I decided to work on Canada Day and take Monday off instead. It was strange to be productive when it seemed like everyone in this city was out celebrating in the strangling heat. At this time of year, I can’t help but think of eucalyptus oil first kisses blue blankets shy embraces, constantly unsure of whether the memories made me happy or sad. Canada Day will never be the same.
I was left feeling completely disconnected from the world. In my room, I wondered what Aaron was doing at his place this year. The fireworks popping outside my window were so loud it was as if they were going off in my back yard. I didn’t bother to look. It was still just another day.
Dolly can never resist sleeping on unfamiliar objects, such as John’s duffel bag.
The second plot was John passing through Ottawa for a bachelor party. It ended much earlier than expected after two days of debauchery that got too much for even him.
So we had a lot of extra time together over the long weekend though we didn’t do anything special. It was mostly games, sunshine, driving, three seasons of the IT crowd, popcorn, and duets. Also, three movies were watched: The Hangover (which I agreed not to watch until we saw each other again), The Prince of Tides (to switch gears a bit, and my third time seeing it this year), and The A-Team (which is what we decided on for a movie in the theatres, and the likes of which is generally only palpable during the summer in the company of other male friends).
I sort of…unplugged. Drifted off in the haze and lost my mind for a little while.
Ginger rose tea. Delish.
I also invited Heather and Sergey to pho with us because they had yet to meet John, and everyone got along swimmingly. I shouldn’t be surprised; Heather and Sergey are type to find something interesting about anything, and John’s the type to say interesting things.
John with his sherbert and holiday scruff, saying the kinds of things that make him popular to everyone.
Now I’m catching up on work and sleep and alone time.
That tea looks so elegant. I rarely use such a hackneyed word, but it really looks glamorous. Want!
What nationality is John? Such a great profile.
He’s Scottish! Although in that light, he doesn’t look very fair-skinned, and it gives him a bit of Mediterranean appearance, wouldn’t you agree?
Ha. I told you John could be a womaniser (Aunt Vivien says hear, hear). He’s the Harrison Ford (decent)type, as opposed to the Tom Cruise (pretty boy) type, which make him even more lethal :) even though he swears like a construction worker :)
That’s interesting, I don’t know anyone else who sees John this way. Maybe it’s a cultural thing, the way certain cultures view people from other cultures in a very different light than the way their normally seen. For example, I hear that in Sweden the most attractive hair colour is black because it’s so rare there, whereas in North America it seems to be blond.
Just out of curiosity, I thought being blonde was an old fashion in North America, aren’t the biggest stars like Angelina J. , Jessica A. and Megan F. brunettes? I recall from French class that “ma blonde” meant my girl, I’m not sure it still means that, because hair colour really is a fashion.