One gay gals' musings and observations while travelling on the streetcar
“Total Devastation”
It’s been a busy couple of days for S and I in terms of entertaining friends. Our Friday night plans were a bit impromptu as our friend K let us know she’d be coming into the City but didn’t have any definite ideas on what she wanted to do. She had mentioned going shopping but in the end, we decided to stay home and order in.
We caught up on K’s dating adventures; she’s been on a few dates with one guy and it appears to be going well so far. She’s a great gal; why she’s single is really baffling so S and I are hoping that she finds someone who makes her happy.
When dinner arrived, we collected our dishes and retreated to the downstairs living room so that we could watch some TV. There wasn’t much on so we settled on “What Not to Wear.” We caught two shows, one where the woman had absolutely no self-esteem and kept crying anytime someone told her she was beautiful. The other show had a woman who had way too much self confidence and had become a nudist after being in a restrictive relationship. The transformations were interesting to watch although the make-up on the first girl was a bit on the heavy side.
After the second episode, K decided to call it a night. She had brought Hank with her and he’d spent the evening being growled at by the gal pal who didn’t appreciate having him in her space. It’s pretty funny to see, actually. Hank’s more than double her size, but he’s totally her bitch.
S got Saturday off to a really early start as she got up at four am to put a roast in the crock pot. It was a massive roast with the bones in it so S calculated that it would need at least 12 hours if we wanted it to be ready for our friends’ Darla and Cathy arrival at four in the afternoon. I had promised to get up with her to get the roast ready but I totally slept through the alarm.
By the time I got up at eight, S was getting ready to head out to an acupuncture appointment. The gal pal and I went out for our walk; when we got back, S was just about ready to go.
I enjoyed some sweet bread and coffee before beginning to tidy up the main floor of the house. I went through the mail that had piled up and took it up to the office to sort through, file and shred. When S got back, she let me know that she’d written me on my Blackberry asking if I wanted to go grocery shopping. I hadn’t seen the message so I asked for a few minutes to get ready to go.
As we pulled into the parking lot at the grocery store, S let me know that she was hungry. “This isn’t going to end well,” I said, exiting the car. Surprisingly, there weren’t too many impulse additions to the cart from S, nor were there any rage incidents.
While passing the baked goods section, S purchased some lemon meringue and chocolate mousse tarts. The girl behind the counter gave us the box with the tarts in it and we headed to a check-out.
We took care in loading the groceries into the car so as not to squish the tarts. When we got home, I went ahead and unlocked the house door while S parked the car. I brought the box of tarts with me and placed them on the deck’s handrail while I went back to the car to bring in the rest of the groceries with S.
I had a package of paper towels and two bags full of groceries with me. I was able to grab the box of tarts on my way in. Not wanting to make two trips back to the door, I placed the box (precariously) on top of the paper towels while I locked the door. Slam!
I looked down when I heard the noise and found the box of tarts upside down on the floor. “Oh, Liz,” I heard S say from the kitchen.
“I’m sure they’re fine!” I said, knowing they probably weren’t.
I brought the groceries and the box of tarts into the kitchen. I placed them on the counter while I put away my coat and shoes. S began to open the box and then announced, “Yep, total devastation.”
I knew I fucked up by dropping the tarts and S had every right to be angry. “It’s just Darla and Cathy, we can still serve them. It’s not like they’re no longer edible,” I argued.
“Look at this!” She said pointing to the box. “One of the chocolate tarts is lopsided and there’s no meringue left on the lemon tarts.”
“I’ll make a banana loaf,” I offered.
“No, I wanted to have a light dessert after a heavy meal,” S said. “Now what are we going to do?”
“Let’s put away the groceries,” I replied, trying to diffuse the situation.
With the groceries away, I hit up Google Maps to locate the different bakeries in our ‘hood. Luckily for me, there are a few and all within walking distance. The first place I went to only had lemon tarts, no meringue. The second place didn’t have lemon meringue either; but they had freshly made lemon mousse tarts.
I wrote S on her Blackberry asking how lemon mousse tarts sounded.
“Yummy!” she replied. Knowing I’d have to make up for having dropped the first set of desserts, I threw in a couple of chocolate cupcakes for S and I to enjoy that afternoon.
Back home, S and I finished tidying up and getting the appetizers and dinner ready. I hopped in the shower and got myself ready.
When Darla and Cathy arrived, we settled down in our living area with drinks in hand; Coors Light beers for the gals and wine for S and I. Darla and Cathy bring a cooler of beer with them whenever they visit. I guess they know that none of their friends drink Coors and they wouldn’t dare drink anything imported so they haul around their own beer. It’s pretty redneck.
Not sure how the roast beef was going to turn out, we also made a roast chicken as a back-up. The twelve hours in the crock pot must’ve done the trick though as the beef was delicious. Dinner was a hit with everyone.
We don’t see Darla and Cathy very often as they live in the ‘burbs and aren’t fond of driving into the city. Plus, they tend to be home bodies so if we were to invite them down to go shopping or window shop in the neighbourhood, they’d likely decline.
Yesterday’s visit was a nice one as Cathy seems to have mellowed out in her abrasive tone. It was nice enough to make me want to spend more time with Darla and Cathy.
The gals have three hyper dogs that they’d left at home so they called it a night fairly early to get home to the dogs. When they left, S and I tidied up the kitchen and started the dishwasher.
When the dishwasher was finishing its cycle, S noticed a strange smell. I thought perhaps it had to do with food being in the dishwasher. As the time progressed, the smell worsened. “I don’t like that smell. It smells like my old dishwasher did just before it caught fire,” S said.
It was definitely getting stronger and it smelled like burnt plastic. Worrying about what was causing the smell; we opened the dishwasher and saw that a plastic spoon was on the bottom, very close to the heating element. Sure enough, the spoon was stuck to the element and was totally melted to it. I cleaned out what I could and left the rest until I could think of a better way to clean it. Meanwhile, the dishes inside the washer also smelt like burnt plastic so we’ll need to figure out how to get them clean.
With that mystery figured out, we called it a night. Another busy day put behind us.
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| Print article | This entry was posted by liz on April 11, 2010 at 9:31 PM, and is filed under S, friends, the gal pal. Follow any responses to this post through RSS 2.0. Both comments and pings are currently closed. |
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