Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Are you thinking what I'm thinking!?
Lucy, slobbering drunk at this point, just kept repeating the words "makeover makeover makeover makeover makeover makeover MAKEOVER!" and then giggling hysterically afterwards.
greta gets coached
“DRASTIC?”
Greta spat four feet in front her.
“Exactly what part of our lives in the last, oooh, ten years, HASN’T been drastic?”
Greta occasionally moved to other countries to pursue love, ditto Lucy. In a different take on avoiding real life, Babs just went all over hell and creation on platonic adventures in the Third World. Her most recent trip to England with her mother did not of course count. But that sojourn in Jordan to avoid feeling like the other woman over Christmas most certainly did.
“Drastic is our PROBLEM, Babs. If we didn’t have to be so goddamn extreme all the time we’d be considerably more tolerant. Or tolerable. Or whatever. I’m not kidding, I think we are miseducated about love. I went to Queens with a woman who teaches love coaching, we should take it. I’m serious. She stopped working for the Bank of Canada because lovecoaching was more successful.”
“Greta stop working from home on that fundraiser, it gives you too many opportunities to watch Oprah”.
“Yeah…I’m sorry Gret, but there is no way I am spending money on a love coach. Have you seen my student loans? We could make an extreme change and be, you know, GENTLE. See how that pans out.”
“I am not going to be infantilized in order to find someone to clean up after”.
“Oh lighten up. Let’s go somewhere and get another round”.
Greta spat four feet in front her.
“Exactly what part of our lives in the last, oooh, ten years, HASN’T been drastic?”
Greta occasionally moved to other countries to pursue love, ditto Lucy. In a different take on avoiding real life, Babs just went all over hell and creation on platonic adventures in the Third World. Her most recent trip to England with her mother did not of course count. But that sojourn in Jordan to avoid feeling like the other woman over Christmas most certainly did.
“Drastic is our PROBLEM, Babs. If we didn’t have to be so goddamn extreme all the time we’d be considerably more tolerant. Or tolerable. Or whatever. I’m not kidding, I think we are miseducated about love. I went to Queens with a woman who teaches love coaching, we should take it. I’m serious. She stopped working for the Bank of Canada because lovecoaching was more successful.”
“Greta stop working from home on that fundraiser, it gives you too many opportunities to watch Oprah”.
“Yeah…I’m sorry Gret, but there is no way I am spending money on a love coach. Have you seen my student loans? We could make an extreme change and be, you know, GENTLE. See how that pans out.”
“I am not going to be infantilized in order to find someone to clean up after”.
“Oh lighten up. Let’s go somewhere and get another round”.
Babs lays it down.
When they'd first arrived, Greta had run into some friends at the pub with good weed - Greta knew half the city. She and Babs had stepped out into the snow for a toke while Lucy ordered the beer.
"Seriously guys," Babs' eyes were red as she held her hands up near her face, turning them over and repeatedly looking up to see if the other two women were paying attention. They weren't.
"I know just how this is going to end up," Lucy took another gulp of her beer. "I'm going to see him in the hallway on Monday and he'll say 'hey' like shared a table at the cafeteria - where the food is SHIT by the way..."
Lucy was getting loaded. She was doing this because she was slowly filling up with regret. She'd already had an intense loathing for her academic department and all the reprobates in it, now she had gone and fucked the only person who seemed remotely cool and she knew how the rest of the story would go - it always had the same ending. Lucy always thought she should write a movie about her love life - she knew the script by heart now but she had the vague suspicion the film would be co opted and result in a Reality Bites for the millennium kind of feel. Lucy could never put her name on such a project.
Greta nodded as Lucy ranted on, her chin in her hand, stoned as well but not displaying any outward signs of it. The dull light of the pub glinted off her bangles. This was her only night off for the next three weeks and here she was, spending it with her two other single friends in a dingy pub in Cabbage Town. Greta had been in school for the last 15 years. Two undergrads, two masters (one of them an abandoned PHd) and then med school. She was still young despite all that academia; she'd finished high school two years early, and been nothing but blond ambition since. But what, she asked herself, did she have to show for it in the love department? Why couldn't she focus her ambition to find someone half decent? Hey was that guy with hockey hair checking her out? Oh god.
Lucy's rant had subsided into gloomy drinking when she looked up at Babs who was trying to get their attention. "What?"
"I said we need to make over our love lives!" Babs said again, wiping a chunk of hair out of her face. Babs had gone from thinking about her hands to Lucy's Man Hands academic to her own male troubles. Babs hadn't told either woman yet but she was having an affair. It was with a lawyer at the court who had been married for 10 years. The attraction between them had been instant and Babs hadn't known about his wife until it was much too late to turn the attraction off. The sex was fantastic (usually in his office which made it even more fantastic) but afterwards, always afterwards, Babs felt like hot garbage. Not to mention an intense loathing towards him.
"What do you have in mind?" Greta asked.
"Well look at us," Babs said "three over educated successful young women with zero prospects in the love department. I don't mean sex department-" Babs said as Lucy opened her mouth. Lucy closed it again. "I mean Love. You know, like spend the night, read the paper, fight over who is going to clean the toilet love? I mean, what the hell is going on?"
Greta and Lucy exchanged a look - Babs tended to get preachy when she'd had a few too many.
"Obviously we are doing something wrong!"
"Maybe we should take a course?" Greta suggested.
"Or fix our feng shui" Lucy added "I think one of my plants is blocking a mirror or something."
"No no no," Babs said, getting testy. "We have to do something much more drastic!"
"Seriously guys," Babs' eyes were red as she held her hands up near her face, turning them over and repeatedly looking up to see if the other two women were paying attention. They weren't.
"I know just how this is going to end up," Lucy took another gulp of her beer. "I'm going to see him in the hallway on Monday and he'll say 'hey' like shared a table at the cafeteria - where the food is SHIT by the way..."
Lucy was getting loaded. She was doing this because she was slowly filling up with regret. She'd already had an intense loathing for her academic department and all the reprobates in it, now she had gone and fucked the only person who seemed remotely cool and she knew how the rest of the story would go - it always had the same ending. Lucy always thought she should write a movie about her love life - she knew the script by heart now but she had the vague suspicion the film would be co opted and result in a Reality Bites for the millennium kind of feel. Lucy could never put her name on such a project.
Greta nodded as Lucy ranted on, her chin in her hand, stoned as well but not displaying any outward signs of it. The dull light of the pub glinted off her bangles. This was her only night off for the next three weeks and here she was, spending it with her two other single friends in a dingy pub in Cabbage Town. Greta had been in school for the last 15 years. Two undergrads, two masters (one of them an abandoned PHd) and then med school. She was still young despite all that academia; she'd finished high school two years early, and been nothing but blond ambition since. But what, she asked herself, did she have to show for it in the love department? Why couldn't she focus her ambition to find someone half decent? Hey was that guy with hockey hair checking her out? Oh god.
Lucy's rant had subsided into gloomy drinking when she looked up at Babs who was trying to get their attention. "What?"
"I said we need to make over our love lives!" Babs said again, wiping a chunk of hair out of her face. Babs had gone from thinking about her hands to Lucy's Man Hands academic to her own male troubles. Babs hadn't told either woman yet but she was having an affair. It was with a lawyer at the court who had been married for 10 years. The attraction between them had been instant and Babs hadn't known about his wife until it was much too late to turn the attraction off. The sex was fantastic (usually in his office which made it even more fantastic) but afterwards, always afterwards, Babs felt like hot garbage. Not to mention an intense loathing towards him.
"What do you have in mind?" Greta asked.
"Well look at us," Babs said "three over educated successful young women with zero prospects in the love department. I don't mean sex department-" Babs said as Lucy opened her mouth. Lucy closed it again. "I mean Love. You know, like spend the night, read the paper, fight over who is going to clean the toilet love? I mean, what the hell is going on?"
Greta and Lucy exchanged a look - Babs tended to get preachy when she'd had a few too many.
"Obviously we are doing something wrong!"
"Maybe we should take a course?" Greta suggested.
"Or fix our feng shui" Lucy added "I think one of my plants is blocking a mirror or something."
"No no no," Babs said, getting testy. "We have to do something much more drastic!"
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Later That Night
"Hey guys have you ever looked at your hands? I mean Really. Looked at your hands?"
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
On their way to glory
“Soooo?” Greta nosily asked. “Did ‘Mr. Man Hands’ measure up?”
Lucy smiled as sheepishly as a girl like her could. “Well, it was definitely the best academic sex I’ve had. But that’s not saying much, to be honest.” She took a swig from her flask and winked at her girlfriends. “Did you guys meet anyone interesting?” she asked, half jokingly.
Babs rolled her eyes hard. The party had been more painful for her than the other two. She just had no patience for pretentious academics. Somehow Greta and Lucy had learned to cope; Greta by being a great actress and Lucy by sleeping with half the academic community of the greater Toronto area.
“Fuck you, Lucy," said Babs, as they continued to walk towards the subway. "I would have never agreed to go if I had known the level of douchebaggery that was going to be involved." Her heels clacked loudly on the sidewalk. "Anyway, the night's not over yet, bitches. We’re going to the pub. Three pitchers of dirty draft is the only way to unclench my jaw.”
And so the three women walked into the night with hopes of drunken glory.
Lucy smiled as sheepishly as a girl like her could. “Well, it was definitely the best academic sex I’ve had. But that’s not saying much, to be honest.” She took a swig from her flask and winked at her girlfriends. “Did you guys meet anyone interesting?” she asked, half jokingly.
Babs rolled her eyes hard. The party had been more painful for her than the other two. She just had no patience for pretentious academics. Somehow Greta and Lucy had learned to cope; Greta by being a great actress and Lucy by sleeping with half the academic community of the greater Toronto area.
“Fuck you, Lucy," said Babs, as they continued to walk towards the subway. "I would have never agreed to go if I had known the level of douchebaggery that was going to be involved." Her heels clacked loudly on the sidewalk. "Anyway, the night's not over yet, bitches. We’re going to the pub. Three pitchers of dirty draft is the only way to unclench my jaw.”
And so the three women walked into the night with hopes of drunken glory.
Monday, April 21, 2008
those teeny hipster ankles
Lucy was, in fact, finished with man-hands in the under-the-stairs mini powder room. The unique leverage options of the sloped ceiling should not be underestimated. But the problem with these old quaint homes and old quaint mini powder rooms is that they are fucking old and the faucet leaked irritatingly and then at one particularly exuberant moment of bathroom bucking the glass doorhandle smashed off (man-hands has an immediate shiner on his right thigh). So Lucy is stuck in the loo and banging on the door like the claustrophic maniac she is when not distracted by coitus, and even though Greta and Babs know by now that's where she disappeared to, they don't realize all the violence is non sexual.
When Lucy finally busts out there is eyeliner drawn across her forehead, diluted by excessive sweating. Greta produces a lorazepam and the last dribble of scotch from her handbag. Babs offers deodorant. She also has a crumbled sports bra in her clutch and indicates Lucy should use it to wipe herself down.
They get the hell out of there and Greta trips on a tiny hipster squatting dreamily on the front porch.
When Lucy finally busts out there is eyeliner drawn across her forehead, diluted by excessive sweating. Greta produces a lorazepam and the last dribble of scotch from her handbag. Babs offers deodorant. She also has a crumbled sports bra in her clutch and indicates Lucy should use it to wipe herself down.
They get the hell out of there and Greta trips on a tiny hipster squatting dreamily on the front porch.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Party 2
"Yeah we're thinking about moving further east - you know to Leslieville. Though, not this far east of course - but, well pretty close i guess."
Babs sat with her head propped in one hand, trying to hide her emphatic boredom with a level look. She sat on the edge of a chair listening to some bland looking half of a couple explain their one life in the most basic of components.
How did she get herself into these situations? Stuck talking to a 30-something boring couple with boring jobs living a boring life with their stupid cat, bad taste - Babs imagined a lot of black iron wrought plant stands and candle holders in their beige living room.
"I'm sorry?" Babs blinked. The woman had asked her a question while she'd been busy hating - she really had to curb that, for all she knew these people could be sadomasochists and much more interesting than herself.
"I said what do you do?" the woman leaned over her husband/boyfriend/whipping boy.
Babs straightened a little, "oh I'm doing my articles now." Babs checked to make sure her cleavage wasn't showing. She was wearing a red dress that she bought for 8 dollars at Smart Set and it tended to slip when she wasn't looking.
"Oh, nice" the woman said, effectively ending the conversation and cementing Babs' initial impression of her; boring as shit.
Babs looked around for her friends. Greta with her shiny blond hair and many bangles was easy to spot - she was leaning against some door frame listening intently to some zany looking academic who was gesturing in sweeping motions while explaining something to her. Lucy was nowhere to be seen - Babs could only assume she was getting it on somewhere with that dude she'd said had big hands. What was it about Lucy and man hands anyway?
"Excuse me - I'm going to get a drink," said Babs.
Babs sat with her head propped in one hand, trying to hide her emphatic boredom with a level look. She sat on the edge of a chair listening to some bland looking half of a couple explain their one life in the most basic of components.
How did she get herself into these situations? Stuck talking to a 30-something boring couple with boring jobs living a boring life with their stupid cat, bad taste - Babs imagined a lot of black iron wrought plant stands and candle holders in their beige living room.
"I'm sorry?" Babs blinked. The woman had asked her a question while she'd been busy hating - she really had to curb that, for all she knew these people could be sadomasochists and much more interesting than herself.
"I said what do you do?" the woman leaned over her husband/boyfriend/whipping boy.
Babs straightened a little, "oh I'm doing my articles now." Babs checked to make sure her cleavage wasn't showing. She was wearing a red dress that she bought for 8 dollars at Smart Set and it tended to slip when she wasn't looking.
"Oh, nice" the woman said, effectively ending the conversation and cementing Babs' initial impression of her; boring as shit.
Babs looked around for her friends. Greta with her shiny blond hair and many bangles was easy to spot - she was leaning against some door frame listening intently to some zany looking academic who was gesturing in sweeping motions while explaining something to her. Lucy was nowhere to be seen - Babs could only assume she was getting it on somewhere with that dude she'd said had big hands. What was it about Lucy and man hands anyway?
"Excuse me - I'm going to get a drink," said Babs.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Party time, part 1
Greta had taken the news fairly well. There was only some minor screaming and melodramatic moaning before she agreed to go to the party. Lucy had promised her infinite material for mockery, since the party was going to be filled with socially awkward film studies majors. The only reason she herself wanted to go was because of the hot guy who’d been recently hired in the communications department. He looked fresh yet angry and had unusually large hands for an academic. When they’d met for the first time a few days ago, Lucy had been pleasantly surprised by the strength of his grip and the roughness of his skin as they shook hands. She immediately pictured a hot love affair, something she always felt she’d been robbed of in grad school, with all her ageing feminist profs. She planned to make up for lost time, and if it wasn’t with a student (it seemed like slim pickings in all of her classes this year), then it would have to be with the new guy with man hands.
The three of them arrived at the party wearing cocktail dresses and heels. Lucy carried a flask of jagermeister discreetly in her purse and offered swigs to her friends as they approached the dreaded party.
“Shit. I may as well,” said Babs as she took a giant and painful swig. “At this point, I’ll take all the help I can get.”
Greta looked disgustedly at the dark liquid Lucy was offering her and proceeded to pull out her own be bejeweled flask of scotch. That’s what Lucy loved about Greta; the fact that she was always surprising her.
“Here goes nothing,” Lucy said. “Oh and lay off the tall dark haired one with the flavour saver. I’ve got dibs.”
Babs and Greta looked at each other and rolled their eyes. So that was why Lucy was so desperate to attend this lame party. They should have guessed…
The three of them arrived at the party wearing cocktail dresses and heels. Lucy carried a flask of jagermeister discreetly in her purse and offered swigs to her friends as they approached the dreaded party.
“Shit. I may as well,” said Babs as she took a giant and painful swig. “At this point, I’ll take all the help I can get.”
Greta looked disgustedly at the dark liquid Lucy was offering her and proceeded to pull out her own be bejeweled flask of scotch. That’s what Lucy loved about Greta; the fact that she was always surprising her.
“Here goes nothing,” Lucy said. “Oh and lay off the tall dark haired one with the flavour saver. I’ve got dibs.”
Babs and Greta looked at each other and rolled their eyes. So that was why Lucy was so desperate to attend this lame party. They should have guessed…
Monday, April 14, 2008
And so
"Lucy i gotta go," Babs said, picking up her purse from the floor.
"What? We just got here" Lucy protested, "what's wrong?"
Babs fumbled with her laptop, jamming it into her purse. "I - I don't feel well." The truth was that she didn't. She had experienced a sudden wave of depression thinking about her own problems with men - namely her most recent that she refused to face. This was accompanied by a sudden lurch in her gut she knew was a sign of unpleasant times to come in the bathroom.
"You want me to walk you home?" Lucy stood up with Babs, concerned.
"No - I, it's ok." Babs smiled and yawned. "Listen I just need a nap. We're still on for tonight - did you call Greta about going to that party first?"
Lucy looked a little guilty. "Noooo. But i will, i promise!"
"Lucy..."
Babs, Lucy and their friend Greta, an aspiring abortionist beginning her first year of residency in family medicine, had made plans to go for drinks that evening. Lucy had unfortunately also agreed to attend a party at some fellow academic's house. The party was way out in the Beaches and judging by Lucy's description of the party goers, was extremely likely to be lame-ass. Babs had consented to go for an hour provided that Lucy break the news that they were going to Greta. Greta lived all the way on the other side of Toronto in High Park and it would likely take her an hour just to get to the party. Greta also had a flare for the dramatic.
Lucy laughed nervously and grabbed Babs' arm. "I'll tell her I promise. Meet you on the corner at 9 ok?"
Babs of little faith shook her head. "Ok, i'm going for a nap. See you in a few hours."
"What? We just got here" Lucy protested, "what's wrong?"
Babs fumbled with her laptop, jamming it into her purse. "I - I don't feel well." The truth was that she didn't. She had experienced a sudden wave of depression thinking about her own problems with men - namely her most recent that she refused to face. This was accompanied by a sudden lurch in her gut she knew was a sign of unpleasant times to come in the bathroom.
"You want me to walk you home?" Lucy stood up with Babs, concerned.
"No - I, it's ok." Babs smiled and yawned. "Listen I just need a nap. We're still on for tonight - did you call Greta about going to that party first?"
Lucy looked a little guilty. "Noooo. But i will, i promise!"
"Lucy..."
Babs, Lucy and their friend Greta, an aspiring abortionist beginning her first year of residency in family medicine, had made plans to go for drinks that evening. Lucy had unfortunately also agreed to attend a party at some fellow academic's house. The party was way out in the Beaches and judging by Lucy's description of the party goers, was extremely likely to be lame-ass. Babs had consented to go for an hour provided that Lucy break the news that they were going to Greta. Greta lived all the way on the other side of Toronto in High Park and it would likely take her an hour just to get to the party. Greta also had a flare for the dramatic.
Lucy laughed nervously and grabbed Babs' arm. "I'll tell her I promise. Meet you on the corner at 9 ok?"
Babs of little faith shook her head. "Ok, i'm going for a nap. See you in a few hours."
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Babs, the voice of reason
During her Masters, Lucy had landed the best supervisor in the department. He was a cute academic from Quebec who became a really mean drunk at departmental parties. Lucy found this endearing since she hated most of the people in her department anyway. He was slightly balding and had a notorious interest in large breasted woman. Lucy never thought twice about it until late one night, after a wine soaked dinner party, she received the corrected version of her second chapter from him via email. The comments he made throughout the paper were so clever and analytical that Lucy felt a familiar dampening of her panties. The following week, in her supervisor's office, things were unusually awkward. Suddenly Lucy couldn't make eye contact with him. And for some strange reason, she had worn her most restrictive of push-ups bras and a plunging v-neck sweater. As she exited his office after the meeting, she felt dizzy and sweaty. Oh shit, she thought. What the hell am I going to do? The obvious thing: Call Babs.
Luckily, Babs had a good (and well-groomed) head on her shoulders. She always managed to talk Lucy down from these compromising situations. After a couple of pitchers at the local dirt bar, Lucy had been convinced that sex with her supervisor in the copy room was in fact NOT a good idea.
With a sweet afternoon beer buzz and a successful "therapy session", Babs had felt on top the world. Now if only she could apply such common sense logic to the problems in her own life...
Luckily, Babs had a good (and well-groomed) head on her shoulders. She always managed to talk Lucy down from these compromising situations. After a couple of pitchers at the local dirt bar, Lucy had been convinced that sex with her supervisor in the copy room was in fact NOT a good idea.
With a sweet afternoon beer buzz and a successful "therapy session", Babs had felt on top the world. Now if only she could apply such common sense logic to the problems in her own life...
Intervention!
"Lucy - remember when you wanted to sleep with your supervisor?" Babs asked after her friend finished recounting her tale of a 36 hour date followed by no emails and a week long hangover.
Lucy blushed, taking a quick gulp of her coffee "yes."
Lucy blushed, taking a quick gulp of her coffee "yes."
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