Confessions of a Chick in Paris

Confessions of a Chick in Paris

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Re-Cap of a Beautiful Life in 2010

January 2, 2011 , , , , , , , , , ,

I used to think that in order to have a yearly re-cap, I had to be a mom who writes generic Christmas letters every year, to be sent to friends and family who rejoice in the information; how little Billy grew a whole three inches, how the husband shot a three-under-par in his company’s annual golf tourney, and how teenage Lizzie got her first job working at McDonald’s. That’s right, Lizzie is going to put herself through college, we are so effing proud…

…Yes, that’s what I believed in the age before the Internet, when I was fourteen years old, without a husband, without a son named Billy in the midst of a thrilling growth spurt, and without a teenage daughter who will actually use her income on push-up bras and beer. In those long and tortured years, while my dream of teenage motherhood slipped by, I kept my yearly re-caps to myself. It was repressive, and explains my cry for attention in adulthood.

The Internet however, with its illusions of social engagement, answers the call of the hapless loner, the call of the rambling serial killer, the call of the spinster cat-lady,  and the call of me (all of the above?).  And so, like any good creepy cyber-stranger would do, I shall share with the world some intimate reflections on the year

Second-most embarrassing moment of the year:

-I found a song by Nick Lachey (of “98 Degrees” boy-band fame) on my iTunes, having no recollection of when I’d actually purchased the syrupy track.

First-most embarrassing moment of the year:

-I proceeded to listen to the Nick Lachey ballad mentioned above…repeatedly. It’s called “What’s Left Of Me” and I have it memorized.

The best thing I said in 2010:

-Imagine what kind of asshole I’d be if I wrote down the things I said in conversation, referred back to them, then rated them based on my own scale of “awesome.” To everyone in life: don’t ever do that, please.

Cruelest realization that I’m getting older:

-I noticed my first ever “cleavage-wrinkles”.  I immediately did some Google research, only to discover that the more often you wear push-up bras, the more premature cleavage-wrinkles you’ll be stuck with. Giving up push-up bras would be like crippled Tiny Tim giving up his crutches, so instead I’ve been applying “Oil of Olay” on my boob wrinkles every night since late September. Whilst gently weeping. I feel unpretty.

Biggest guilty pleasure of 2010:

-Pretending I hate it when creepy brown guys stare at me at the gym, but doing a scan of the gym every thirty seconds when I’m on the elliptical. To see if they’re watching. Because I secretly like the attention. Yes, I’m a whorish tease.

Biggest regret of 2010:

-That I forgot to use my Shoppers Drug Mart “Free Ten Dollars on Any Purchase” card, which I received for spending over fifty dollars before tax on a previous purchase. I could’ve gotten fresh mascara with that but noooo, it just had to expire on December third. It remains in my wallet to this day, taunting me…

Best hairstyle of 2010:

-That time I sort-of-but-not-fully-curled seventy-percent of my locks, so they looked tousled and wavy, but not like I tried too hard. It was in March on a day trip to Buffalo. We had dinner at the Olive Garden and I wanted to look hot.

Worst hairstyle of 2010:

-When I forget to wash my hair for approximately six days during a writing-induced haze (“Romi, the North Pole called, they want  their snow back. No wait, that’s just your dandruff. Never mind, keep that shit away from the Artic Circle.“)

Biggest potential for romance that started in 2010:

-There is this German or Austrian guy who works at the Indigo bookstore near my work (nationality undetermined, due to varying octaves of speech). The first time I met him he renewed my “Indigo Rewards” membership. It’s my third year being a member, but only the first time an Indigo employee went through EVERY coupon in the booklet to explain the definitions (“This? It’s five dollars off a purchase of forty dollars or more. So when you spend over forty, you MUST use this! Are you listening?!”). So the coupon-reading was kind of like our awkward first date.

The second time I met him I was purchasing a trashy yet sweeping historical romance novel for my best friend’s birthday, along with a tin of hot chocolate. This gift was a joke, a JOKE I tell you, but to an unsuspecting Indigo worker, it appeared that I was a desperate woman reading romance tales and drinking gallons of hot chocolate on lonely Friday nights. To my surprise he wasn’t deterred, instead agreeing that a wonderful book and a steaming big cup of  hot chocolate are an excellent combination. I still suspect that he was picturing me reading that tripe in the bathtub whilst attending to my physical “pleasure-needs”, but I ain’t no Megan Fox here with a zillion options; take what you can get and give thanks.

The third time I saw him I was buying discounted books about Ancient Egypt. So now he thinks I’m smart and is in love with my brain. Onward with 2011, because it’s time to give him my number…

***

So that’s my year. Even though it had some low-lights you wish you were me, I can feel it. Maybe you’d like to steal my life in 2011, like that girl did in the cinematic thriller  “Single White Female”. It can certainly be done, and while “Single Brown Female” has an excellent ring to it, this freak-show is MINE, if you steal it I am nothing but a soul-less bag of bones…why would you do that to me? Jerk.

PS: Consider this my return from a blogging hiatus.

Write you soon,

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comments

Wow Romi. I can’t believe that you have cleavage wrinkles. You’re not even 30 yet. What ARE YOU GOING TO DO?! This is horrible. I don’t think I can face 2011 now.

David

January 3, 2011

Look away, I’m hideous.

Romi

January 9, 2011

OK I’m over it. I think that you ARE beautiful. So there. Even if you listen to sappy music and have dandruff. It’s these little things that will help your parents find you a good husband some day.

BUT SERIOUSLY, thanks for coming back to these pages. I missed you here. You still funny despite all your other flaws, you whorish tease you!

David

January 3, 2011

This made me laugh, a lot. It has always been my dream to be a beautiful and amusing whorish tease with dandruff, yay! 🙂

Romi

January 9, 2011

Dammit, I did that too with my Shoppers $10 off coupon!

Also, I forgive you for the Nick Lachey song. There may be a smattering of Amanda Marshall songs still on my iPod. Also some Brand New. And yet I haven’t deleted either, so clearly I’m in no position to judge 😛

And who DOESN’T tart it up for the Olive Garden??? I wanted to go on my last vacay but we didn’t have time. Next time I will go, tart myself up extra, and think of you while waiting for my delicious bread sticks 😀

Emerald

January 3, 2011

Hahahaha…Amanda Marshall!!! “My money’s riding on this dark horse baby, my heart is saying it’s the lucky one.”….HAHAHAHA 😀

PS: OMG to “the tastes of Italy” entree, I don’t care if it’s a shame to “real” Italian food, it’s good, just like Chinese food! 😀

Romi

January 9, 2011

OMG I’m sooo glad you’re back! Hilarious as usual, but I’ve come to expect nothing less. I have no guilt listening to Nick Lachey’s “What’s Left of Me,” though I actually prefer “Shades of Blue” same album. Thank you Mom for having a horrible taste in music and forcing me to listen to the cd.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE start documenting every interaction (no matter how minute and seemingly insignificant) with Indigo bookstore boy and write a book about it. PLEASE!

Here’s to more blogging in 2011!

rachelhamm

January 3, 2011

Hahaha, yay for your mom for shining you on to Nick Lachey, that’s amazing 🙂

PS: OMG, I kind of had another interaction on Friday, but I need to process it a bit more before documentation…and thanks for reading Rach! 🙂

Romi

January 9, 2011

Olive Garden?

Greg

January 6, 2011

Now, now, I like an authentic mom ‘n pop Italian restaurant as much as the next guy, but we don’t have Olive Garden in Canada and I feel deprived!! 🙂

Romi

January 9, 2011

Funny you mention those cleavage wrinkles–I’ve always found them attractive. In my late twenties, I dated a beautiful woman in her early fifties, for a short time. And I loved placing my face on her cleavage wrinkles and the warm skin in which they were cradled. There is something matronly about cleavage wrinkles, thus comforting.

Scott

January 6, 2011

That’s quite a lot of info, haha…umm thanks? 🙂

Romi

January 9, 2011

Wow did you hear that? He thinks cleavage wrinkles are attractive and matronly. I bet that makes you feel a lot better. I am glad you are back too. Happy new year.

maleesha

January 9, 2011

I feel SO much better my confidence is renewed, bring on the boob-wrinkles! 😉

PS: Happy New Year to you too! Gonna catch up on reading this week, good to be back 🙂

Romi

January 9, 2011

Good luck with Indigo-Boy! woooooooHooooo!

Care

January 21, 2011

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