The Telltale Spring

There’s a familiar golden glow creeping through the curtains. No, actually. Not creeping. It’s been creeping the past few days, but today is different. It’s not glowing anymore. Today the sunlight is bursting through the  infinitesimal parting of the curtains. Proudly casting the full power of its rays upon the carpet.

I smile broadly into the pillow and stretch. Inhaling deeply, basking in the comfort of the crisp sheets. Dressing the bed in light breezy linens was the right thing to do. I feel validated.

Following the subtle leads and piecing together the slight clues of the universe, I was able to cement my case for the changing of the sheets.

Let’s review, shall we?

1) An insatiable desire to eat food on a bun

During the weekly grocery shop D grabbed a bag of buns and threw them into the cart without a second thought. “Let’s do stuff with these this week”, he suggested. Hmmm, maybe. That’s warm weather food though, I don’t think it’s time for that. I gave one of the buns a tentative squeeze with forefinger and thumb. Ooo, that’s good stuff. Fluffy. Fresh. It feels so right. I will do stuff with these buns. I’m going to get them home pronto and do terrible things with them. Terribly delicious things.

meatball subs

Meatball subs, drenched in marinara sauce and cheese.

Jumbo honey garlic sausage dogs.

Jumbo honey garlic sausage dogs.

The ambitious use of mustard is not to be overlooked. It’s a critical piece of evidence in itself. The stomach just wants what it wants. Foods shipped daily to tummy via bun.

2) The bike rack, in use!

A cold, shitty day in February while walking home from work. All of sudden, I’m face to face with what has to be the world’s longest bike rack. Enormous, and appearing out of nowhere, it caught me off guard. Seriously, it can fit like 20 bikes! No, actually, it can fit like 30. This rack can take a whole lot of bike. It was all D and I talked about over dinner that night. The mysterious new bike rack. Now a very major part of our lives. Who put it there? Why was it so big? Why couldn’t it wait until April to be installed? What was this urgent need for an extra-large bike rack in February, and why weren’t we aware of it? Then, we started betting on when we’d see the first bike. Surely it’ll go unused for months! We both wagered on dates in April. Logical, sensible dates in April.

The first recorded appearance of a bike on the new bike rack was Tuesday March 5th.

March Madness

March Madness.

The biker struck again on Friday March 8th.

A presumably happy customer.

A presumably happy customer.

Looking back now, I can’t believe how young and naive we were. Those were the days. The long forgotten days of weeks past, when a much younger Smash could not possibly fathom bikers in March.

Whoever you are, random biker, I commend you.

3) Sudden boom in street performance

D and I pass through Yonge-Dundas Square quite frequently on the weekends. To and from various activities and adventures. It’s very hectic. There’s always a lot going on there. It’s a very popular area for street performance and entertainment. However, winter can be quite discouraging to the performers. It’s cold, wet, and dark out. The people on the street are hurrying about, with very little desire to stop for an extended period of time. Seeking the warmth and comfort of the indoors, they speed through the square.

Friday night, D and I are strolling along Yonge. Hand-in-hand, we’re leisurely. It’s sort of warm out. It’s nice. As we approach the Yonge-Dundas Square, it starts to feel quite crowded on the sidewalk. Large clumps of people are gathering, watching something.

The closer we get, the more we can make out.

A man, covered from head to toe in golden makeup. A golden hat. A golden suit. A golden face. He’s a living breathing Oscar! His movements are robotic and strange. We can’t look away.

Eventually, we do pull ourselves away. Only to stumble upon another performer! A young dude, with a glass crystal ball. He’s moving it deftly from hand to hand. Rolling it across his fingers, gliding it up his arms and across his wrists. Every twist and turn of his limb a wonder. It’s as if he doesn’t have bones. So cool!

But we have to keep moving. We walk another couple of steps, and suddenly a catch in my throat. It is the most breathtakingly awesome sight I’ve ever beheld.

"You underestimate the power of the dark side"

“You underestimate the power of the dark side”

It’s freaking Darth Vader, holy shit, this is so awesome!

A new performer every couple of steps. The streets are crawling with them, and people are taking the time to enjoy it. Because it’s warm out. Because it’s Friday. And because you never turn your back on the dark lord.

4) Harvey hunts

My loveable little dude Harvey, suddenly has an abundance of visitors to stalk from afar. Big chubby city pigeons are stopping for a rest on our balcony. And Harvey has been very interested in monitoring their visits. Most likely to ensure that the pigeons don’t breach the indoor perimeter. He’s doing an excellent job protecting us from unwanted intruders.

He’s been listless lately. I’m happy that the pigeons are here. They keep him alert. He’ll go from blissed out napping to fighting fury in 5 seconds flat the instant he catches a glimpse of pigeon!

Based on these four facts, I made the decision to switch over my bed linens. I ditched the heavy-duty flannels for breezy cottons. The universe wants me to be ready. Spring is coming. And I have to be prepared to make it feel welcome.

It wants me to eat foods served on buns. It wants me to use the bike rack. It wants me to applaud the street performers. It wants me to clean the windows so Harvey can have the clearest possible pigeon viewing experience.

By logical assumption, it also wants me to change the sheets.

I’m ready for you Spring. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to speed your impending arrival.



Fudgey Friday

Friday was a turd of a day. It’s usually a good mellow day at the office, but instead it was surprisingly busy. The To-Do List was really piling up all week, so I had a lot on my plate. Plus, my outfit was kind of dreadful, so that’s never good. But hey, you make the best of what you can with the only clean clothes you have left in the closet. Mood-wise, I was about even keel all day. Although I was busy, I was still in a decent mood.

That is, until I got on the subway.

The subway is busy at rush hour. It’s just a fact of life. And I’m totally cool with that. I am NOT, however, cool with rude ass bitches giving ME an impromptu lecture on subway etiquette when they’re the ones defying the standards of subway behaviour. I’m standing on the subway, just chillin’. This woman gets on, and proceeds to lean her whole body against mine. I was in a corner, so I couldn’t possibly make any room for her. And, it really wasn’t so crowded that you needed to be touching anyone else. So, when people lean up against me and I have nowhere to go, there’s not really a lot of give. I stand tough, because I’m not going to be mashed into a corner by some random bitch who clearly lacks human touch in her everyday life. Otherwise, why would she feel the need to rub all over me when there’s plenty of standing room on the train?

Out of nowhere, she turns to me in an overly put on “sweet” manner (and by that I mean condescending as fuck), and says “It’s really busy on the subway at rush hour, so you need to calm down”. WTF? I hadn’t said anything to her, I hadn’t even moved, I was just standing there minding my own business. But I guess if you’re as obnoxious and entitled as this woman was, it’s normal for you to get on the subway and squash your body against someone else’s and then be rude to them. That makes sense right?

So I said to her, “I don’t know what you’re talking about but you can back off”. And she continues on with this same bullshit attitude, “listen, you need to understand that the subway is busy and you need to be calm  and make room for others. I’m just trying to have a calm, mature conversation about this with you.” That really fucking pissed me off. I don’t know if I look like a pushover or something, but I most certainly am not. And as pleasant and easy-going as I usually am during my commute, you don’t start shit with me and think you’re going to come away unscathed. Smash don’t take no guff, people!

I, in my most menacingly calm manner, replied “yeah, well I don’t know why you think that I need to be having this conversion, but I don’t, so you can go fuck yourself!” To which, she visibly bristled and then puffed out her chest and said “Well, you’re welcome”. I mimicked that false sweetness with a very syrupy “mmmkay, thanks!” right back at her. Bitch turned around, stopped leaning on me and got off at the next station. So, I guess that shut her up.

In the event that you’re out there reading this you rude ass entitled subway bitch, I’ll reiterate once more: go fuck yourself. How dare you get on the subway, impose your body onto mine, invade my personal space when it wasn’t at all necessary and then try to look down your ugly ass nose at me. If anyone needs a lecture about manners on the subway and I would also venture about life in general, seems like it’s you. So go home to your lonely cat-filled shanty and stay the eff out of my face. Because if I ever see you pulling that shit with someone on the subway again, I won’t let you off so easy next time.

By the time I got off at my station, I was positively fuming. I’ve had some really strange experiences on the subway, but nothing quite like that. So I met up with D at the station and told him my harrowing tale. We then decided that the best course of action would be beer. D always knows the best way to deflate my rage! If we fight, he’s best advised to forego the flowers and come home with a 6-pack instead. So we went to the pub for dinner and drinks, which had the desired effect. But little did I know, there was something even better waiting for me at home…

looks like a normal Tupperware container, but it’s actually super-sized!

In the kitchen, my older sister had planted four colossal fudge brownies with cream cheese frosting. Mmmmm, brownies make for a very happy Smash!

oh, just delightful

Fudgey brownies and cream cheese frosting you don’t know how perfectly timed your arrival in my life really was! You make me want to be a better Smash. As much of a turd as Friday was, and as much of a bitch as that bitch was, nothing else matters when we’re together. Brownies, I love you!

And Fudgey Fridays is totally a thing in our household now, so I hope you’re prepared to make something just as tasty next week Mar. Because who knows what altercations I’ll have gotten into by then!