Cocaine Princess here.
I've had a busy 4 days. Here's what I did.
MONDAY
Sunday night I fell asleep at 7:30pm. The past couple of nights before I had been dozing off in the early hours of the day. I can’t explain the reasoning behind it. I’m just grateful for it.
I had awoken at 2:30am with a craving for waffles. I left my bedroom and headed downstairs into the kitchen. I open the freezer and a gust of cold Arctic-like air hits my face as I look for the box of waffles. All I could find were Eggos. “Where are my square shaped ones?” I said out loud. I have a preference for the square kind over the round. Risking frost bite on my fingers I moved a couple of things around hoping Aunt Jemima was underneath the bag of frozen french fries or hiding behind the box of chicken breasts.
Given that she was nowhere to be found and because I still had a hankering for waffles I popped two Eggos in the toaster and waited. While waiting I felt like eating some eggs. I like putting scrambled eggs in-between waffles and eating it like a sandwich. I call it a waffle egg-wich. (Yes not a very creative name I know) Having eggs would have required me waking up “A” and believe me I was tempted. I didn’t though. I pulled out a jar of orange marmalade instead.
TUESDAY
I had awoken at 2:30am with a craving for waffles. I left my bedroom and headed downstairs into the kitchen. I open the freezer and a gust of cold Arctic-like air hits my face as I look for the box of waffles. All I could find were Eggos. “Where are my square shaped ones?” I said out loud. I have a preference for the square kind over the round. Risking frost bite on my fingers I moved a couple of things around hoping Aunt Jemima was underneath the bag of frozen french fries or hiding behind the box of chicken breasts.
Given that she was nowhere to be found and because I still had a hankering for waffles I popped two Eggos in the toaster and waited. While waiting I felt like eating some eggs. I like putting scrambled eggs in-between waffles and eating it like a sandwich. I call it a waffle egg-wich. (Yes not a very creative name I know) Having eggs would have required me waking up “A” and believe me I was tempted. I didn’t though. I pulled out a jar of orange marmalade instead.
TUESDAY
I’m sitting all cozy on the sofa with a bowl of Corn Pops and watching The Jerry Springer Show. Topic: I’m In Love With My Third Cousin.
The doorbell rings. I go to answer it without checking. BAD MOVE! It was Poodle Lady. Now you know when it comes to Poodle Lady I need to provide you all with a fashion recap of what she was wearing: black capris, a white T-shirt and a Nike cap. Her poodle aka “her baby” was dressed in a matching black and white outfit and even had a tiny cap on its head. She had her baby in a dog carrier bag that was hanging off her shoulder. In her hands was a clipboard. “What is this woman petitioning now for?” I’m thinking to myself. After giving me a full head to toe look which I find extremely creepy whenever she does it, this is how the conversation went down:
Shoving the clipboard in my face
Poodle Lady: Write down your email address.
Poodle Lady is a very direct and blunt human being. She’s not the ‘hello, how are you’ type person. I on the other hand am.
Me: Good morning. How have you been?
She repeated the same question this time while tapping the pen on the clipboard.
Poodle Lady: I need your email address.
Slight pause.
Me: And why do you need it?
Poodle Lady proceeded to explain she thought it would save her time sending out one mass email to the neighborhood rather than going door to door with her petitions or whatever else (unimportant) message she needed to notify the residents about. I wasn’t about to give her my email. Hmm.......I thought about this for a minute. Maybe giving her my email wasn’t such a bad thing. Not only would it save her time but it would save me time from listening to her and her (meaningless) campaigns and the best part, I wouldn’t have to come face to face with her anymore. Seriously the less contact I have with Poodle Lady the better. The downside? Wasting time reading her emails. Then I thought I wouldn’t need to read them. I could just mark her email off as junk mail so my inbox wouldn’t be cluttered. I have never once supported any of her petitions seeing how each and every one of them is outrageous. Take for example, she once tried petitioning to get the town to pass a law that would force all dog owners to dress their dogs up in doggie clothing wear.
I took the pen not realizing it was attached to the clipboard by a chain, you know like the ones you find at the bank.
Poodle Lady: I did that in case anybody has a case of sticky fingers.
Good Lord! If it was a Tibaldi Pen I could understand but it was a plain old regular BIC ballpoint.
The doorbell rings. I go to answer it without checking. BAD MOVE! It was Poodle Lady. Now you know when it comes to Poodle Lady I need to provide you all with a fashion recap of what she was wearing: black capris, a white T-shirt and a Nike cap. Her poodle aka “her baby” was dressed in a matching black and white outfit and even had a tiny cap on its head. She had her baby in a dog carrier bag that was hanging off her shoulder. In her hands was a clipboard. “What is this woman petitioning now for?” I’m thinking to myself. After giving me a full head to toe look which I find extremely creepy whenever she does it, this is how the conversation went down:
Shoving the clipboard in my face
Poodle Lady: Write down your email address.
Poodle Lady is a very direct and blunt human being. She’s not the ‘hello, how are you’ type person. I on the other hand am.
Me: Good morning. How have you been?
She repeated the same question this time while tapping the pen on the clipboard.
Poodle Lady: I need your email address.
Slight pause.
Me: And why do you need it?
Poodle Lady proceeded to explain she thought it would save her time sending out one mass email to the neighborhood rather than going door to door with her petitions or whatever else (unimportant) message she needed to notify the residents about. I wasn’t about to give her my email. Hmm.......I thought about this for a minute. Maybe giving her my email wasn’t such a bad thing. Not only would it save her time but it would save me time from listening to her and her (meaningless) campaigns and the best part, I wouldn’t have to come face to face with her anymore. Seriously the less contact I have with Poodle Lady the better. The downside? Wasting time reading her emails. Then I thought I wouldn’t need to read them. I could just mark her email off as junk mail so my inbox wouldn’t be cluttered. I have never once supported any of her petitions seeing how each and every one of them is outrageous. Take for example, she once tried petitioning to get the town to pass a law that would force all dog owners to dress their dogs up in doggie clothing wear.
I took the pen not realizing it was attached to the clipboard by a chain, you know like the ones you find at the bank.
Poodle Lady: I did that in case anybody has a case of sticky fingers.
Good Lord! If it was a Tibaldi Pen I could understand but it was a plain old regular BIC ballpoint.
Poodle Lady: Write in legible letters. No chicken scratches.
I printed very neatly the address and returned the clipboard back to her, including the pen.
Before she left she asked,
“Which one of those nasty children put up the “Dear Wylie E. Coyote sign?”
Me: I don't know.
And that was the truth. Even if I did know I wasn’t about to squeal. It was a harmless and humorous practical joke.
Poodle Lady: I blame the parents. Children are too loose. They need discipline and obedience.
After giving me another head to toe examination she left.
Oh yeah, I guess I should mention the email address I gave was my sister’s.
WEDNESDAY
My sister took the day off. Her health card was up for renewal and that meant a voyage to the city. We left after rush hour so traffic was a breeze. We enter into the building, step into the elevator and push the white round button with the #16 marked on it. At the start we were the only two inside but the elevator kept making stops on nearly every floor forcing us to be practically pinned against the back as more and more people got on.
Somewhere along the 8th-10th floor an individual came aboard with a bad case of b.o. Oh boy! When you’re cornered in a tiny space among a group of people and one of them has b.o. you do everything you can to prevent from fainting. Not me. I had the urge to play detective and was determined to find out who was Pepé Le Pew. My only clue, the unpleasant smell was coming from the left side of the elevator so I had it narrowed down to 5 possible suspects. Hmm, what was the reason behind that bad b.o? Was Pepé Le Pew in such a hurry they forgot to apply deodorant? Before I had a chance to pinpoint it down to one person the elevator stopped on the 16th floor. As soon as the doors opened a crowd of people were waiting to get on. Why do people do that? Just stand a few meters back so those of us who are getting off can.
Unlike the time I had to renew my card, it took “A” under a half hour.
Afterwards we decided to have lunch and then do a little shopping. It’s always better to eat first and then shop. (A fantastic and fun way to burn off calories) Those of you who have been following my blog know by now my sister and I are opposites in nearly everything. And one of the things we can never agree on is where to dine. I have my dining preferences and she has hers. Typically whenever we go out we take turns. She reminded me the last time we were in the city I had chosen the place so it was her turn to pick. The food court in the mall was her selection. I tried persuading her with no luck to dine in one of the finer establishments located on the upper level.
“And you call me stubborn,” I said.
“That’s because darling you still the crown,” she replied.
We were bantering back and forth while trying to find a vacant table which brings me to another reason I dislike eating in the food court. There is never an available table and if there is there are never any chairs.
“If it was my turn to pick we wouldn’t be walking around looking for a place to sit. Instead we’d be taken to our lovely decorative table, helped into our seats and be handed menus in leather folders with the restaurant’s name monogrammed on the front.”
My sister gave the following response and I quote-
“Child this is not up for debate. We are going to have lunch here. End of discussion.”
She spotted an empty table and by a miracle it was equipped with two chairs.
“There’s a free table over there,” she said.
“Where?”
“Over there, look.”
So I did.
“By the restrooms?” I questioned. “Yuck.”
“Get moving pudgy.”
I gasped at her calling me “pudgy” while she pushed me towards the table. I took out a disposable handy wipe to clean the table and seat and then sat down.
Me: I don't know.
And that was the truth. Even if I did know I wasn’t about to squeal. It was a harmless and humorous practical joke.
Poodle Lady: I blame the parents. Children are too loose. They need discipline and obedience.
After giving me another head to toe examination she left.
Oh yeah, I guess I should mention the email address I gave was my sister’s.
WEDNESDAY
My sister took the day off. Her health card was up for renewal and that meant a voyage to the city. We left after rush hour so traffic was a breeze. We enter into the building, step into the elevator and push the white round button with the #16 marked on it. At the start we were the only two inside but the elevator kept making stops on nearly every floor forcing us to be practically pinned against the back as more and more people got on.
Somewhere along the 8th-10th floor an individual came aboard with a bad case of b.o. Oh boy! When you’re cornered in a tiny space among a group of people and one of them has b.o. you do everything you can to prevent from fainting. Not me. I had the urge to play detective and was determined to find out who was Pepé Le Pew. My only clue, the unpleasant smell was coming from the left side of the elevator so I had it narrowed down to 5 possible suspects. Hmm, what was the reason behind that bad b.o? Was Pepé Le Pew in such a hurry they forgot to apply deodorant? Before I had a chance to pinpoint it down to one person the elevator stopped on the 16th floor. As soon as the doors opened a crowd of people were waiting to get on. Why do people do that? Just stand a few meters back so those of us who are getting off can.
Unlike the time I had to renew my card, it took “A” under a half hour.
Afterwards we decided to have lunch and then do a little shopping. It’s always better to eat first and then shop. (A fantastic and fun way to burn off calories) Those of you who have been following my blog know by now my sister and I are opposites in nearly everything. And one of the things we can never agree on is where to dine. I have my dining preferences and she has hers. Typically whenever we go out we take turns. She reminded me the last time we were in the city I had chosen the place so it was her turn to pick. The food court in the mall was her selection. I tried persuading her with no luck to dine in one of the finer establishments located on the upper level.
“And you call me stubborn,” I said.
“That’s because darling you still the crown,” she replied.
We were bantering back and forth while trying to find a vacant table which brings me to another reason I dislike eating in the food court. There is never an available table and if there is there are never any chairs.
“If it was my turn to pick we wouldn’t be walking around looking for a place to sit. Instead we’d be taken to our lovely decorative table, helped into our seats and be handed menus in leather folders with the restaurant’s name monogrammed on the front.”
My sister gave the following response and I quote-
“Child this is not up for debate. We are going to have lunch here. End of discussion.”
She spotted an empty table and by a miracle it was equipped with two chairs.
“There’s a free table over there,” she said.
“Where?”
“Over there, look.”
So I did.
“By the restrooms?” I questioned. “Yuck.”
“Get moving pudgy.”
I gasped at her calling me “pudgy” while she pushed me towards the table. I took out a disposable handy wipe to clean the table and seat and then sat down.
“My chair is wobbly,” I stated.
“Then switch with me,” my sister offered.
“No thank you. I’m actually finding it quite relaxing doing a balancing act,” I replied.
“Then switch with me,” my sister offered.
“No thank you. I’m actually finding it quite relaxing doing a balancing act,” I replied.
“What do you want to eat?” she asked.
I didn't answer even though she asked me the question twice.
“Are you giving me the silent, darling?”
I didn't answer even though she asked me the question twice.
“Are you giving me the silent, darling?”
After 30 seconds-
“You said I was fat. I am not fat so how dare you call me that, ” I said with my voice almost cracking.
“What? When did I call you fat?”
“When you called me pudgy.” I answered
“I meant it as a term of endearment because I’m having a flashback to when you were a little girl. Honestly I think I had an easier time dealing with you back then, than now.”
“You said I was fat. I am not fat so how dare you call me that, ” I said with my voice almost cracking.
“What? When did I call you fat?”
“When you called me pudgy.” I answered
“I meant it as a term of endearment because I’m having a flashback to when you were a little girl. Honestly I think I had an easier time dealing with you back then, than now.”
Yes, yes I admit it I was giving her a hard time just for kicks.
“I ask you again, what do you want to eat?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have a menu in front of me,” I replied.
“Alright Sbarro’s pizza it is,” she said getting out of the chair. “I’ll see if they have any slices with pineapples. If there’s no Dr. Pepper is a Coke a suitable substitute your highness?”
“You’re teasing me; you know I don’t like being teased.”
“I ask you again, what do you want to eat?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have a menu in front of me,” I replied.
“Alright Sbarro’s pizza it is,” she said getting out of the chair. “I’ll see if they have any slices with pineapples. If there’s no Dr. Pepper is a Coke a suitable substitute your highness?”
“You’re teasing me; you know I don’t like being teased.”
As she was standing in line “A” looked back and gave me a smile. In return I gave her my Queen Elizabeth style wave. Hey I thought it was only fitting since she called me her Highness.
THURSDAY
Yesterday afternoon the doorbell kept ringing every 10-15 minutes. No it wasn’t Poodle Lady. It was my neighbor’s nanny from next door. She was playing ball with one of them and the ball kept flying and landing into my backyard. By the 6th time I went out I decided to leave the gate unlocked so they could retrieve the ball themselves. The other little boy was busy leaping into the air on his trampoline.
“Come on in,” he said
“Next time, okay?” I said back.
He got out of the trampoline and came running over and in a breathless little voice said,
“You said that last time. You promise and you never do. Come on.”
He grabbed my hand and proceeded to pull me into his garden.
“Wait, where’s your dog? He’s not out is he?”
“He’s inside. Want me to go get him?”
“No, no, no,” I said. “He’s indoors, that’s wonderful.”
Oh my God I had a blast on the trampoline! It’s so much fun! And what an awesome way to shake some of the stress away. I wish I had only done it sooner. If anyone of you is ever presented with the opportunity to bounce around in one DO IT! I highly recommend it.
After a long and hard productive 4 days all I can say is,
My loyal and dear readers it’s finally F-R-I-D-A-Y!
THURSDAY
Yesterday afternoon the doorbell kept ringing every 10-15 minutes. No it wasn’t Poodle Lady. It was my neighbor’s nanny from next door. She was playing ball with one of them and the ball kept flying and landing into my backyard. By the 6th time I went out I decided to leave the gate unlocked so they could retrieve the ball themselves. The other little boy was busy leaping into the air on his trampoline.
“Come on in,” he said
“Next time, okay?” I said back.
He got out of the trampoline and came running over and in a breathless little voice said,
“You said that last time. You promise and you never do. Come on.”
He grabbed my hand and proceeded to pull me into his garden.
“Wait, where’s your dog? He’s not out is he?”
“He’s inside. Want me to go get him?”
“No, no, no,” I said. “He’s indoors, that’s wonderful.”
Oh my God I had a blast on the trampoline! It’s so much fun! And what an awesome way to shake some of the stress away. I wish I had only done it sooner. If anyone of you is ever presented with the opportunity to bounce around in one DO IT! I highly recommend it.
After a long and hard productive 4 days all I can say is,
My loyal and dear readers it’s finally F-R-I-D-A-Y!
Whatever your plans are have a cheeky weekend. I plan to.-x
XOXOXOXO,
Cocaine Princess
Cocaine Princess
