At the end of January I was in Vancouver for the opening of Cultural Olympiad, rocking out to some Joni Mitchell Ballet Beats and crossing people off a massive VIP guest list. I had already resigned from my job but it hadn't been announced yet, and I promised I wouldn't breathe a word of it to anyone.
We were understaffed, under stress and under the intense pressure of being the opening act that kicked off a 6 week festival of Canadian Cultural Delights. (Sadly, no giant inflatable moose or stripping Mounties were involved)
Well, I spent that weekend wishing I was drunk. I will admit that I managed to fail at holding myself together in a pressure cooker of Olympic proportions. This failure included not eating for an entire day and then rapidly downing several glasses of BC's finest Merlot after not recognizing Sarah McLaughlin and making a complete tool of myself by pulling the classic "...and you are?" when she asked me for her tickets.
But at least I looked hot in my swishy red cocktail dress and 50s pinup hair.
At any rate, the only reason I survived that weekend, and the three weeks that followed, was a lunch date with my friend Robert.
Over waffles and lavender lattes, he presented me with these:
The ladies at the table beside us called them tasteless. But I love them. And now when I feel like it's all just too much, I open the oven, reach far in and pull out some cupcakes. And perspective.
1 day ago