Friday night for you, you, you, you and me

So, this bbq we’re having. Any idea how many people have been invited? We should post something on the blog.

i haven't given it much thought
i'm getting the pre-party jitters.

Breathe through it. Do you wanna post it on the blog?

what would we say?

I dunno. What do we usually say?
"We’re having a bbq. Come one, come all. But if you do, please RSVP."

"please rsvp" would be redundant.
come one come all? :S
we don't have a very big bbq.

Fine. Rsvp. And whatever. The point is to have it up there. You really are freaking out, aren’t you.

you can post whatever you'd like

I’ve posted the last bunch of stuff on the blog, which is why I had wanted you to do it.

what would you like me to say?

Honestly, I don’t care. Anything.

ok
if i think of something, i'll post.

Thanks.

There will be FOOD for people to EAT this Friday evening. There will be a little grill, on which we can char edibles. You may bring something, to ensure that you do not go thirsty/hungry. We will provide the lawn, citronella, some dessert and a handful of hot singles.

Questions? Send'em our way.

Please bring a hula hoop if you've got one.

luxury is time well wasted

Wow, it's about 9:30pm and it's the first night in about a month where I've been home in the evening long enough to actually check email and sit back to realize I've got nothing to do. How I went from having a minimalist weeknight social life to having it morph hugely out of my control is beyond me. All I know is that reading Toronto Life (my, Jamie Kennedy, what lovely curls you have there) on the couch to the sound of silence interrupted by the odd bicycle softly whizzing by is absolute nirvana. My next day off, I'm grabbing a blanket, heading to Trinity Bellwoods and falling asleep in the sun reading whatever.

Today Lolo and I saved a squirrel. We came home to the sound of what we thought was a duck quacking from inside the wine barrels our Portuguese landlord has sitting outside the basement entrance of our laundry room. Unsure how he might've gotten the ducks into the barrels (and why), we looked down to notice a little furry animal stuck in the crevice between them and the wall. The noise threw us off, 'cause he must've been pretty scared to have been channeling Daffy . Still unsure what it was (A rat? A mouse?) and unsure what to do (do we call animal control? the landlord?) we grabbed the only tools we could muster – a couple of broom sticks – and tilted the stacked barrels away from the wall to let the little guy out. After some prodding, he ran up the stairs and across the lawn.
Today is the first day of the rest of your life, little squirrel. I just hope Roscoe didn't eat you as you tasted your first few breaths of freedom.

the things we do for art

I'm not really sure how I got roped into this one. But in case you're wondering, the orange lipstick is due to Pat's photoshop handiwork. And for the record, I don't usually shower with strange men...on first meeting. Thank you for being gentle.

World Cup of Toronto?

This could be fun - www.torontoworldcup.blogspot.com. Or, I could get bored. Or worse, I could get a job sooner than I want to. But let's give these new ideas a chance.