Bitter, Sweet and Juicy
What a treat it is to be back! It is not even 9:00 am on a Sunday morning and after weeks I have finally found some non-hungover time to write. Outside my window, the clouds have settled low over the ocean and the rain is falling in to snow. I must apologize for my extended absence. From what I have heard, Rugged Fox withdrawal is worse than coming down from cocaine, heroine and methamphetamine – at the same time.
So where have I been you ask? The answer is quite simple: work. After I was thrust in to the daytime “office manager” role at the restaurant, I went from managing the floor to supervising an inbox. It has only been two months, but this new position has not only taken a devastating toll on my waistline but also my writing. After replying to emails non-stop for 60 hours a week, I have a hard time typing any sentence that is not "I'm so sorry" or "Let me send you a gift card."
Since my relationship was Sebastian sank, I have been doing plenty of heavy thinking in the bath tub about what I should write about next. I have arranged these thoughts into a wine flight below.
Name: "Hello my name is Hot Mess"
Varietal: Cabernet-Petit Verdot
Tasting Notes: Harsh tannins, burning alcohol, 48-hour finish.
I know I said I was going to be all Power of Now post break-up; but that balanced lifestyle lasted about ten minutes before I was losing my balance at the gay bar down the street. Seeing as how I have been so busy at work, I didn’t have time to check in to the Heartbreak Hotel for three plus years like I usually prefer to do. So I had to get her all done in one Friday night, which I did. One pretentious outfit, three bottles of wine and I successfully managed to make-out with two boys and write off the rest of my weekend.
Name: "Sometimes a Bitch has Just Got to Get Fat"
Pairs well with: Frozen Pizza, Fast Food, and Chicken Parmesan (no veg sub pasta).
There is a search warrant out right now for my metabolism. I have looked everywhere and I still can’t find it! This time last year, I was busting out the 20 lb weights at the gym and tracking the circumference of my biceps over Twitter. Now I am dodging cameras and running out of breath every time I take the elevator up and down twelve floors. Yesterday at Winners I almost broke the zipper on a pair of size-30 CK’s after I refused to believe I couldn’t fit in them. I ended up buying a pair of size-32 pants and called the Crisis Centre right after I got the bill.
Name: “Table for One Please”
Palette: Refreshing, Crisp Acidity, Semi-Sweet Finish.
It’s very strange indeed, but have you ever felt like a stranger in your own life? I think one of my greatest struggles this year living downtown is coping with the fact I do not feel at home. I feel like I am stranded in the middle of a sea of skyscrapers. I lost count, but my apartment window looks in to over 1,000 other apartments with a 1,000 flat screen TV’s. And yet somehow I feel like I am the only other person in this world. Every morning I line-up for coffee downstairs, I stand behind six people I have never seen before and chances are will never see again. This strangeness was what I loved most about Vancouver when I first moved here. Now I’d give my left bicep for a familiar face or a Sunday night dinner.
Name: "Just one more Night Cap”
Varietal: Tawny Port
I am quite confident with the fact that I still have a ways to go before I am ready to drink. There is not a decanter big enough in the world that could settle me down. If you cracked me open now, however, here is what you would get: flyer carrier, McDonald’s team leader, grocery boy, heterosexual, walking tour guide, barista, student, Catholic, bisexual, singer, warehouse supervisor, alcoholic, playwright, sales representative, editor, homosexual, son, busser, model, boyfriend, best friend, lover, drag queen, artist, busser, graduate, server, brother, journalist, columnist, spiritualist, and restaurant manager. Give me another ten to twenty years and then I’m sure I’ll be ready to pour.
cheers, cin cin, salut, nasdrovia.