Solace for Squirrels

When I mentioned to my friends that my upcoming date was with an online stranger from a town called Chateaugay, three of them cringed. They wouldn't give any specifics on why I shouldn't go; simply that the odds my dreamdate would come from there were slim to none.

Next time, I'll listen to them.

I ordered a beer and sat down at the designated meeting spot. After waiting for about 20 minutes, he finally arrived. After a few minutes of generic banter, he proceeded to talk about his stunning chest (which was anything but), his myriad of psychotic ex girlfriends (one of whom was apparently a lesbian, but the sex was so good with him that she made an exception), and his recovery from a recent nervous breakdown. The discussion went on to topics such as why he could never trust a French Canadian girlfriend (apparently because all of his F-C friends' girlfriends want to sleep with him), and how the only nice girl he's met (apart from me) was his cute german cousin who came to visit a few years ago.

I haven't communicated with him since, although he did send an email offering his "services" if I was ever interested.

Yes, Klassy with a capital K. The moral of the story: listen to your friends, and stay far, far away from boys from Gay Castle.

Today at work, my colleagues and I were having a fairly cordial email debate after someone sent a link about how French president Chirac left an EU meeting in a huff when one of his fellow frenchman switched from french to english in the middle of a speech.

After a few minutes one of my coworkers jokingly sent out an email saying "Vous me faite tousse chier ma gagne d’osti d’anglais - <== try translating that one haha". So I popped it into the google translator, and here was the result:
"You made me coughs to shit my gains English osti". Wow. I really couldn't have found a less relevant or more comedic translation if I'd tried. I know that the total lack of proper spelling in the original french text is mostly to blame, but high five to google for such an awesome translation. Seriously. I nearly shit my gains laughing.

I can't stop eating olives. It's nearly half past midnight, and I have been stuffing my face with them for the past 2 hours. The worst thing about eating olives is that there's a visible record of how many you've eaten... lying in front of me is a fairly massive mound of pits. I can't "pretend" like I do with chips, crackers or cookies that I've really only had a few. I can see the olive carcasses, the gnawed-on remains of my feast. Ugh.

That's all for now. More thrilling posts to come.

An update on my last post....
Despite my noble intentions, sexy boots, and a reasonable amount of self confidence, last night with the ex was in many ways a somewhat bitter experience. I tried to rise above it all and be happy for his new life with wife and child. And truly, I believe I was doing well until he whipped out the (a) baby photos and (b) VIDEOS OF HIS PERFECT AND HAPPY FAMILY (including the staple golden retriever pup). After about 20 minutes of viewing I suggested we head out for dinner (before I succumbed to the overwhelming urge to floss my eyeballs).

After dinner I drove him to the airport where he caught his flight home to domestic bliss. It's very odd to see a player settle down - the feeling was almost cultish, like he had repressed his former self and tucked his schmoozing charm away somewhere (mid-life crisis at 40?). He's grown up, but lost a bit of himself in the process (perhaps not such a bad thing).

Despite the occasional pang of bitterness (did I mention he's soon being transferred to Paris?), I actually appreciate being able to see with a bit more clarity where I came from and where I'm heading.

(Ya, right.)