The Saga continues:
To finish up my modelling concerns briefly, my line did not interrupt the curves. 'Nuff said.
On a semi-related note, I'm sick. I actually had 3 modelling gigs this week, including the full-day, 6-hour one on Monday, which is unusual since normally I'm lucky to get 3 sessions a month. I live relatively close to the college, which means I usually plan my walking/train ride time poorly and end up running to get to the class on time, and then having my sweat freeze in some of the cooler classrooms. This, combined with evening rehearsals, poor sleep and poor diet, left me an achy, dry-hacking mess for the weekend.
Guess who'd had a second date planned for Friday?
It had been perfect. My friend Angela had invited me up for a Mainstage dance performance at the university. I decided to invite Heather along as well and give her a little taste of local dance culcha. Angela also had a sculpture display going up and was willing to give us the sneak-peek tour before the show. Heather was really looking forward to it as well, and invited me to meet her at work so we could spend a few hours together beforehand wandering downtown, getting something to eat, and basically hanging out and continuing the getting-to-know-you dance. I'd been looking forward to this all week.
Enter achy, dry-hacking mess.
My usual approach to dealing with this is hot water, in the form of teas and baths, in an attempt to boil the evil humours from my body. I don't think it actually cures anything, but it seems to accelerate the process and I recover sooner. Unfortunately, 12 hours was too tight a turnaround. I called all points to let them know what was happening, but was too proud to cancel, sure I could have my weakness licked before end of business day (I had nothing booked Friday but the date) so I told Heather we'd just meet up later. However, the test-walk to attain symptom treatments started out lovely and ended up exhausting, proving that I was crazy to think I could keep it up until late-night.
I called Heather and told her I'd better give the night a miss. She asked if she could do anything like bring over soup. I chuckled and told her it wouldn't be necessary and called up Angela with the hope she could find someone to take our tickets.
After I hung up, I realized I was home alone on a Friday with very little food, and that in all probability I would end up going another week without seeing Heather, so I mustered up all my selfish desire into a tight, coherent beam, called Heather up and asked her if that soup option was still open.
It was.
I hose myself off for company's sake and Heather shows up like an angel with funky glasses. She also has a bag with 3 different soups (she apologizes for not having time to make homemade), buns, fruit salad (homemade, "for Vitamin C"), a package of 2-bite brownies, and a bunch of movies, including Koyaanisqatsi, Phil the Alien and What the Bleep do we Know? I made sure my thanks and appreciation for her effort was louder than her apologies for misjudging the distance to my house and showing up "late".
I heated up a tomato bisque (regaling her with my restaurant service days when lobster bisque was my main nutritional source), popped some corn (she'd already eaten, but there's always room for a little popcorn), and fired up Crash, since neither of us had seen it yet. Not big on romance or comedy, that one, but definitely an excellent film.
Heather was good enough to keep me company on the couch, even if it was on opposite ends, what with my possibly-contagious condition. Despite that, she was still willing to give me a hug before heading home. I made sure to call her to see if she got home alright, but ended up getting her machine and leaving a message. Turns out she got her own groceries on the way home and didn't want to return my call for fear of waking me, so she wrote me an email with the above details.
So not only is she smart and attractive, she's almost painfully thoughtful and I've GOT to do something nice for her once I'm back in fighting trim. Our conversation turned to Latin dancing, and I can think of 3 places in Calgary that offer that off the top of my head. I am not above suggestions from the general populace, though, because as you can see, my plans can go seriously awry.
Overall, though, that was a good night. Now working through my pain while a Brazilian Carnavale rages around me, that's another thing entirely.
To finish up my modelling concerns briefly, my line did not interrupt the curves. 'Nuff said.
On a semi-related note, I'm sick. I actually had 3 modelling gigs this week, including the full-day, 6-hour one on Monday, which is unusual since normally I'm lucky to get 3 sessions a month. I live relatively close to the college, which means I usually plan my walking/train ride time poorly and end up running to get to the class on time, and then having my sweat freeze in some of the cooler classrooms. This, combined with evening rehearsals, poor sleep and poor diet, left me an achy, dry-hacking mess for the weekend.
Guess who'd had a second date planned for Friday?
It had been perfect. My friend Angela had invited me up for a Mainstage dance performance at the university. I decided to invite Heather along as well and give her a little taste of local dance culcha. Angela also had a sculpture display going up and was willing to give us the sneak-peek tour before the show. Heather was really looking forward to it as well, and invited me to meet her at work so we could spend a few hours together beforehand wandering downtown, getting something to eat, and basically hanging out and continuing the getting-to-know-you dance. I'd been looking forward to this all week.
Enter achy, dry-hacking mess.
My usual approach to dealing with this is hot water, in the form of teas and baths, in an attempt to boil the evil humours from my body. I don't think it actually cures anything, but it seems to accelerate the process and I recover sooner. Unfortunately, 12 hours was too tight a turnaround. I called all points to let them know what was happening, but was too proud to cancel, sure I could have my weakness licked before end of business day (I had nothing booked Friday but the date) so I told Heather we'd just meet up later. However, the test-walk to attain symptom treatments started out lovely and ended up exhausting, proving that I was crazy to think I could keep it up until late-night.
I called Heather and told her I'd better give the night a miss. She asked if she could do anything like bring over soup. I chuckled and told her it wouldn't be necessary and called up Angela with the hope she could find someone to take our tickets.
After I hung up, I realized I was home alone on a Friday with very little food, and that in all probability I would end up going another week without seeing Heather, so I mustered up all my selfish desire into a tight, coherent beam, called Heather up and asked her if that soup option was still open.
It was.
I hose myself off for company's sake and Heather shows up like an angel with funky glasses. She also has a bag with 3 different soups (she apologizes for not having time to make homemade), buns, fruit salad (homemade, "for Vitamin C"), a package of 2-bite brownies, and a bunch of movies, including Koyaanisqatsi, Phil the Alien and What the Bleep do we Know? I made sure my thanks and appreciation for her effort was louder than her apologies for misjudging the distance to my house and showing up "late".
I heated up a tomato bisque (regaling her with my restaurant service days when lobster bisque was my main nutritional source), popped some corn (she'd already eaten, but there's always room for a little popcorn), and fired up Crash, since neither of us had seen it yet. Not big on romance or comedy, that one, but definitely an excellent film.
Heather was good enough to keep me company on the couch, even if it was on opposite ends, what with my possibly-contagious condition. Despite that, she was still willing to give me a hug before heading home. I made sure to call her to see if she got home alright, but ended up getting her machine and leaving a message. Turns out she got her own groceries on the way home and didn't want to return my call for fear of waking me, so she wrote me an email with the above details.
So not only is she smart and attractive, she's almost painfully thoughtful and I've GOT to do something nice for her once I'm back in fighting trim. Our conversation turned to Latin dancing, and I can think of 3 places in Calgary that offer that off the top of my head. I am not above suggestions from the general populace, though, because as you can see, my plans can go seriously awry.
Overall, though, that was a good night. Now working through my pain while a Brazilian Carnavale rages around me, that's another thing entirely.
VIEW 14 of 14 COMMENTS
tilpacer:
Dude... What is going on man? How is the adventure in dating going? 
pixxelpuss:
Hey Yo, what's new since March?