Monday, October 11, 2010

(dressed as a wood nymph for a toga-party on Saturday. I wanted to be different.)

So I write this while sitting in a small air-conditioned booth in a Chinese/Western restaurant called Happy Valley Restaurant. It is situated in a very small town called R-, and it is 2 hours South-West of the city. Sometimes I feel very small town and hick in my city, but when I arrived here I felt extremely city girl. It probably doesn't help that K and I are dressed to the nines, in (her) a sparkly, swingy, beaded dress, and (me) in a short ruffled red number. Hair, make up, and heels. I know that this is our Thanksgiving weekend, but it's Joel who's getting married- Joel, as in big, tall, handsome devil who loves to play the hero. Joel who would walk me to my car in the dark every night after work when I was 17, Joel who spent all his student loans on a guitar, Joel who found out I had no grad date for the prom and swept me off my feet at the very last minute. Joel who has stuck by me through thick and thin, eating huge amounts of dinner with my family, and beating me at Guitar Hero even though I had been practicing for months in university. Of course I'm going to his wedding. He's one of my best friends. Even though it's in the middle of freaking NOWHERE. But it's fun. K and I always seem to have the randomest adventures, and we always do it with a sense of humour and openess to experiencing new things that makes these events so memorable.

Life has been busy. It whips by and leaves me startled and bemused at what is happening around me. I'm not going to the university this semester, instead I'm working two jobs- one at my wonderful cafe, and the other at a coffee shop down the street. It is staffed and customered by beautiful, cool, pretentious people. I don't really fit in, but it provides a second income that I desperately need since: I'm going to school in Italy with my sister in January!

Sorry to interrupt this. The wedding last night was a ton o' fun, very small town and welcoming with good homemade food, lots of dancing, and a cute best man (if anything happens further we will call him Prince Harry, since he strongly resembles a better looking version of the British monarch.) to help make the evening memorable. In between the hours of ceremony and reception, K and I bought a bag of candy, a disposable camera, and the October issue of Vogue with which to amuse ourselves. We took wind-blown pictures in our dresses under a stormy and dramatic sky, and with the prairie as our back drop I have no doubt that there will be some hipsterish ones in the lot.

Today I hung out with my cousins who had come up from C-, and this afternoon B and I took our dogs for a long sunny walk in the river valley. B is my new friend. He is a wonderful person, and I feel like I should come up with a better nick-name for him, but I honestly don't know him that well, and I don't know how far I can push things without offending him. In a few minutes he is picking me up again and we are going out to Rob's house for dinner (another co-worker) and I feel slightly nervous because everyone else is so OLD. Like 30+. I am making myself bring forth every ounce of maturity and grace I possess, in order to fit in. But I'll still be me.
Isn't life grand these days?


  1. Let me guess. Rimbey?

    Joel sounds like a true-blue sort of friend.

    ITALY?! just went to Egypt and all that! You've used up your awesome-places-to-travel quota, dang it.

    And yes, life is grand these days. Good to hear about how grand yours is. How was the wedding?

  2. Postman: IT WAS RIMBEY!!!!!! HOW DID YOU KNOW????!
    And my going back to Italy is like a necessity of life. i think I belong there. I am so glad to hear you are doing well!

  3. Well, there aren't too many towns that begin with R two hours southwest of the Big E, are there? When you said "two hours southwest" I just, well, y'know, loaded up Google Maps, and using my intimate knowledge of long-distance driving and kilometers and highways and stuff, I divined which R-beginning town you were talking about. Simple really.

    I am NOT a stalker.


    Well, you've definitely convinced me to give Italy a try. I was all for passing it up, Dean Martin songs notwithstanding. I heard Venice was trashy, Rome too crowded, Sardinia rather unfriendly, and Tuscany overdone. But after reading what you wrote (can I really call it a "review"? An "account"? A "monologue"? Your poetical description seems so much more than any one term could describe)...well, maybe there's a hidden corner waiting for me there somewhere.

    Did I mention I was going to try to make it to Spain next September?