The past twenty four hours have been XXXciting.

Last night was a balmy fifteen degrees in Toronto. Girls broke out the skirts and sandals, smokers were wearing T Shirts.

To celebrate S and myself headed out to 6 degrees for some Spanish entertainment. It was wonderful. We shook our bon bons, drank candy apple martinis (my new most favorite drink in the world) and flirted with boys with/without accents.

I am particularly fond of the few odd ‘characters’ that show up to these events. Like last night there was the Japanese fellow, 50+ who asked me to dance. I said why not and headed out to the floor. I handed S my glass, at which time Dude took off his glasses and asked S to hold it. The look on S’s face was priceless, I almost died of laughter. The way I see it is, the few old cats who still don their tight black pants on a Tuesday night to dance the night away deserve some attention too. I hope I am having some fun at their age.

Another highlight of the night, (for the men at least), was a hot Latina chica who showed up dressed in a body fitted black dress that had teensy buttons up the side, with a huge slit. The dress barley covered her behind to begin with, so the slit was high. It was quite outfit and Latina knew she was there to get some attention (if not action.) The girl was beautiful and confident. The thing is when you dress like that your pretty much sending a very poignant message to men. Truth be known she made me feel old, because even though I enjoyed her confidence and can remember days when I used to don similar daring outfits, I couldn’t help but shake my head at her.

A dude got on my nerves last night too. S was off with her Cuban squeeze and I was standing by the bar doing my thing, when non attractive token Indian dude comes over. First he makes some corny comment about how I’m not smiling. Telling someone they are not smiling, will not make them want to smile. Then he asks me if I know the guy I was dancing with. I said yea he’s a friend. Then he says, “What’s his name?” Like it’s a test. For a minute I genuinely forgot so I said,….er…its….and Random Dude totally goes off, like I was pretending to know the guy just to get random dude off my case. (In retrospect, this probably happens to him a lot, given his Fugly attitude, so his concerns may have been warranted.) The rest of the night, every time Random found me alone, he would come up and say something sarcastic like, “Do you want to dance, OH I mean, not with me, because your too good for me.” At some point my good humor left me and I said, “Yeah dude I am too good for you, now F*^$ off.” (And I never swear!)

Today I made an offer on an itsy bitsy condo. I am so psyched about it, I can’t think of anytime else. Mainly I am wavering between utter panic and utter happiness at the thought of it.