'Cause, it's summer. And shite is BIZZZEEE! I'm sure it is for you too, so chances are you haven't even really missed me that much and I'm just beating myself up for no reason/Jewish guilt.
First off, I've recently been out n' aboot all over the place and every cute guy I meet is just getting YOUNGER AND YOUNGER. Seriously- last night?
Twenty-freakin-two!
Not to mention Venezuelan and MUY caliente! But still, can't go there. I feel like I may have to change this blog's name to
"LINDSEY'S ADVENTURES IN BABYSITTING"
Seriously, now.
Moving right along to story #63.
Several years ago, in the beginning of my career, my co-worker/best friend and I would get shipped off to Vancouver for these EPICALLY long Fisher-Price toy shoots. It pretty much sucked a big fat donkey ass, but what could we do? Three years in a row, we were out there for about a month at a time. It was enough for a 24 year old me to lose my shit. So, I did what I do best: Made friends.
All the guys on the crew were the same every year, not to mention hilarious and attractive. Hell, they could have been dogs and I would've befriended them! Boredom is my worst enemy.
Luckily, they weren't dogs. Especially one in particular: Van. Not only was he quite the looker, tall dark and handsome (aka my type) with blue eyes, he was something that makes a guy even hotter for me: HILARIOUS.
Instead of dreading a long, grueling day on a set trying to make some pathetic Canadian toddler play with some dysfunctional toy for a horrid commercial, I would look forward to it. Bizarre how someone with a like-minded wacky sense of humor can change something for you.
And, I'd like to think maybe I made his day a little too.
But alas, I had a BOYFRIEND all of those years [who I later married. And, divorced.] But I behaved and we were just friends.
Friends who kept in touch- like ACTUAL phone calls, when people made those.
And of course iChatting and text and eventually Facebook when that emerged. Through all those years we stayed friends, through my marriage, divorce, his girlfriend, etc.
A few months back we were catching up over some form of internet chat and I must've asked if he was still with his gf. He replied "nah, she moved."
Interesting.
He's always wanted to come to NYC and I told him again he was welcome now that he was a free man.
Yeah, sure, maybe, future, blah, blah kind of convo. Didn't think much more about it, until a few weeks ago when I found out I had to go to Portland for business and my trip was butting right up to a weekend. Hmm...
-West coast
-Summertime
-Van has a boat [sends me pics frequently from said boat]
-Good friend Tata in Vancouver for a shoot for a month, so...friend to see, place to stay (if I needed it).
Yes, my friends. The wheels were a' spinning!
So I hit Van up to see if he'd be around and able to hang with me. He was! However due to some FB confusion, I got nervous that he may have gotten back together with his gf so I felt the need to double-check on this. Not that I wouldn't have wanted to see him even if he was attached, but let's get real here. This isn't called "Lindsey's MISadventures in Friendship," now is it? Right.
But how to ask this question without seeming insane? A-ha!
ME: "Also, will your gf be annoyed if you spend time showing me around?"
HIM: "I am sans gf. In other words, no one's the boss of me."
Oh yeah.
It's on like a backwards thong!
Pulled the trigger, bought the tickets, done and done. Why the hell not, right?
One day I will hopefully look back and think "I'm glad I did whatever the hell I wanted to when I had absolutely nothing tying me down." Let's just hope I survive to see that day.
In Portland, my colleagues and I had a lovely hour-long discussion about advertising (initiated by yours truly) with Jack McBrayer, aka Kenneth from "30 Rock" at the weird hotel bar. How random is that? AMAZINGLY nice guy, btw. Exactly as you'd expect him to be.
That was pretty much the highlight of my biz trip, and as it was wrapping up, I actually started to get a bit nervous about seeing Van. I mean, it don't think I've been back since '04, and we've never been single at the same time. Plus, what if he doesn't even like me like that? What if he just thinks of me like a "dude?"
AHHH!
Am I really in my 30's and having this kind of internal dialogue with myself?
[Apparently.]
But Van offered to pick me up at the airport, so that was a good first sign. Plus I knew no matter what, I'd have a good time with him. Impossible not to.
He showed up at the airport and looked just as handsome as I remembered, only with just a few gray hairs beginning to show. Funny, I remember thinking that 11 years older than me was, like, a LOT when I first met him. Now, it seems like nothing.
He suggested we go immediately to a nearby bar on the water called "The Flying Beaver" to have the famous Canadian drink he introduced me to years ago called a Bloody Caesar. It's kind of like a Bloody Mary, only WAY awesomer.
As we drove over there, he made a wrong turn and got kind of perturbed with himself for it. I told him it really wasn't a big deal and not to beat himself up. After several cocktails in, he revealed to me that he knew EXACTLY where he was going, he just got distracted by my LEGS.
HAHAHAHA!!!!!
That may be one of the best compliments my legs have ever received.
After several lackluster Flying Beaver Caesars, we set off for better Caesars and, my favorite, oysters.
If you've never been to Vancouver, you should know the seafood is so fresh it practically swims up to the table and flops onto your plate. INSANITY. The oysters are so good I had to be careful not to O.D. on them like I did several years ago. Not pretty.
Also, before the trip, I had a talk with myself that went something like this:
"Self, please do not drink too much too fast so that you drink yourself right out of the equation, like times in the past."
And, I really did somehow maintain my wits, despite a marathon of day-drinking! Mostly because I stuck to beer, but STILL. Props to me.
While we were catching up, talking about music since we're both obsessed, he said "Hey! We should try to catch a show while you're here!" So we looked and found that Les Savy Fav was playing that night and we'd both been wanting to see them. Since tickets were no longer avail online, we called and the venue told us to just come by at 8:30p and buy tix there. Done and done!
Since the venue was close to his home and it was already late afternoon, we headed over to that area. Mind you, I still had NO idea where I would be residing for the night! He had never said "Oh, you should stay with me." And I don't ever assume anything when it comes to guys. EVER. So I just rolled with it. And as we rolled up to his house, he told me to bring my bags in because there's a lot of theft in Vancouver, apparently. So, I obliged. And, asked no questions. At that point, I'd had roughly 7 beers and 2 Bloody Caesars and figured I'd probably end up where my stuff was. Which, was exactly what I wanted. [Check.]
We sat on the couch for awhile and I removed my boots to find horrible ugly sock lines on my legs! I couldn't hide my dismay of that hideous site on my only sexy lady feature! So, when Van saw my unrest, he had me sit on the couch and he gave me an incredible leg massage.
HELL-O!
So...yeah. Maybe it's on?
He successfully got my legs back to working order, just in time for me to put my boots back on. Road sodas in hand [ie beers-on--the-go], we got in a cab and headed to buy tickets at the venue in Gastown, or as I like to call it, "Junkieville!"
Okay, so the junkies hang out a block away from the swanky coolness of Gastown, but still. There's some incredible "theater" happening over there!
So, we get to the venue to buy the tickets at 8:30p. And....they inform us the band will be on at 11:30p!
Oh.
So, we've been drinking ALL day.
Are stuck in Gastown due to previously-stated drinking all day.
And now have THREE hours to kill before the show.
No bigz.
TO THE BARS!
[Silent prayer: Hey, God. It's me, Lindsey. Please allow me to not get black-out drunk tonight and ruin things. I mean, besides my liver. A-men!]
Want more story? Stay tuned....
And, I really did somehow maintain my wits, despite a marathon of day-drinking! Mostly because I stuck to beer, but STILL. Props to me.
While we were catching up, talking about music since we're both obsessed, he said "Hey! We should try to catch a show while you're here!" So we looked and found that Les Savy Fav was playing that night and we'd both been wanting to see them. Since tickets were no longer avail online, we called and the venue told us to just come by at 8:30p and buy tix there. Done and done!
Since the venue was close to his home and it was already late afternoon, we headed over to that area. Mind you, I still had NO idea where I would be residing for the night! He had never said "Oh, you should stay with me." And I don't ever assume anything when it comes to guys. EVER. So I just rolled with it. And as we rolled up to his house, he told me to bring my bags in because there's a lot of theft in Vancouver, apparently. So, I obliged. And, asked no questions. At that point, I'd had roughly 7 beers and 2 Bloody Caesars and figured I'd probably end up where my stuff was. Which, was exactly what I wanted. [Check.]
We sat on the couch for awhile and I removed my boots to find horrible ugly sock lines on my legs! I couldn't hide my dismay of that hideous site on my only sexy lady feature! So, when Van saw my unrest, he had me sit on the couch and he gave me an incredible leg massage.
HELL-O!
So...yeah. Maybe it's on?
He successfully got my legs back to working order, just in time for me to put my boots back on. Road sodas in hand [ie beers-on--the-go], we got in a cab and headed to buy tickets at the venue in Gastown, or as I like to call it, "Junkieville!"
Okay, so the junkies hang out a block away from the swanky coolness of Gastown, but still. There's some incredible "theater" happening over there!
So, we get to the venue to buy the tickets at 8:30p. And....they inform us the band will be on at 11:30p!
Oh.
So, we've been drinking ALL day.
Are stuck in Gastown due to previously-stated drinking all day.
And now have THREE hours to kill before the show.
No bigz.
TO THE BARS!
[Silent prayer: Hey, God. It's me, Lindsey. Please allow me to not get black-out drunk tonight and ruin things. I mean, besides my liver. A-men!]
Want more story? Stay tuned....
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