The First Signs of Spring

shortsIt used to be robins, today, it’s men in cycling gear.  Something that can’t be unseen no matter how fast you look away or how hard you blink.

Spring in the city makes me want to take a road trip, sit by a window and watch in fascination as people take to the sunshine and streets, defying Old Man Winter’s refusal to pass the baton to Mother Nature.

Feeling a bit frisky and sorry for myself at the same time, I took myself out for lunch and enjoyed one of my favourite meals.

“Are you waiting for someone?” My server asked, using a tone which indicated that she assumed I was indeed, waiting for someone.  She was right and she was wrong. Waiting for her? Yes. Waiting for someone to join me at my table by the window? No.

“No, I know exactly what I’d like to order I said.” And so it went, in an efficient manner, I was served a glass of one of my very favourite reds  ( Grifalco Aglianico del Vulture 2010) together with my prosciutto, gorgonzola and pear pizza.

All around me, the restaurant on Toronto’s Queen West hip-strip was hopping with foot-traffic. As I savoured the first bites of my pizza, I was struck with one of the rare, but quite lasting moments of contentment that only a single woman can know.  Le sigh….the world was good and gracious, and manageable in that moment. I do know what I want, I thought to myself, repeating a line used on me by a boy-man last week,  and that’s a damn good quality to have. Decisive women are  rare, wild and beautiful.

A Buddhist quote about finding one’s equal in love passed through my wine focused mind. It says something about being better off alone than being in relationship with a moron (my words not Buddha’s). I had to agree, although steamy affairs of the heart are also under-rated as tonics for sallow complexions and dull skin.

Having not had breakfast, the wine took effect with speed. “The more to entertain yourself with my dear“, it seemed to wink from the glass. Thus I was struck with the need to share one of my top ten lists with you my darlings.

Let’s call it, my Ostara Musings on How Weird We Are…

1) Let’s start with men in cycling gear. Not just the shorts that make their penises look like hamsters poking their noses out of a stack of wood shavings, but the entire ensemble. Pointed shoes? Pointy helmets? Clinging wind breakers? Seriously. Men! This is not a good look. Ever.

2) This whole new media-objectifying-men’s-bodies is amusing, although the resulting skeletal-man-who-pays-way-too-much-attention-to-his-facial-hair is a bit emasculating. Cue the lumberjack number, and bring me some nice thick thighs please won’t you?

3) What’s with Asian women in pleated skirts and fedora’s? Cute, but overdone. I believe that hats, like stage props, must have a definite purpose or be left in the closet.

4) Somehow parents have missed out on teaching kids manners, and gone straight for extending their egos to raise narcissistic little bots. As I was happily munching, some pretentious three-footer came in and announced, “The reservation is under MacKenzie”. Really?  How about a polite salutation you crude little turd?

5)We all talk about dreams and travel and great loves, but very few people really have the balls to take risks any more. Stop talking at your minimum-wage-water-coolers and go do something. Make wild-passionate-love to someone who’s all wrong, pack a bag and get on a plane….Security comes at a heavy cost to our freedom and sense of wonder.

6) Grammar snobs are as annoying as fraying elastic in your panties. When someone is expressing an emotion, thought or sharing anything with you, it’s just bad form to correct their grammar. It’s also a passive aggressive way to make yourself feel better. Today, I did however find a word that I fell in love with, although will likely never use outside of this post; myotahpea (n): the feeling of shame you experience on behalf of another person when they do something stupid or embarrassing. Kinda like when I heard that little kid announce his last name for reservations as if it were Windsor, and  what I felt each time I saw some guy’s skinny legs and shriveled pee-pee stuffed in bike pants.

7) People wish for things they never go after. Wee-ird. Not me. I wish for Rheo Thompson milk chocolate covered cherries, and I damn well drive there and get them. Road trip to Stratford next weekend anyone???

…..I usually stop at ten when I’m making lists, but I think I’ve given you enough to ponder for a Sunday evening…

Stay well, be happy.

 

 

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