Ironic

I just realized yesterday how ironic it is that my metro and bus pass is in an authentic Coach case that isn't even mine (don't worry I didn't steal it - it's a long-term loan from a friend).

Other than that, Spring Break has just started. And boy has it started well. Last night was a scrumptious dinner at Louis XIV aurait aimé restaurant with my parents.

This morning was a fish pedicure at Tami's nail salon with Mélanie followed by brunch at L'Avenue.

Gluttony seems to be the main theme so far... I'll keep you posted!

A Thursday night mystery...

I started swimming again, which is great! I think I was made for water, it is so soothing. Anyway, so I went swimming on Thursday after school which means I got home a little later than usual, at 5:45pm. I open the front door to our apartment building and notice the neighbour's door is wide open. I peeked inside and said 'Hello, is anybody there?' but no one answered. I was a little bit worried because I saw the neighbour's boots there, and usually when her boots are there it means she's home. Before we continue, you must know that the neighbour is a tiny old lady. Her head probably reaches my armpit when she's standing next to me and she must be between 70 and 80 years old, it's hard to determine. But picture a cute little old lady. Now, if you know me at all, you'll know I have a great, vivid imagination and that this situation sent my mind spiraling into various scenarios:

A. Someone was in the apartment and had tied up the lady and or tortured her in some way, which made her unable to speak and answer when I called out.
B. She had had some sort of stroke, fallen down the stairs, or similar accident.
C. She had gone peacefully in her sleep.
D. She wasn't there, but some freaky robber was.

You get the picture. I was worried. So I walk into OUR apartment and ask my husband,
"Hey did you notice the neighbour's door is wide open?"
Him - "Oh yeah, is it still open? It was like that at 3:30pm when I got home."
(My mind briefly revisits all of my possible scenarios and thinks, yup all of that is still plausible.)
Me - "Well we have to do something about it, what if she's hurt? Or dead?"
Him - "Let's just eat dinner first and then we'll deal with it."
(By the way, the neighbour's phone rang twice during dinner and she did not pick up.)

Afterwards, I called my friend (the owner of our apartment) and asked if anything similar had happened before. She said it was really weird and that if her boots were there, that meant she was home. Same thing I thought. Now I was almost positive scenario C had taken place and was not about to go find out for myself. So I called the police. They told me to call 911, which I did and explained the situation thoroughly.

Two nice policemen stopped by a little while later and went inside and found no bodies, robbers, or other meanies of the sort. Nothing had been touched. The little old lady hadn't pulled on her door hard enough so it hadn't shut right and had blown open with the wind when we opened the main front door to the building. Mystery solved. I wrote her a little note explaining what had happened and that she could blame us if she saw policemen footprints in her apartment. She wrote back a day later saying she was really impressed with us (ya, we're the best) and that she was embarrassed and hoped it hadn't been too much of a hassle to call the police. She was very grateful to have such sweet neighbours.

And that, my friends, is the mystery that unfolded Thursday night.

Going out: the aftermath

It's not worth it. There is a reason we go out when we are young. Our bodies can cope and we are full of excitement for what lies ahead.

Going out on Friday meant going to bed way too late, consuming too much alcohol and being in a pretty bad mood for the rest of the weekend. I feel like I just wasted a weekend I'll never get back. We did go out for breakfast and then walked around the old port and watched cheezy movies, but I'm still in a terrible mood and it's Sunday morning. I'm pretty sure it's due to the fact that I didn't sleep enough or well for the past two days and my brain still feels mushy.

Hopefully today's Superbowl will make up for it!

How to tell you haven't gone out in a while...

10. You are very thankful to your sisters-in-law for giving you fashionable clothes, otherwise you would have nothing to wear.
9. It takes you an hour to get ready, when generally it takes about 10 minutes.
8. You re-do your eye makeup twice, after realizing the first 'smokey eye look' looks more like two black eyes.
7. You try to find a comb in order to tease your hair and realize you don't have one.
6. You eventually find a comb and try to tease your hair, which doesn't work, so you stick to your regular hair do.
5. You have two naps and a cup of coffee in order to prepare.
4. You put music on in order to 'get in the mood' and realize you have no idea what's playing on the radio these days.
3. You have been looking forward to this night out for three whole days.
2. You still don't know what shoes to wear.

And the number one way to tell you haven't gone out in a while...
1. You actually google 'Can I wear my yoga pants out?' (turns out you shouldn't)

Conclusion: I'm officially getting old and would rather be comfortable than stylish.