I always tell my friends the same hypothetical story of how I’d like to meet someone.
It’s in a coffee shop. With a hot cup of coffee in my hands. I’ll be turning the corner and suddenly BAM! I smack right into him. My drink pours down the front of my shirt (probably scalding my first layer of skin, to be honest) and I’m yelping in pain.
I’m embarrassed. He’s embarrassed and feels terrible (because, duh—the man of my dreams has endless amounts of compassion). And everyone in the coffee shop is second-hand embarrassed… Mostly for me.
“I’m so sorry,” he’ll sputter. And then he’ll offer to buy me another drink. This time it’s iced coffee. All jokes considered.
We’ll sit down and have a long chat about our lives. What makes us tick. What gets us up in the morning. What fulfills us and what empties out our hearts on a daily basis. What our parents are like.
(Ignore the fact that my shirt is stained with coffee and I’m still reeling from the pain of having hot coffee poured all over me.)
It’ll be magical. Momentous. It’ll turn both our worlds upside down. It’ll be all the things and more. I’ll see fireworks in his eyes and he’ll see a Disney sparkle in mind.
This is it, I’ll think to myself. Forget all those other gentlemen callers, the universe has brought me the one! Cease all your efforts, Kaylynn. They are now futile.
And deep sigh. This is I’ll never find someone I like.
Last night I saw Thor: The Dark World (I wish Dr. Erik Selvig was naked for more of the movie) and then went to Venue to see Morgan Page. I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know who Morgan Page is (“Which one is he? The one with the toque or..?”) but I went for moral support/it was free.
While standing in the archetypal mile-long line for the women’s washroom, the girls my friend and I were sandwiched between had a conversation that went along the lines of:
Girl #1: Oh my God, it does not take that long to pee.
Girl #2: Oh my God, I know right? This is so ridiculous. Do you want to go bang on some doors? I’m down to do that.
Girl #1: *says something along the lines of agreeing–was not really listening because she was annoying*
Girl #2: I like you! You’re from East Van, aren’t you? Haha, oh my God, you’re from East Van, aren’t you!
What the fuck, dude. What is your problem? I’m from East Van. And I have friends who were born and raised in East Van, and we do not
go make empty threats about banging on washroom stall doors because inebriated chicks who are at the brink of puking are apparently taking more than 30 seconds to pee. Like y’all are sober, what is the rush? Can’t we just all be in this together on this journey called life????
At the same time, we can all learn something from people who lack civility and who forget that they’re living in a society that ideally aims towards a sense of community. These moments remind me to consider kindness and respect for other people. I actually watched an incredibly rude girl get kicked out before she even got in the club. Forreal, she was very loudly complaining about how disgusting Vancouver clubs are (so then why are you here?) and gave attitude to the guest line chick, and the bouncer came over and told her to leave. These people are like the World Star Hip-Hop of real life.
So always say please and thank you — and an especial thank you to those who remind us to be better.
Here’s a toast for the douchebags.
What else happened last night?? Oh right, my friend almost gauged my eyeball out and the pain still reverberates in my eye socket today. My girlfriend covered a slice of pizza with an incredible amount of Tabasco sauce and ranch dressing–the point that it was soaked and dripping–it was really. Fucking. Good.
I’m still thinking about it right now.
I think I found my spirit animal.
xx, Butterscotch Waterfall
Blazer — H&M; romper — Forever 21; shoes — Lita dupes from Amazon.com; purse — Dior; Hello Kitty iPhone case — BestBuy99 (best place for iPhone cases); mardi gras beads — courtesy of an annoying guy with annoying friends
I LOVE rompers and jumpsuits because they satisfy the need of an entire outfit in one go (and as you will learn to know and love, I am incredibly lazy).. Plus you can’t get in, and can’t get out, and that’s the best kind of drunk hands immunity.
I remember a lot of my outfits based on what happened in them (NOT what you’re thinking). For example, this lil numba was worn to Vancouver’s fav place to party at on a Tuesday (Celebs). And you know how there’s annoying people everywhere in life, right? Well, I think several of you can agree with me that there is an upsurge of especially annoying people when you are out with your girlfriends.
What happened was, my girlfriends and I were on the dance floor, and this truly remarkable douchebag decides it’d be cute to pirouette between throngs of dancing drunk people. Not just pirouetting (by the way, who the fuck pirouettes in day-to-day life?), he was purposely hip-checking my friends, and being all around irritating as fuck.
That shit is not cute. Like, stop. Do not pirouette aggressively into people.
Unamused as fuck, I tap him on the shoulder and I say, “Can you stop that? You keep pushing my friends and I. And we’re very small.” He stops abruptly and tells me, “I like you,” and removes a mardi gras necklace from the collection sitting around his neck and places it around mine. He then tried to physically pick me up, and I was not having it, but I will take this necklace…
And that’s what happened in this outfit.
Sleep, kisses from our pets, faith in humanity, time away from our phones, shower/car/drunk singing, cake, Spanish phrases, blueberries, squats, babies that aren’t yours, colours, fancy tea, cutoff denim shorts, good mornings, bike rides, Al Green’s Love and Happiness, justice, croissants (and less donuts), happy dances, people who smell nice, sandwiches, stupid jokes, puppies, breakfast with people you love, Mariah Carey, popsicles, safe drivers, songs everyone knows the words to, cheese [on everything], telling people how you feel, jumpsuits, nice bums, girls with nice bums in yoga pants, feel good sitcoms (Gilmore Girls, OTH Seasons 1-3, The O.C… y’all know that shit was the bomb), comfortable high heeled shoes, love for your mom!, sexy people,
and drop top cruising.