Thursday, November 02, 2006

To be to be, almost 23

It has been another whirlwind week for me.

Spent a lovely weekend with Miss Claire, who lay curled around me like a comma in my bed through Sunday night and into Monday morning, which dawned so cold and bright that I felt just a single breath away from utterly unable to get out of bed. Blame it on that perfect body of hers, but she was impossibly warm and sweet and it was oh-so-hard to crawl out of bed and away from her. Claire's on vacation this week, I'm not. She drove me to work, kissed me and sent shivers down my spine, then went back to the boonies for the evening.

In a delightful turn-of-events, she came back to town on Tuesday for Halloween. She picked me up from Job Numero Dos out in suburbia (which was a very sweet thing for her to do since the girl has no sense of direction and it was a crazily busy night chock-full of traffic, trick-or-treating kids, and fireworks exploding all along the highway back to town). We actually got a hotel room downtown for the night, so we could party and get crazy until the wee hours of the morning without disturbing anyone. And we did just that.

Claire dressed up as a cop (see above). She was the sexiest police officer I'd ever seen, in tiny little shorts and a shirt mostly unbuttoned, with actual handcuffs, a little gun, a badge, and fake bullets. She was hot beyond belief, and in the two blocks it took us to walk to the club no less than four guys put their hands out oh-so-obediently so she could handcuff them. She did not oblige. The cop action was reserved for yours truly.

I went as Cleopatra, in clothes I borrowed from my mom's best friend, who is an artiste and total fashionista. Somehow that little yellow Betsy Johnson dress worked wonders, despite its not having been designed in any period even remotely close to Ancient Egypt. I was going for fashion over historical accuracy for once in my life. I did have a golden asp, snake earrings, and crazy eye makeup courtesy of Claire.

We couldn't get into the club since the lineup was more than two and a half hours long and after an hour standing in it Claire was shivering like a little bunny rabbit, so we went to the pub next door and got drunk with a gay guy wearing only a Starbucks apron and a tiny pair of briefs (he was adorable and he reminded me ever so slightly of the Queer Chef), a girl dressed as a cable guy, and a dude dressed as a caribou (only in Canada!). When the place closed we headed for the local strip club Claire loves. There were no strippers actually stripping, just a bad electronic rock band and lots of hilarious guys who got a real kick out of two drunk girls acting crazy and playing very unskilled billiards. Considering it was a strip club, the creep factor was surprisingly low. I've been there before, and most guys keep to themselves. Frankly, I've seen creepier guys on the Skytrain. Many of them are polite to a T and undress you with their eyes only.


We went back to the hotel around 1:00, and I didn't go to sleep until sometime past 3:00. I had to get up for work at 8:00, but somehow felt pretty bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and not in the slightest hungover the next morning. It must be the Clairemagic.

Claire had breakfast with me at the cafe around the corner from my school. Several of my students passed by and said hi to me, and more than one of them teased me about her later on. "Hey, is that your sister?" a couple of them asked. I just laughed, answered "Uh, no. Does she look like my sister??" One of them went further than that. The guy's a real smoothie, and always tells me I look good in the mornings. I think he's a sweetheart, actually. He said "ooohhh _________! (cute Korean mispronounciation of my first name). Who is dat beeeoootiful guhl in da cah?" I said that her name was Claire. He couldn't pronounce it, since such a name doesn't exist in Korean, so I spelled it out on the board: C-L-A-I-R-E. "Claire," I said. "that's Claire."

And that was it. I cannot tell a lie, but I wasn't thrilled by the idea of outing myself to my students either. I sometimes envy the other teachers and their ease of disclosure. One of them told me a few weeks ago that she had gotten engaged to her squeaky-clean Christian boyfriend over the weekend, and I gave her my appropriate and genuine congratulations, but secretly I felt just a teensy tiny little bit irritated. She didn't have to think about telling me. She just said it, as casually as "pass the dictionary," or "see you tomorrow." Grr. I can't tell my students that Claire's my girlfriend without making the whole thing into a big flaming political deal, and that's the last thing I want. So I keep my personal life private and my answers short and coy.

Must get to bed. Work tomorrow, then Claire for le weekend, then my birthday on Sunday.

Oh dear, I am to be 23 years old on November 5th. Can you believe it? I doubt I'll be getting away with this jail bait illusion for much longer. Haha.

Oh, and for those of you asked, yes, I did update my wish list on the sidebar. Amazon.ca is for shit, but there it is.

Hope everyone's having a lovely week,

N

by Nome at 11:11 PM
11 mews

    Welcome. This is the humble chronicle of my life & my thoughts on the world as I see it. If you know me in real life and want to keep my trust, PLEASE ASK BEFORE READING! I'm not accountable to you or to anyone else for what I say in these pages. Comments are much appreciated, but but insults and personal attacks will not be tolerated. Please respect privacy and anonymity - nicknames or pseudonyms only. This is my space to be an adult - kids should go elsewhere. Thanks, and enjoy.

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