Tag: hilarity

for his sake I hope he was kidnapped by aliens

365 2009: 28.01.09
365 2009: 28.01.09

My lovely friend Mark, who I hold dear like hardly anyone else, has been standing me up this month. Yes. Month. First we ran into each other on the street and decided that Sunday! We will get together Sunday. He will make me dinner and play me music he wrote and it will be a lovely time. Then Sunday came and when I called, he had to cancel. Cousins unexpectedly in from out of town, he said. Ah! I said, that is unfortunate and completely understandable. Wednesday, he said? And I said yes. Then on Wednesday, I did not hear from him and when I called, it went directly to voice mail. Wednesday passed without him. Thursday night I got a call, "Migraine," he said. Ah! I said, again, that is unfortunate and completely understandable. I hope you are doing better. I am, he said, let me make it up to you on Sunday. Alright, I said. Sunday then. When Sunday rolled around, he called again. Jhayne, he said, you are going to hate me. What has happened now? I asked. Band practice. An accidental double-booking. Ah! I said, again, that is unfortunate and completely understandable. Wednesday? Wednesday. Now it is Wednesday and I still have not heard from him, though I have left two messages on his phone. The latest one was very amused, "Now you owe me dinner without question. I am going to put this on my calendar, The Month I Did Not See Mark. Then I will write a short story called The Month I Did Not See Mark and publish it. I think it will sell. It’s a good title."

the Prof. Snape vs. Ozzy Osborne guy was wearing an ascot, no kidding

I was stood up for dinner, but I had a nice chat with C.R. Avery and sat in the park while Rowan practised with his lovely musical pirate trio, the Creaking Planks, (where I ran into Sean McG, who claims his new clean-cut look was given to him be a group of nuns who drugged him ), instead, so that wasn’t terrible. Nicole rescued my night entirely and possibly even my weekend, too. We went for dinner at Fet’s, theatrically discussed my attempted mugging, her terrible attempt at getting out of the city for the long weekend, my irrational emotional traumas, and the gnome themed bar she found herself stuck at in Squamish.

Love Hurts came on the stereo as we were waiting for our bill, so she pulled a scene, I loudly rebutted her “passion”, and we danced briefly, until it was simply too much and we had to leave before laughter terminally overcame breathing. Course, that happened after, while walking past the we-are-musicians-because-we-dress-like-them “jam session” happening outside Turks. I’m wearing LEATHER! He wasn’t shrieking, exactly, but the entire scene was too much. Too, too much.

Sometimes time swells over and spills little events. I suppose tonight is one of those nights.

Who will be at the Bjork concert? Would you like to meet up? Give me a cell number to call and we can play tag at the gig. (I’m going with Joshua Caldwell and Travis Hildebrandt.)