I know! It's been so long! And I have so, so much to tell you, but my mind is just full of notions and projects and adjectives, brimming and bubbling, and, well, frankly, it's just spilling over.
Right, I'm back from London. We should clear up something right away: I did not make out with anyone. Again, I know! Yay for moral underwear. I did share a bed with someone however, and though the Amazon IS indeed a hottie, she and I did nothing but delicately fall into a kind of unconsciousness that may have had just a tiny bit to do with five bottles of wine, a bottle of champagne, a jug of mojitos and a fabulous gay man.
So, while my moral underwear may be been in full working order, my brassiere of sobriety now has a broken underwire.
Still, that's only the very least of London that has to be shared, except not right now, because wait! There's more! There are many other subjects at hand!
Like The Celestine Prophecy, and how it may or may not relate directly to my life, in the form of a 23-year old boy I met in Rome 16 years ago. I know! It's an awesome story, full of intrigue and coincidence and possibly romance. It's also an awesome story full of intrigue and coincidence that may end up with pairing his fruit with my currently forsaken fly. So, you know, either way I win. But there is more to tell there, poppets, so much more. So just bear with me while I get the thoughts and notions down to an even boil...
I should mention, by the way, that he was 23 sixteen years ago, which would make him 39 now... and 40 is the new 30, so it works out well, even if I am only sitting at the tender age of 30 years and 364 days... because I'm turning 31 tomorrow! Thirty-one!
I know! So old, and yet, also so very much back in the low numbers, and therefore so very much better!
Also very thrillingly, it's my champagne birthday, as I'm turning 31 on the 31st, and I've been looking forward to this day for a long time. After all, it's not often that Dom Perignon figures so significantly in your birthday plans!
And of course, I have to go do my birthday grocery shop. It's a little habit I've picked up - do a week's worth of non-perishable grocery shopping around my birthday, and donate it all to the Daily Bread Food Bank here in Toronto. I know - it sounds totally wonderful and selfless to any newcomers around here, doesn't it? Except that those who've been here with your Mare for a while now know that I totally do it for selfish reasons. Please, poppets. As if I don't totally enjoy dropping the groceries off at a local fire station, and getting one of the rather magnificently carved be-uniformed bodies to help me unload all the food and hopefully invite me to (Everybody now!) slide down his pole! Happy birthday to me!
So, let's sum up shall we?
Things Mare has to go into further detail about over several
bottles glasses of wine, and a really good Stilton:
London - the wonderfulness that is Stewart; the success that head office seems to think I'm making of myself and my Canadian satellite; clubbing first thing in the morning, and why they don't make Fuse bars anymore (tragedy).
That Canadian boy from Italy: the original story, the reconnection, and why I think I may be having his children. (Even if he is gay.)
My Champagne birthday: Tomorrow! Tomorrow is my birthday! Also, familial festivities, more celebrations to come this Saturday, and probable emotional fall-outs suffered post-birthday, because let's face it, you guys know how I am.
Mini-jaunts: Two more trips this year! Maybe even three! More soon!
Love you, poppets! Love you even more than my gorgeous new purse! (Ooh! Mental note! Tell them about the purse!)
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