This is not a post with a recipe, as much as I want it to be. I still haven't been able to kick the malaise that has settled in the area of my brain that likes cooking, and the discovery of Sobey's new light pistachio ice cream isn't helping.
Mmmm, I want cupcakes. And also to show you the sparkles on my wall as the sun peeked through the ivy on my window at 5:00 yesterday morning.
This is also not a post about travelling, which is odd, since I really haven't talked that much about my last trip, and frankly, most of my non-food posts are about travelling.
This post does fall under what is probably my third-most-blogged-about topic: wacky adventures in the hospital. Yes, again. I was in the hospital yesterday for an arterial ultrasound, which was more than I bargained for - I swear, I didn't know they did ultrasounds on your heart. But they do, and my heart is LOUD. That's good, right? Loud implies power and enthusiasm, things you want in a heart.
Anyway, I won't bore you with the details of that, because what happened before my ultrasound is far more entertaining. I met Ray Charles. Yes, I know he's dead. Maybe it was his ghost. He had the same big cheesy grin, looked about the right age, and was a black man wearing big dark glasses. And he sang. Oh yes. But I should start from the beginning.
I arrived at admitting early, and found a line of people waiting ahead of me. Around the same time as I joined the back of the line, I noticed Ray strolling up the hallway from the other direction, and stopping beside the woman who was at the head of the line. He didn't say anything to her, but I didn't really think anything of it - the hospital is always full of people who are just waiting for someone else, or don't know where they need to be, and I spend enough time there that I don't really bother trying to figure them out anymore. As the line moved, he just stayed there, by the big poorly-worded sign directing people to wait for the next available nurse there. A few times as he came into my field of view, I noticed he was looking at me. I smiled, because why not? And he smiled back. When I got to the front of the line, he was still there, still smiling at me.
"Are you waiting?" I gestured that he could take the spot in front of me, since we had arrived at about the same time, and I was still plenty early. He shook his head.
"You were here before me, you go ahead," he smiled. I asked if he was sure, I thought we had arrived simultaneously. "No, I was watching you on the sidewalk outside - so you were ahead of me."
Sketch by Stan.
I laughed a bit nervously, and took my spot at the front of the line. He continued to stand beside me and smile. "You're pretty."
I smiled. "Thanks."
"No, I mean really pretty. You have beautiful hair. And your eyes are beautiful too."
I blushed. A lot. I don't take compliments well. "Thank you."
"I wish I could see you."
Now I was confused. Despite my initial comparisons to Ray Charles, I had assumed this man could see. After all, he was walking in, unassisted, with no cane. And he had kept smiling at me in line when I looked at him - how would he have known? And he was saying I was pretty - while I would find it totally believable that he'd have to be blind to choose me to hit on, it would be an odd way for a blind man to try to pick up. But why would he say he wished he could see me? He was looking at me expectantly. He obviously expected a response. What was I supposed to say?
"Uhhh, see me?" Smoooooth.
"I wish I could see you, not in the hospital. Can I? Can I see you?"
Ohhhh. SEE me. I am an idiot. I blushed more, if that's even possible, and shook my head no. His smile got a little smaller, but he still smiled. The nurse at the far end of the line of admitting cubicles called for the next patient - I went and took my seat in her cubicle, grateful for a decent excuse to walk away. I breezed through all the usual questions and half-ignored the nurse's directions as to which way to go - I knew where I was going. I noticed as I walked away that Ray was seated in the first admitting booth now - he must have stepped into line right behind me. He didn't look as I turned down the long pink hall to Diagnostics, and I thought that really, he had been sort of sweet and flattering, and I hoped that, whatever he was here for, it wasn't serious.
Cute story. But you forgot the singing. I'm not done yet! I found a seat in the Diagnostic Imaging waiting room and pulled my phone out of my pocket to look for entertainment. I usually have a bit of a wait there. Before I could send a text or open Facebook or anything, there he was. Ray strolled into the room and sat down beside me, smiled, and started to sing. About my hair, and how lovely it was. People looked at us, some smiling, some looking more quizzical about this impromptu entertainment. I said nothing, just blushed more. I think my toes were blushing at this point. He sang for a good few minutes, and he was pretty good. I was rooted to my seat, not sure of how I would stop everyone looking at us. Nurses were coming in and out of the room, calling names that were not mine, nor his. Finally a doctor (or at least, someone in a lab coat, instead of scrubs) appeared at the door, and made his way straight to Ray.
"Landon! You went to the wrong place!" Landon? His name is still Ray in my mind.
Landon-Ray smiled and gestured at me. "I just came to sit next to her for a while." He rose, winked and waved goodbye, and followed the lab-coated man out of the waiting room. Sigh. It was quiet now, and soon enough, my fellow patients stopped looking at me curiously and went back to their magazines and sudoku puzzles. My cheeks cooled as my semi-permanent blush finally faded.
And then he was back. "I just came to say goodbye!" he waved from the doorway, and then he was gone.
I'm not sure how well I'm telling this. There is a distinct possibility that Landon-Ray comes off as really creepy. If someone was telling me this story as it happened to them, there's a good chance I would think it was creepy. But somehow it wasn't. Somehow it was sweet. Embarrassing as hell at the time, but sweet. I still don't know what he was at the hospital for, since apparently it was not diagnostic imaging.
But I hope he's ok.