Crazy little thing called life.

Being unemployed has some advantages. I really enjoy the spare time that I haven't been using to do anything practical. Or even routine. Like blogging. This morning and this afternoon, I had two phone interviews for the same company. I'm so sick of talking about myself it isn't even remotely funny. But I'll try to muddle through the long-overdue recant of my wonderful weekend in sunny Toronto. You already know about that Thursday and the hell I went through trying to get there.

So, let's start with Friday. On Friday, I woke up early, as I usually do. I eased into my day. Wendy and I took a walk through High Park and stopped by the zoo, where I snapped a couple nice pictures of the animals. Nothing, friends, looks funnier than a goat in a box. We walked and talked our way through the park, which is a very nice place, actually. It made me a little homesick, though, for trees and farms and the like.

Friday night, we were slated to see Spamalot with my bwife, so we met up with Maria at a bar where she was playing trivia, and kicking ass. I soon found out that she regularly kicks ass at it, too, but occasionally needed help on some American questions. It was fortunate for her that two Americans showed up at that time, too. After a couple drinks and rounds of trivia, Joey showed up and it was time for us to go over for the show. The show itself is hilarious. I got the feeling that the people sitting behind me were season ticket holders or something, because they knew nothing about the movie, and less about Python. I spent a lot of time trying to ignore them and enjoy the play.

After the play, we went for a late dinner. A very late dinner at a very fancy place. It used to be a mansion or something, and has since been converted into a restaurant. It was very nice, and the food was delicious, but eating a steak at 11:30 at night is not something I would recommend to anyone. I wound up staying up late, just to give myself a chance to digest. It was during that time that I discovered something rather peculiar about Canadian cable TV- after about 1am or so, almost every other channel is showing soft-core porn. I was watching a show on Discovery Channel when it went to commercial, so I flipped up a channel to find a couple playing with the woman's nipples.

I was surprised to see that. That's not to say that I didn't watch, of course, but I decided I should move on, so I flipped back down a channel, back to Discovery. They were still on commercial break, so I flipped down another channel. This one was an educational program about how to find erogenous zones on your partner, including full-fledged nudity. Again surprised, by this, I learned a couple new tricks and switched back to the Discovery channel before too long.

Saturday was a full day, involving a trip to the mall and a jewelry store. I haven't spent much time in jewelry stores, so it was fascinating to me. I found watches that cost more than my last car, which scared me, especially since I have a track record of losing and breaking watches. That night we met up with a bunch of folks at a bar called the Green Room. It was a nice place, good beer, but no air conditioning. It wasn't unbearably hot, but I'm not a fan of heat, so I was a little uncomfortable. We decided at some point that we should find a place to do some karaoke, so off we went, in separate cabs, so Joey could pick up his accordion at the office. Little did I know that that side trip would result in Shoshanna's appearance in my life.

We arrived at the Gladstone a few minutes later and got slips filled out and got our spot in the queue to sing. Literally minutes after we put in our songs, a woman sang the song Wendy put in. Ten minutes or so later, I heard the KJ introduce someone to sing my signature song, and he butchered it. I kept my slip in, however. I was going to show this guy how to do Poison properly. Joey joined me on accordion and we brought the fucking house down. That's about when I met Hank. Hank works at the Gladstone, and he's just one hell of a guy, who does Hank Williams like a pro. I miss Hank. I owe Hank an e-mail, actually. I should really get on that.

Sunday was the big day, it was Sass' party, and my first baseball game outside of the US ever. I met up with Maria for brunch (remind me to find a way to get peameal bacon shipped to me. I love the stuff) and we walked over to the park for some Blue Jays-White Sox action. I was surprised by how friendly people were to a guy in a White Sox jersey, and surprised by how empty the stadium was. I should also mention that I was surprised by how expensive and strong the beer was. All told, both Maria and I left the stadium far drunker than we thought.

Anyways, I need a break in the action, and Maria and I are still discussing who is going to tell the dress story, but next up, I'll recap the big party.