SassyGirl in the City: The Sequel

Traveling is never my favourite part of these stories, because it’s hard to recreate the anticipation of an event after the event has already occurred. So I’ll skip over the part where I woke up at six am in order to catch a bus to the train station only to realize the bus was never going to come and then selling an organ and a limb in order to pay the taxi fare to the train station and then being literally one second late for the train I was supposed to go on. Skip all that and fast-forward to when I finally arrive in Toronto - sweet, beautiful Toronto.

The restaurant we were meeting at was famous for their wine list, which was why I had picked it. The girls I’d invited were all chronically late, always, so I had figured we could just hang out at the bar and drink wine until everyone arrived. Unfortunately, the bar was closed, but fortunately, all my friends arrived relatively on time! We ordered a bottle of wine, had an excellent dinner, and discussed politics and world issues school and boys and our futures as the most powerful women in the world.
At one point during the dinner, SSS mentioned something about MFL.
“It’s cool that you’re still friends with MFL even though he cheated on you.”
“What? He didn’t cheat on me… Did he?” I added uncertainly.
“Oh, I guess not. They got together after you two broke up, right?” She knew she was treading on dangerous ground.
I tried to pry some information out of her without being too obvious. “Do you know what happened at Costa Rica? I heard some things after they came back from the trip but…”
“They just crushed on each other. Nothing happened.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. The Other Girl told me in confidence.” SSS nodded knowingly and that was the end of that.

After dinner, we headed to a nearby lounge where the boys were waiting for us. We started off with fruity summer cocktails (which I did not enjoy so much; I think I am just too manly for fruity cocktails, even though I love the glasses they come in and the colours and the little garnishes), and then ordered a bottle of ridiculously overpriced champagne because what the heck, I was turning the big two-oh, and if that wasn’t worthy of celebrating with a little bubbly, what is?
The champagne seemed to disappear incredibly quickly, and I was well on my way to Embarrassing Drunkard by the third “A toast! To Sassygirl! The most awesome person in the whole wide world!”

When the champagne was done, three of the girls left, and I was officially drunk. Eventually, SRB arrived and we left the lounge. They asked me what I wanted to do next. I looked around and shrugged, “What do you guys want to do?” I asked back. “Anything you want,” they said. I don’t know if it was the booze or what but right there and then, on the street in front of the lounge, in my sexy black stilettos and Victory Ford dress, I felt like a princess. A real life verifiable princess.
How many times have I heard that in my life? “Anything I want.” Probably about three times, and once was in first year when a guy wanted to get in my pants.
And today, today I’d heard it at least five times. FIVE.
I suddenly realized how the entire day was about me. Nay, the entire weekend, was about me and my happiness and nothing else. As if, for July 19, 20, and 21, the rest of the world did not exist. And these people, my friends, were gathered here to celebrate with me and cater to my every whim.
“Korean food,” I finally said. “I want dukbokki.”
So, off we went to find the finest Korean food Toronto had to offer at 2am. SRB drove us to Korea town, which was surprisingly busy considering the hour.
Three of us got out of the car first, then SRB and WAF drove off to find parking.
And that’s when it all went wrong.

Continue reading ‘SassyGirl in the City: The Sequel’.

Using a Tampon for The Very First Time

There’s a point in every girl’s life when she forcibly violates herself. It’s called, Using a Tampon for The Very First Time.
For me, Using a Tampon for The Very First Time occurred to me not once, not twice, but THREE times before I got the hang of it.

Three days ago, at precisely 3:56pm, I leveled up from Using a Tampon for The Very First Time. It was amazing. I should have held a graduation ceremony and invited everyone I’ve ever crossed paths with. I should have hung up a banner that read, “CONGRATULATIONS SG, ON LEARNING HOW TO USE A TAMPON!” and served finger food that… looks like finger food. Ahem.

Honestly, honestly, I’ve never been prouder of myself. You know what they say about facing your fears and overcoming them? Well, this has probably been one of them. It’s always been kind of an unknown, mysterious fear. Like the kind of fear you develop from watching people whiz by on a roller coaster screaming their lungs out, but you have never been on that roller coaster before, and all you feel is an unexplainable fear gripping you as it gets closer and closer to your turn.

To me, the dangers of using a tampon have been shrouded in more myth and mystery than fact. My mom told me that if I used a tampon before I’d given birth, it would hurt like hell. I don’t know what that woman was talking about. Maybe the tampons in China are the size of babies?
My friend told me that if I used a tampon before I’d had sex, I would basically be losing my virginity. Unless she has sexual intercourse with her tampon, I don’t see how that works.

All in all, it was a glorious couple of days spent with me and my newfound friend, the Tampon. For once, I did not have to go around wearing a diaper during That Time of Month, which would give me a raw bum by the end unless I refrained from all movement. For once, I could go swimming during That Time of Month if I wanted to!

A man’s best friend may be a dog, but a woman’s best friend is probably a Tampon.

I’m an equal-opportunity shopper.

This is why we have girlfriends, to remind us of the important things in life:
Me: I need shoes.
WAF: You don’t need shoes.
Me: Shut up. I need shoes.
WAF: No you don’t. You may need clothes, underwear, tampons, or even birth control pills, but not. shoes.
Me: No. I don’t need any of those things. I am perfectly happy naked, underwear-less, and tampon-less. And I definitely don’t need birth control pills, because I’m not sexually active. But, I need shoes.
WAF: Oh yeah, you’re still practicing that thing called “abstinence.” How’s that working out for you?
Me: Fine. It’s working out fine. I like it.
WAF: That’s just because you don’t know what it’s like any other way. [Pause] Omg! I got my period!!! I think!
Me: Congratulations? Between being constantly worried that I might be pregnant and knowing for sure that I’m not, I choose the latter.
WAF: If you go around naked wearing only hot shoes, I’m pretty sure that won’t last long.
Me: Good point. I’ll buy some ugly shoes to balance it out then.

—

I had a job interview today, and as soon as the interview was over, I went shopping.
I didn’t mean to do it of course, but the Fairweather beside it was having a sale! I just had to have a little peek. Besides, I made a pretty good impression during the interview - surely, she was going to give me the job, right? Of course.
So I went into Fairweather looking for a dress to wear this weekend for SassyGirl in the City Part 2. Actually, I already have a dress that I’ve decided to wear this weekend, but I had to keep an open mind. What if there was a better dress out there, just waiting for me to take it home with me? One musn’t be prejudiced about these things after all.
I didn’t find anything (Fairweather’s clothes were never good enough for me anyways, I sniff), but as I was walking out of the store, I picked up a skirt off the sale rack and paid for it. What? I deserve a little indulgence, it’s going to be my birthday soon! Besides, I’m sure I got that job.
As I was walking towards the bus stop, I noticed a small wine store. I don’t have any more wine in my apartment, I suddenly recalled, and promptly walked in and bought a bottle of 2006 Muscat. How could I call myself a city girl without a constant stash of alcohol at home?
Then I checked the bus schedule and realized I still had another half hour. I’ll just go into one more store, I thought. So I walked into another clothing store, wine bottle in hand and everything. I decided I would just find a pair of shoes to match the dress I had at home. I didn’t see any shoes that matched the dress, but I did find a ridiculously cute pair of black stilettos. Come on, black is sexy, timeless, and functional! Who didn’t need a good pair of black stilettos, right? Then I noticed a couple colourful tops and dresses on the wall and decided to try them on, too.
Two hours later, I had both salesladies at my beck and call and had tried on almost every top and dress the store owned. There were at least twenty discarded items outside my change room when I finally emerged victorious with a stunning strapless dress that was perfect for a night out on the town. It wasn’t on sale, but I could always keep the tag on and return it if I didn’t end up wearing it this weekend right? I congratulated myself on being so shrewd and told the cashier to ring it up. Just then, I noticed a very Victory-Ford-esque dress on the highest rack and had to try it on. So I did. And it was adorable. Even the lady in the change room beside mine said so.
“How much is that?” She asked. I showed her the price tag.
“You have to buy it. It looks like it was made for you.”
“I know right?”
I look like Victory Ford, I thought to myself as I examined my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t think it possible, but I do. I actually look like the fictional fashionista herself!