February 11th, 2009

It was a dark and rainy night

You'd be so proud of me.

Tonight after work, I went to an event with a coworker. Don't get too excited; by event, I mean free drinks, free nibbles, and 20% off at the Gap. Not to mention the free magazine, free bag, and $10 gift card.


After the event, thanks to the TTC's ASSY transit system, I couldn't get a transfer, so I walked home. And let me tell you, I shouldn't have walked home. Not because of the distance -- if you know me (and if you're reading this, you must know me fairly well), you know that I don't mind walking long distances. But it was a pretty crappy night. If I were a character in a novel, it would've gone something like this:

"As the fog descended on the city streets, she pulled her scarf over her head, shoulders hunched against the damp February air. Along the highway, headlights appeared suddenly, then blurred into the darkness. Her footsteps were silent against the pavement. She took deep, heavy breaths, looking over her shoulder every so often. All was quiet. And then it started to rain."

No really, it started to rain. And my bladder was about to burst. I'm not really sure why I'm sharing this, except I have to mention that it was really eerie -- although I never felt unsafe, the walk was very horror movie, very atmospheric, very rape-a-licious. (Perhaps even more rape-a-licious than the alleyway at 92nd street. But I digress.)

Then I got home and ate pasta. Mmmmmm, pasta.