delicious juice dot com: unapologetically inappropriate

Well, fuck.

I had it all planned out: Lola is due for service, so I’ll drop her off on Friday before we leave for our trip and pick her up when we return. I made the appointment, entered it into my calendar, and gleefully checked it off my anal-retentive To-Do list.

Then Lola sprang a leak. I noticed a puddle under her when I left this morning, but didn’t think anything of it – it had been raining. When I got to the parkade this afternoon though, it was obvious she was dripping something. I inspected the wet but couldn’t place it – it wasn’t oil, it wasn’t water, and it wasn’t gas. What gives? I placed a panicked call to Ed – I may be an Independant Woman with all the sassy Beyonce songs that brings, but I fully admit that I am a mechanical dunce – I needed a knight in shiny armour; preferably one with a mop.

Ed figured the problem out quickly enough – Lola was leaking coolant. I called the shop to ask what I should do, and they suggested I bring her in immediately (as they closed in 18 minutes) and to be careful I didn’t go faster than 88 miles per hour (or as they put it, hotter than 20 degrees). I broke many laws in my race to West 4th, but Lola made it in one piece, before they closed, and without getting too hot or seizing.

So, I’m without Lola for who knows how long. I am a sad monkey who did NOT need this – I was already having a lousy day and now I am both convinced Lola is deathly ill AND missing Gina’s poutine Tweetup. This sucks.

I am currenty waiting in a Starbucks for Ed to come rescue me. I ordered myself a treat – a chai Frappucino, now that you can get them non-fat and all. I’ll keep the whipped cream, though. I’m having a bad day.

The two following things make me happy despite my growing anxiety:

Yesterday was Ed’s birthday, so the lot of us went out for dinner to celebrate. Our first choice in restaurants is closed on Mondays, so we cast about the internet for an alternate; settling on the highly rated House of Dosas.

We really had no idea what a dosa was or why there would be a house of them, but we were familiar with the location – we used to live in that area, and often drove past the place giggling at the name. Feeling adventurous and not really having any desire for our usual haunts, we made plans to meet for Ed’s birthday and eat our fill of whatever the hell a dosa was.

We soon learned that Monday is Dosa Night; everything on the menu was $5.99. Well! You can’t really go wrong for $5.99, so we converged upon two large tables and awaited the rest of our crew. The place was hopping; people were lining up to get in so we were glad to have gotten there early to hold our spots. Yeah, we’re bastards. Sucks to be other people.

The boys enjoyed beers named after (and possibly made of) various animals, while Shan, Pocket Barry and I drank our fill of mango lassi:

so thick and creamy

I hadn’t had a decent mango lassi since Calgary, so I was a little too delighted at the creamy goodness set before me. Darren ordered a plate of pakoras, which were spicy and delicious:

it's healthy coz it's vegetables

The main course arrived then, and it turns out that a dosa is an enormous, man-sized crepe:

i like my dosa like i like my men: 2 feet long and crispy

It’s hard to tell from the picture, but this thing was huge and daunting. Tasty, too, but the size was really the issue here: I hadn’t expected it to be so big (which, coincidentally, is what she said). It was good though, and we had fun tasting each other’s selections and talking Josh and Darren into sharing a Gun Powder Dosa (which may have contained actual gun powder; we never did clear that up). I did make the mistake of ordering a second mango lassi; the price of which turned out to be an evening of indigestion and anxiety – by 1:30am, I had figured that it wasn’t worth it but it was a little late for second thoughts.

The best part of the evening was probably the DJ – the House of Dosas has a DJ who spins and occasionally reminds you where you are, and that it is number one. Every time he got on the mic I laughed uncontrollably because it was WEIRD – but I am all about the weird, so that is okay with me.

In my excitement over yesterday’s ridiculous travel announcement I neglected to give a birthday shoutout to Ed – so happy birthday, yo. Here’s to another year of Good Times, with or without (but preferably with) extra dongs.

I would like the following things:

• The 9 (NINE) different things Canada Post is keeping from me to arrive already
• This anxiety attack to go away

It is no good inside my head today.