Morgan's tale of sex and frolic

Let me tell you a tale as it unfolds of a girl's experiences most true and profound. She is a girl of 28, a worldly and educated sort who once upon a time had the convenience of falling into a great and spiraling love, an almost mythical kind of love (mirroring those of the Greek gods), which would eventually end in an equally thunderous and tumultuous way. Since her unprecedented heartbreak, she has been meeting and cavorting with several young male companions, usually with the assistance of her sophisticated friend, Sauvignon. Her name: Morgan. Her ambition: lawyer. Her bad luck: men.
The tale must be told, of Morgan's experiences with the opposite sex, since her union with her first love was brought to an end. These experiences are bound to shock, marvel and astonish, but alas, they must be told, as they are all based on true events. There must no doubt be a force trying to reckon with Morgan. It is only a wonder what kind of karma she must have pissed off.

The tale begins...

Tuesday, 26 July 2011

Maple syrup with bacon

It's been a week since the "big move". Toronto feels bigger, younger and trendier than I remember. I moved into a one bedroom condo on the 20th floor. The apartment building is brand new (as are all the buildings nearby) and is five minutes from the harbour front. Everywhere you look, you'll see chic gay couples on rollerblades or bikes, bronzed legs with skin-tight shorts (butt cheeks half hanging out), and miniature dogs on leashes. I feel like I've just stepped on to the set of The Hills. This is not good for my ego. I will have to join a gym and get myself some self-tanner immediately. I will not be beaten by age and certainly not by blondes!

Speaking of blondes (of which my London friends did not consist), a special thank you to the following:


Dog, I miss you coming to me everyday to tell me how you think you're getting fired, how you've been to the gym only to consume an entire cheese cake within minutes of your workout, and how your nose moves when you laugh at other people's misfortunes. 

IT family support, you're still funny even when I can't understand you through your Irish accent. This is a great gift. I miss you and your very pretty future Mrs IT family support.

Will, I miss discussing men and their flaws with you. I miss our jokes, the back of your head, and seeing your huge smile every single day (never a sad face did I see on you).

Tweedle, my first friend at work, I miss our long talks over several bottles of wine, our endless giggles over the silliest of things, our dinner and dessert outings, and your face, I miss your face.

Thoreau (formerly known as Oxford A), in the great words of Celine, "you were my strength when I was weak; you were my voice when I couldn't speak; you were my eyes when I couldn't see; you saw the best there was in me". I couldn't have done it without you. 

Orion, you were there when my dream came true and you cried with me. I miss your calmness, your bluntness and your cheeky smile.

Foxy Toxi, you are so beautiful, inside and out. I miss everything about you. Don't worry, I will still find a way to embarrass you from over here!

Special K, I think we were sisters separated at birth. You cheap MOFO!!

Flame, you are the father I never had, the brother I've always wanted and the friend I'll never forget. 

I miss you and love you all. These few simple words of gratitude (which I should have posted sooner) can't do justice to the wonderful memories you've given me. If I find friends half as kind-hearted, witty, loving, generous, and alcohol-friendly as you, I will consider myself lucky. Thank you for being the most amazing family.

Stouty will be here in just a few weeks... now to get me into shape and a few shades darker!
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