deathly allergic to eggplant). Good ol’ Harv had a way of making me pine for the past.
Decided the chat in line was plenty. I thanked him for the latté and said I had to dash. More work to do on my résumé, you know. Coffee in hand, I walked up to 4th and made the journey home, trying (unsuccessfully) to block out the V-Day displays in the shop windows. The only thing sadder than being a Have Not at this time of year is being a Had. I will not go there, Harvey.
KEN’S JOURNAL (via iPhone):
TURNED ON THE TV LAST NIGHT & SOME CHEF WAS TALKING ABOUT THE PERFECT MEAL FOR YOUR VALENTINE. BLECH. FLIPPED OVER TO SOME SITCOM FOCUSED ON THE SAME FREAKIN’ DAY. GOT IN THE CAR & DROPPED IN ON SARA. GOT TO READ BELLA A BEDTIME STORY ABOUT SOME MOUSE WITH A PLASTIC PURPLE PURSE, THEN READ RUDY A PRETTY GRIPPING CHAPTER ABOUT A LONE BAT BEING PREYED UPON BY A COUPLE OF CANNIBAL BATS. THAT DID IT FOR GETTING LOVE OFF MY MIND.
SARA & I CHATTED AFTER THE KIDS WERE ALL IN BED. LOTS OF TALK ABOUT JERRY NEVER BEING AROUND. LOTS OF WORRY ABOUT TRAVIS WHO SEEMS TO HAVE FOUND THE WRONG CROWD IN 8TH GRADE. CLAIMS THE JOINT SHE FOUND IN HIS POCKET WAS FOR SHOW. SHE’S NOT BUYING IT & NEITHER AM I. WILL SEE IF I CAN GET TRAVIS TO GO TO ROCK CLIMBING AT THE EDGE THIS WEEKEND. WLD BE GOOD FOR BOTH OF US. AND SARA NEEDS A BREAK. IT’S THE LEAST I CAN DO FOR MY BIG SIS.