My friend, Anne is ridiculously skilled at the art of non-abusive coercion, which of course may be one of the most valuable skills that one can have.
For example? This past July she managed to convince me to leave the comfort of my own bed and drive twenty-five minutes to a soiree in Northeast Portland by simply texting, “David made roasted vegetables.” Let me just say it takes true skill to be able to select exactly which words it will take for me to reconsider my seven previous “No’s.”
Another example? Brunch this past Sunday. In most circumstances, brunch would rank #2 on most preferable activities to be engaging in at 10:45 am on a Sunday; however this Sunday was a little different…
…So a slight preface: February has been a rough month with this Mercury retrograde PMSing all over my life. I spent a mini fortune flying to San Francisco at the beginning of the month hoping to spend my forty-eight hours catching up with several dear friends over flutes of Clicquot, glamorous brunches, Neiman’s shoe department, and at all my favourite spots in Marin but instead ended up violently sick watching a Shahs of Sunset marathon in my hotel room while sipping a flute full of airborne and sulking to my mother on the phone.
Then, upon returning to Portland I developed a cold, two third degree burns, a lost diamond earring, some online shopping mishaps, an exacerbated split end problem (which will be eradicated come the end of this week), and several other unfortunate turns of events.
Now yes, I realise I am veering a couple of lanes off topic, but the way I tend to cope with disaster is by distracting myself until I am so exhausted that I can fall asleep without the threat of a single thought to keep me awake. So in short, I have been going out a sprinkle too frequently to the point where I would have to shower and loofah-abuse three times in one day to maintain no more than one stamp per wrist.
Saturday for instance was such a night; I started off the night at an Honours Banquet event at my Alma Mater alongside my parents and several of my friends keeping it classy in pearls and Lanvin…and somehow by 1:26 am I was at The Silver Dollar talking to strangers about cyborg anthropology and my incredible luck with parking with Anne, Kelsey, Megan, and Erica.
2am eventually rolled around and we headed back to Anne and Kelsey’s apartment; proceeded to make really bland popcorn and cookies and phone calls and next thing you know it’s 4:30 am and a sleepover and since I am atrocious and phobic of sleepovers and in a pencil skirt I very unsubtly sneak out to go home, proceed to late night tweet about 4:30 am traffic patterns until I crash with my laptop still open somewhere in the vicinity of 5:05.
Then it comes. The text. Who in their right mind that is not a parental unit or abroad texts at 9:55 am on a Sunday?
Anne: Did you make it home okay? Also was it your idea to make cookies?
Me: Yes and no.
Anne: My elbows hurt and I can’t find a single pair of matching socks. How are you?
Me: I’m exhausted and depressed and want to run away to Finland. Is everyone still there?
Anne: Yeah. They are brushing their teeth. Get your ass over to brunch. You’ll feel better.
Me: Brunch? Seriously? What time and where? My parents might want me to do my taxes.
Anne: Like now. We are slowly moseying out the door.
Me: Too soon. Sorry. Still in pencil skirt have fun
Anne: We’re moving like an iceberg on xanax. Come.
Anne: 10:30 Simpatica. You washed your hair last night anyways!
Me: I live a half hour away and mascara still on cheeks so too soon have fun
Anne: Eye make up remover and your warby parkers take 17 seconds. You can show up at 10:45, we’re all in yoga pants and north faces and you won’t run into anyone attractive.
…And the previous weekend’s brunch at Clyde Common which for the record has tremendously improved since our first jaunt a couple of months back:
For the record, Sunday brunch was a fantastic decision. None of us really talked to each other during the 45 minute wait nor while waiting for our food (except for Corina who was not present for the previous night’s events) ; we mostly all just scrolled through tweets on our phones and refilled our coffee mugs without making eye contact. However once our burgers and fried chicken arrived we all became quite lively and animated and extremely willing to provide one another with comforting words ,bites for bites, and insightful advice for our various emotional and physical ailments du jour.
Then I went to the car wash, washed off the last of my stamps, and went to bed.
And how was your February?