Give me that apple, Snow White. I’m not afraid.

I’ve finally started writing bits and pieces of my book again. I’ve given up on reading for pleasure for a while because I feel like I never have time to put everything else on hold. Instead of falling asleep to Law & Order or Twilight (who am I kidding?), I could pick up any one of my five, half-read books I have strewn about my room, but getting up at 4 am to turn off my bedroom light is just an annoyance I’d prefer to avoid.

I’ve never wanted to smoke a joint more than I have in the past week. And I’ve never been much of a recreational drug user. With the exception of taking a drink laced with MDMA once, my drug-use has never extended much past the occasional bong hit.

For whatever reason, I smelled someone smoking pot the other day outside my bedroom window (my window acts like a wind tunnel, sucking in noise and smells from the street below) and ever since; I’ve been craving that release.

My mother would be so ashamed.

My lulu is rammed full today. With my change of boots, dress, sweater, boyfriend blazer, lunch, day planner, makeup, cameras (yes, I packed 2) and TTC day pass, I’m probably more prepared than I have ever been in my entire life.

But when one has intimate sit down chats with Leona Lewis and concerts like Owl City (yeah, you know you love to hate him) and LIGHTS to go to, one must be prepared for anything. And to be prepared, I bought one of the cutest dresses I have ever seen. One of the cutest dresses I have ever seen that looks like absolute hell on me.

Ah well, you can’t win ‘em all.

At least it’s been a couple days since a dirty, 50-something man rubbed his paint-splotched pant-covered erection on my leg. Please do not be mistaken; this isn’t a metaphor for anything.

I just really never saw anything like that happening to me. Toronto came with plenty of warnings and disclaimers: Don’t set your drink down at the bar. Don’t walk alone at night. Don’t stand too close to the subway tracks. You get the idea. But no one warned me that I would have the ‘pleasure’ of a man with dirt under his fingernails and urine stench on his clothes, pushing his body into mine on the streetcar. Maybe if I had been warned I could have prevented the semi-frequent boner flashbacks I had for the couple of days after.

I’m off to play dress up in the bathroom for some of my co-workers.
Have a lovely [Thurs]day!!

PS. What did volcano me say to volcano you?
I LAVA you… ♥