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It’s Friday already? That seems a little hasty.

(Whenever I use the word hasty, I think of hasty pudding. And I don’t even know what hasty pudding is. Let me check right now.

Well, hmm. Seems kind of icky. But I’m probably just being… hasty. You so knew I was going to do that.)

Did you ever listen to the Cure? I think I did for a short time in high school, but I was put off by Robert Smith’s makeup. Not because I cared if he wore it or not, but because he didn’t always stay in the lines.

Have you ever watched an OCD child colour? It’s like brain surgery. With smelly markers. You really, really can’t make the blue of the sky bleed into the yellow of the sun. Or everyone willprobably die.

Well, maybe not die.

But certainly you might make part of the sun green, and then the climates of various countries (save for Ireland) would get really messed up.

But back to my point — Mr. Smith’s lipstick used to bleed all over his face. Which sounds violent. But it wasn’t… just kind of icky. I always wanted to take my Crayola Special Ink-Erasing Marker For Cleaning Up Edges ™ and clean him up.

Because I’m helpful. And I care about global warming.

Still. I really liked the song, “Friday, I’m In Love” (and other songs, too, but they aren’t the title of this post.) Which is, incidentally, the one song that I’ve seen all true Cure fans scoff at rather uniformly, in my experience. Because it was really “mainstream.” What? The Cure wasn’t mainstream? Anyway.

I don’t care if Monday’s blue
Tuesday’s gray and Wednesday too
Thursday I don’t care about you
It’s Friday I’m in love
Monday you can fall apart
Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart
Thursday doesn’t even start
It’s Friday I’m in love

Saturday, wait
And Sunday always comes too late
But Friday never hesitate…

It was a fun song. It had a good beat. You could dance to it. It made you feel like you were in a John Hughes movie when you listened to it (And not the Molly Ringwald depressed-little-rich-girl role, but like you could be Ally Sheedy after she put on the pink top in Breakfast Club. Like you might date Emilio Estevez! Before he married Paula Abdul.)

It also quite accurately reflected my romantic habits at the time, since I had a tendency to be a serial crusher and a bit of a flibberdegibbit.

I’m much less those things now, since I have found that you can break your heart far more effectively by being attached to the same person for years at a time. And I’m nothing if not a (self-) heartbreaker.

BUT.

I do develop crushes, still. And not just on cute, geeky boys who can discuss politics AND books AND who quote Jon Stewart AND don’t make faces at sushi.

On things. And stuff.

And since it’s Friday, I figured this was a good a time as any to celebrate those things. And put on a lot of red lipstick, slightly askew.

(I think I would probably develop an ulcer if I tried that. Props to Robert Smith. He’s a better man than me. Since I’m not, you know… a man. With red lips.)

I’m in love with watching tv with my roommate. Now, I’m not a huge tv watcher. I’ll put on a few key shows I enjoy or the hockey game, and that’s about it. Sometimes I have it rattling away in the background when I’m cleaning or working, but I don’t need it, per se.

I actually find that it’s more fun for me to watch tv with other people than to watch it alone, because I can enjoy their reactions to things and discuss weird stuff that comes up.I have this odd thing where I don’t laugh at tv at all. I just smile when things are funny.

But if other people are laughing, I’ll actually laugh, and this enables me enjoy it more.This makes me sound like an emotionless sociopath. But I’m not! I don’t know why I don’t laugh at the tv! I laugh at everything else!

But now I’m completely off-track.

Watching tv with Catherine is hysterical, because we find all the same things funny, or interesting, or shocking. It’s amazing, really. We even like all the same embarassing shows you shouldn’t admit to anyone you watch (notice I’m not admitting.) We also both enjoy shouting at the hockey game.

The only thing we don’t agree on is the morality/talent of media personalities.

You should watch us discuss Nancy Grace or Larry King. That’s a good time.

I love that Catherine doesn’t do any of the things that drive me bonkers when I watch tv with other people, like when people constantly ask about the plot or miss dialogue because they were talking at an inopportune time. Or — my favourite — when people say, “Oh, AS IF.” when something improbable happens.

Because, you know, we needed to you remind us it’s not real. Argh.

So, props to Catherine. Way to be compatible, televisionistically. And yes, that’s a word, dammit.

I’m in full tickle with the fact that it hasn’t rained measurably in Vancouver for AGES. It’s bizarre and scary and amazing all at once. What’s also scary is that we just looked outside our giant office windows, and there’s a huge cloud of smoke/fog lingering over downtown. What the hell is it doing? But anyhow, back to this weather.

I love knowing that I can curl my hair/apply mascara/wear flip flops, and not arrive at work a sodden mess.

It’s cool-ish, blue-skyish, coloured-leaves-ish, and so very, very nice to step out into.And you can see stars at night, when the temperature drops even more and it seems like a crime not to put on a sweater and go for a walk down to the pier.

Vancouver is a beautiful city, but it’s even more lovely when you don’t have to wrap yourself in cellophane to enjoy it. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Especially if you add a bow.

I’ve got a major crush on my cell phone. I used to hate cell phones. Why the hell would you want people to be able to get ahold of you all hours of the day and night? Why would you want to spend time going, “Sorry, I missed that, just in a bad spot…” in the midst of important conversations that you should actually be having at home?

Why would you want to make ungodly ringing sounds (or worse, play “Baby Got Back”) in the middle of a crowded bank? Or elevator? Or washroom? Or church?

But then I discovered the magic of texting, where you can communicate with everyone without actually having a conversation! No formalities! No awkward goodbyes! Just random notes that they can respond to at their leisure!Like blogging in little bits, directed towards the person who would enjoy it most. Or not.

But the person who will get it, at any rate. And the best part? If you put your phone on silent, NO ONE KNOWS WHAT YOU’RE UP TO. It’s brilliant. I can’t stop doing it.

I’m completely and utterly besotted with the following words: “hoopla”; “mollycoddle”; “umlaut”; “whoopdedoo”; “oscillate”; “orb”; “spelunk”; and “doppelganger.” I use them all at least once a day. Really. Sometimes in texts.

I am absolutely into really weird fruit right now. Starfruit, yali pears, pomegranates, champagne grapes, and tangelos are my favourite new tastes. You need to try them. I don’t know if you can get them anywhere. But seriously. GO NOW. It’s good for you.

I’m all kerblinky over the following musical artists: John Legend; Metric; Corinne Bailey Rae; Polyphonic the Verbose; Madeleine Peyroux; Serengeti; and Josh Ritter. That’s a pretty schizoid bunch of stuff to love, but that’s what my taste is all about. Look them up on iTunes! Seriously! Now!

I’m in a redecorating bananacake at the moment. I want new sheets! I want to buy art! I want to build my own headboard! I want to find antiques and refinish them! I want to haunt modern design stores and buy quirky pendant lamps! I want to put up mirrors! I want to create quilted shades! I want to CREATE. AND MAKE PRETTY.

This has resulted in obsessive magazine reading and decorating show-watching. Oh, and I’m totally wanting a contractor to screw me over, just so Mike Holmes will come redo my house.

I LOVE MY NEW BLOWDRYER. Ion-Ceramic! 1875 Watts! Cool button! Blast button! Cherry red metallic! I just hold the damn thing in my hand and my hair goes, “FINE. I DIDN’T WANT TO BE WET ANYHOW.”

I think that’s probably enough love for now. What are you in love with at present?