Woozy Wednesday: Shades of Green

I was pregnant with Freddy when we decided to get another kitten. There was a sweet little blue point Himalayan available in Vancouver, so we drove out there to meet our new family member. She lived with her people in this eclectic, super funky house and they had the coolest interior decor. But in the corner, surrounded by shelves of books and a humble side table was this shiny lime green chair, and I fell in love. The people promised me that if they ever moved and had to get rid of it, they'd phone me first. They didn't. And it's been what, twelve years? And I'll never get it out of my head. But I'll find it one day, ohhhhh I'll find it.

When I am 80 years old and sitting gnarled up in my green pleather armchair, I will look back at my life and think three things: 1) what the fuckitty fuck was THAT, 2) thank you Jesus Santa God for underwire bras and 3) even at the cost of my pride, there are just some things I will never regret. Like for instance, the time my kids' principal picked up my lacy underwear, or when I started the Seattle marathon at the half marathon time and ended up getting passed by all the Olympians like a fat kid on sports day. And the best of the best, the night that Melody and I knitted mustaches and dressed up like Dave Babych and went to one of his games.

The night started out innocently enough. I knitted up a couple of brown mustaches and brought some plain white tee shirts over to Melody's house where we cracked open some lime green coolers (MISTAKE OF THE CENTURY) and proceeded to draw images of Dave on our shirts. I grew up watching the Canucks with my dad, and Babych was one of my favourites because he wasn't everyone else's favourite. He was a tough guy with a mustache. He was original. I liked him.

I love the masking tape peeking out behind my mustache

We showed up at the game in our garb and Babych was incredulous that we'd be his superfans that night. He skated over and got his picture taken with us which was later publicized in the paper. It was a fun night. But when we got home, I couldn't stomach that sugary neon lime green drink anymore. It was so disgusting.

I guess I'm a purist. If I'm going to have a drink, I'll drink wine or beer, but vodka sugar bombs make my knees buckle. The only funky lime green element that belongs in my life is that coveted pleather chair.