It seriously doesn't get any better. Monday, May 14, 2007I'm going to attempt to describe my awesome weekend, and the reason I say attempt is there is a serious possibility that it might be something that cannot be communicated with words.
Clearly I had a fantastic time on Saturday night, I was perfectly happy to blog about it at 2am-ish after having several lovely cocktails. I'll admit that I'm impressed with my spelling and lack of typos, not that I was entirely inebriated but rather that perfect twilight where everything is just a bit fuzzy around the edges and you feel all sparkly and perfection.
Friday night, as boring as it may sound, was spent cleaning and reading. I scrubbed the floor in the bathroom and then set about cleaning the tub. I understand this it sounds terribly lame but really it needed to be done and there is that mildly euphoric high that comes when your apartment smells of nothing but clean and freshness. I'm sure the high can be attributed to inhaling all those wonderful cleaning chemicals. No one gets me higher than Mr. Clean, that man has the shit.
Saturday I got up early and went on a benefit bike ride with Summer for a local charity. 19.73 miles and 2 hours later I was exhausted. My legs were jello, and I wanted beer. But first we needed to eat lunch at the benefit (it was FREE! for bikers), and get hit on by a boy who was still in high school. Getting hit on was not included in the fee for the bike ride, but seriously they should consider adding it. Nothing pumps your ego more that a young man who is hitting on you even though you probably smell and are sweat covered and encased in spandex pants.
Although I think Summer looks entirely too good for having just riden 19.73 miles while I look like the victim of bitchslapping.
After that immensely gratifying experience we headed out to Summer's to chill in the hot tub and drink beer. Of course I got a bit of an odd sunburn on my face, because I'm nothing if not prone to having strange sunburns. This one centered on the left side of my forehead. Awesome.
Saturday evening was set up for grandness with dinner at one of my favorite local restaurants. Listen up people, I ate about 10 mussels. Me! The girl who shuns mussels and clams! I'm not the hugest fan of seafood but as I get older more and more of it seems to grow on me. It started with crab, crab was my gateway drug. Still is my seafood drug of choice. Give me hot butter and endless crab and you'll be amazed by what I can put away.
After that it was time for a post dinner cocktail and a really loud band at one of our usual bars. Nothing special. But then it was time to dance.
I've been dying to go dancing for over a month and half now, and if I lived in any sort of regular town I might have fulfilled that need long ago. But I don't, there isn't much dancing to be had in this one horse town. But once a month, there is Open Doors. It is the GLBT sponsored dance night, (that's Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgendered). Of course straight people are invited too. So I danced my ass off with my friends for several hours getting all hot and sweaty. At that point my friends were a bit overwhelmed with my enthusiasm and I'm sure that not all of my moves were golden but who the fuck cares? I don't.
In short summation since this entry is already running long, I'll wrap up the rest of my night: Was told I looked lovely and had the perfect sort of glistening aspect to my skin by one of the other dancers (a lady! I got hit on by a girl AND a high school boy today- neither groups of people I'm interested in but still highly flattered.) Then my friend and I got carded at one of the bars, the bounced told us we looked entirely too young to be in a our late 20s. Then the bartender asked to see our stamps indicating we were 'of age', again how young do we look?
The evening was wrapped up with me arguing with the hot dog cart guy. Seriously, dude, I don't want chili on my hot dog. Just give me a plain dog so I can go home and douse it in Stadium Mustard. I think I must of stood there for 5 minutes arguing with him, I should have walked away but I really wanted that motherfucking hot dog.
And Sunday was spent being leisurely and trying out a new Alton Brown recipe (a more detailed post on that coming soon). With a nice long nap thrown in for good measure.
I don't think it could have been any more perfect.