The thing about having a fun weekend is that your Monday morning turns out to be not so much fun. Not just because you have a case of the Mondays or because you have to work late or anything, but because you didn’t do your weekend chores, and hence you have nothing for breakfast, or lunch, and you’re not precisely sure where your black v-neck shirt is. It’s because instead of doing your laundry or going to the store you actually went out and had fun and were social.
So my Friday was not the best Friday ever, in that I was cranky and tired and sort of bedraggeled and unhappy. I went full time with the new J-O-B last week and while that’s very exciting in its own way it has also turned out, somehow, to be a little lonely and frustrating. I’ve gone from working in a very tight-knit office where everyone was always talking about American Idol and Stampin’ Up! parties and babies and foiling the boss’ office to an office where it’s just me alone in this huge room, shivering and reading academic article after academic article. Eventually there will be more people in here and eventually I’ll be seeing patients and so won’t have as much time on my hands. That’s what happens when you start up a grant. In three months I’ll be complaining about how much work I have to do, and I’ll look back on this time fondly. But still, I’m a little lonely and I don’t have much to do right now and I am conscious of the irony that I am supposed to be encouraging other people to exercise when I’m not very good at that thing myself.
So I wasn’t in a great mood on Friday. I was in an even less great mood when I discovered that My Friend Manya’s baby hit his head and freaked her out (they’re both okay,thankfully). Meanwhile, some friends were trying to have a girl’s night. I say trying because our various significant others just wouldn’t leave and they were putting somewhat of a damper on our deep desire to drink pink drinks and talk about weddings and babies and things of that nature. Yeah, I really am in my late (very late) twenties because like, that’s what we talked about. No sex, drugs, or rock-n-roll, although we did enjoy listening to the new Nada Surf CD while we were there. Also, there were some very nice pink Rice Krispy treats.
And! And I got a pair of kick-ass shoes to wear on the trip and everywhere else forever more! (Mine are black although I like those a lot too). They make me look like a cartoon character, which is all to the good as far as I’m concerned. AND I got them on sale. Woo!
After such a busy Friday, what with getting shoes and eating Rice Krispy Treats, Saturday morning was all about keeping it on the down low for me. When I finally did roll out of bed it was to go to a bridal shower for my friend and next door neighbor Erika, one of Carl’s housemates. It was a high tea, this shower, and it involved much yumminess in the form of cookies and jam and clotted cream (sounds gross, tastes great) and, most fetchingly, many itsy little sandwiches with the crusts cut off. I love those. They make me feel dainty. I ate about sixteen of them. Interestingly, this was the first bridal shower I’ve been to (and, oh, honey, I’ve been to a lot ) wherein the bride-to-be received as gifts not one but two sets of pruning shears and a large complement of rubber gloves. Ostensibly they are for gardening purposes (to be fair, she did get a lot of very nice plants) but I’m not so sure.
On the way to the shower I’d stopped in Ballard at my friends’ house to change into a very cute little skirt I just got, and while I was there I laid in some groundwork for seeing Ian’s 10:30 show that evening…the same show that I missed last weekend because, you know, I slept for twelve or fifteen hours. I went back to their house and hung out and had dinner; there was a girl there from France and you know I was all, “Oooh, France! I’m going to France! Ah, the France, how I love it! C’est magnifique!” like a complete idiot. Fortunately it was soon time to go so we trucked down to the U-District and got in line with a bunch of high schoolers drinking bubble tea. I got a comp ticket.
It’s a pretty small theater. The audience was made up primarily of the aforementioned high schoolers, whom I found deeply, purely, thoroughly annoying in a way that didn’t suggest I was ever an annoying teenager at an improve show, which of course I was at one point. I rolled my eyes so hard at these kids that I’m sure the un-ironic use of the phrase “Get off my lawn” can’t be far behind. There was also a bachelor party there. I rolled my eyes at them too.
This was the first time I’d seen Ian perform more traditional improve stuff, the kind where they get suggestions from the audience and play games and things like that. As always, Ian was the funniest person on stage, but the whole thing was really fun. I gave two suggestions: “rainforest” and “therapist.” I felt all cool that I knew someone on stage and I got all the gossip about who the various players were from Ian’s wife Katie, who sat next to me. And I was also a little proud of myself for staying up past 10:30. And for not eviscerating any teenagers or bachelor-party attendees.
Sunday I had a brunch-and-shopping date with two fantastic women. We met at a very nice place in Capitol Hill for crepes and then went to do some scandalous shopping. I was early to the crepe place…even after getting lost and having to call Carl for backup directional support…and everyone there was way cooler than me, as is, I’ve noticed, often the case when I go to Capitol Hill. I was intimidated and had to go outside to fret and suck in my stomach and pretend that my band had played really late last night (past 10:30, even) and call Sundry and whinny that she and Peachy needed to get there, like, now. And they did, and we ate crepes, and I drank hot chocolate out of a bowl, which is totally the coolest way to drink it. And then we went shopping, and then we walked up and down Broadway for a while, and then Sundry and I found a syringe on a bathroom floor, which I guess is all too common for that part of town. And then we went to a very nice used bookstore and talked about how Peachy and Sundry were perhaps now too old for this part of town, and how I very likely had always been too old for that part of town. Sundry took some pictures and we laughed and talked and generally enjoyed ourselves.
I went home for a while and almost missed my bellydance class because of being tired, but I hauled myself up and got into my coin belt and drove over to the class and did pilates and danced around. And then it was time to go home and not cook, not do my laundry, and not clean my house. I was pretty tuckered out. I love weekends like that.