No car for me

It's day 13 of Lent. Still no sweets. I'm doing well, though I'd really like a slice of chocolate peanut butter pie. Oh yes. There's this pie place in Kensington called Wanda's and I had a slice of that awesomeness a couple years ago and I never forgot about it. I went back not long ago and discovered it's a pie you have to specially request them to make for you. So I was plumb lucky the first time I went in that it was there at all.

The closest thing to dessert for me lately has been indulgent cheeses and maple coffee. Actually, though, the maple coffee is boss. It's serious heaven. The Dude and I got it at Kortright Centre for Conservation yesterday. It comes in these small little packages for roughly $5. So kind of expensive and obviously more difficult to get than your average cup 'o Joe.

The Dude and I saw a musician yesterday, for our ceremony music. We had to go out to Oakville, and so we rented a Zipcar for the day (which we then took to the conservation centre). It's so odd being in a car these days. I rely almost entirely on the TTC and my own feet to get me from point A to point B, and the car is mindblowingly convenient in comparison. Of course, not having a spare $600 each month for a car holds the Dude back from getting one. Plus, we still need to sort out Rogers on his damn credit report. The jerks over there still haven't sorted out the issue yet. Ridiculous.

As for me getting a car, I don't have a license. My dad tried to make me get one when I was 17. I failed the first test and passed the second one. My aunt/godmother tried to teach me to drive on her car (my dad's "car" was, quite frankly, a hazard: broken seatbelt on the driver's side and a jiggly steering wheel). She was a good teacher, but I was a poor student. I couldn't handle putting my foot on the gas. I was terrified of hitting people. I wanted to let everyone pass me, despite the rules of the road.

We went for two driving sessions and no more. I knew I was not meant for it.

I've always had massive issues with being totally alert to my surroundings. I slip into my own little world with no warning. I'm unobservant of my environment. I'm timid when it comes to crossing the street. I don't ride a bike because I'm worried about being hit by a car. If I were driving, people would be in danger. I'd be the one everyone else would complain about.

Thankfully, I have two things going for me: The dude is an excellent driver and loves it, and I live in a city that has very adequate public transit. I can take the bus into other cities I want to visit. I'll be one of those TTC moms. I'm not concerned.

Of course, nothing stops people from telling me I need my license "just to have", which I don't understand. What's the point of having something that I'll never ever use? I shouldn't be on the road and having something that entitles me to be out there is not good for public safety. I've actually been told not to have children if I don't plan to drive. Yeah, seriously. Neither of my two grandmothers drove, and had 13 kids between them, and one of them held a nursing job on top of it all. And they didn't even live in a metropolis where you can step outside and have buses, subways and streetcars on all sides of you. But other people thinking they know what's best for the women they know is nothing new, is it?

But enough of my "I don't drive" rant.

Update on the wedding planning, we've signed up for a wedding ring workshop at The Devil's Workshop in May. The workshop is six hours, $300 plus materials, and we make a ring for each other. We went in to choose styles and materials. Total cost for both our rings: $750. That's less than the cost of one simple band from the average store. We're really looking forward to it. It'll be a fun day for us and how romantic is it to make your own rings?

And now we have our ceremony music covered. This guitarist will play as guests arrive, while I walk down the aisle, when we sign the registrar and as we all leave the ceremony. I really like the idea of live music. It's charming and this way no one needs to fuss with an iPod dock or laptop or something.

We've also located an excellent officiant. She performed the ceremony for The Dude's brother's wedding last October. We meet with her in May. It's nice to have someone you've seen "in action". She was so dignified and well spoken.

I have a florist appointment tomorrow. We're not having flowers as centrepieces, so I'm not anticipating a huge cost. I have some ideas for bouquets, but mostly I'm pretty open to whatever will be in season and within a small budget. Once that's out of the way, I'll be done with all the major vendors.

There's about seven and a half months to go. Feeling pretty good.

We also have to call Rogers tonight to further discuss their BS. That, I'm less enthused about.

Lent

There's something inherently nail-biting for me about having my landlord show my apartment. I always feel so judged and up for inspection, which really I am. And in this instance, it's also a look at potential new upstairs neighbours. I also hear what's being offered, and it's higher rent, higher utilities, and meanwhile the Dude and I have negotiated a wildly good deal for the downstairs apartment, so I also feel unnerved knowing that in comparison the upstairs place isn't such a steal.

Oh, but it's hopefully done now. I shouldn't let it rattle me so much, but it does. It's not like I am against the place being shown whatsoever, either. I just somehow feel guilty. I think because, again, we made such a good deal and I get concerned that we'll be judged more harshly on how we keep the place. That, and I have a tendency towards neurosis in a couple areas of life, like business and haggling, which essentially this is.

In a completely unrelated matter, I've decided for the first time in about eight years that I'm going to do Lent again. I grew up with it and it always did me some good. There's no real reason to throw away something so beneficial for me simply because I've lost my faith in Catholicism. I can pick and choose what I want for myself.

So I've given up dessert. No cake, chocolate, ice cream, or any other sugary treat that could be dessert material, like pastries, tarts, cookies, squares, mints...

It's day four and I'm not climbing up the walls. Frankly, I'm astounded. I'm not even fighting the temptation. It's weird. I eat sugary treats every single day. They please me, they make me happy, I love them, etc. I think it's the combination of having posted my decision on Facebook (Thus making me feel accountable to over 200 people in my list-- whether they care is besides the point), and the fact that while I don't know for certain whether any deity exists or not, I have just made a promise to whatever's out there and I dare not break my word just in case.

I do all sorts of things my former religion tells me not to,and quite happily, but as an adult I never freely agreed to those rules, so nuts to it. This however is a commitment.

When the weather started to really get ass and I started allocating money elsewhere, dance went by the wayside. Temporarily, but still. I've lost muscle tone and have gained a bit of flab. So frankly, I could use the opportunity of Lent to reduce my calorie intake. We'll see what happens.

The Dude came home from Cobb's bakery this evening and told me they were selling a St. Patty's day scone that was chocolate mint. I could've killed him.

Me: Why'd you tell me that?!
Dude: What?
Me: Now I know about it and I can't have it! Damn you!
Dude: Well, do you want me to buy you one and freeze it?
Me: ...Yes.