Weekend Blur

and not necessarily for a good reason. Definitely wasn't a verb like last time. More like a failed experiment with kinetic energy really.

It all started last Monday following a good weekend out. I decided that I wanted to do it again, but this time on the west side with some of my boys, so I sent out the plea. "What r u guys doing friday nite? I want 2 go out, and don't care where (well, not Piman's). And I will probably b drinking, so I may need some floor space unless I can convince Sarah or Diane to come."

The responses were fairly swift in coming, as Cian said, "That can be arranged." And Pete's reply was something along the lines of "shhh! We're planning a surprise party for Cian at the school Friday. I'll let you know." Eventually the surprise party took form, but it was lacking in the surprise element as Cian had figured it out. He even thought I was in on it because of the timing, but alas, I am not that prescient.

So Friday rolls around and Diane and I meet at DoDoDo for a delicious dinner, followed by us making our way to English School festivities, me with a card for Cian in my pocket and a bottle of white wine in hand for myself. We arrive, the party starts, well, at least my own private party did, as I rapidly took to consuming the wine. Nope, no glasses for me. Cian comments, "My mother would say, 'I didn't raise you to drink a whole bottle of wine by yourself.'" To which I retort in my infinite cleverness, "Well, you didn't bring me up to share either." Cian decides to commit that retort to memory for the next time anyone makes a like comment to him.

Pete arrives with a heaping pot of pasta and sauce at about 9:00, when most people have eaten all they are going to, and a nearly entirely empty bottle of merlot in hand. Diane points out the drunken fill line that appears on Pete's forehead; a massive white V spreading acros his head as he makes slightly fuzzy facial expressions.

Sachiko offers Katherine, Diane and I some of Pete's "everything I could find to put in it -- except the wine 'cuz I was too busy drinking and dancing around my apartment while cooking to remember to put it in" spaghetti, and we request only a little. Apparently that jut meant a small plate, not a small portion. We all taste-tested and agreed it was very good, however, we had all eaten and were no longer hungry. So, when my binge-drinker neighbour isn't paying any mind to his already emptied bowl of pasta, I dump it all in and watch when he turns around, wondering where the pasta came from. His oblivious J-girl neighbour on the other side has no idea, and he puzzles over it for a minute before he polishes it all off.

My wine consumed, 10 o'clock having passed, I get ready to message Sarah, who in an act of serendipity calls my mid-type. Dashing outside, I let her know we will be off, probably to arrive in 15 minutes after sayonaras are bid and promises are made to keep phones in reach. A decision is made to head back to DoDoDo, and when we are within 5 minutes of parking at City hall, I phone Sarah to let her know of our impending arrival. Unfortunately I phone the wrong Sara. There are 2 or more in my phone, and the one I was trying to reach was #39, while the one I phoned was #29. Ooops. The details of the conversation are fuzzy, but I was definitely having difficulty with enunciation, never mind other things.

Damn the wine, and me more for chugging it. You can totally see where I am going, can't you?

The right Sarah is reached and we venture off to DoDoDo, where some waitperson in his infinite wisdom puts on the top floor. Restaurants and stairs are fine, but at that time of night, they were going for a bar atmosphere and it is never a good idea to put visibly drunk people at the tops of stairs. Really. Especially when the bathroom is on the ground floor.

I managed to make it through the very large cookies we ordered, as well as remembering to put my phone on the table for Sarah and Diane should Cian call during what I foresaw to be one of my many trips to the washroom. Early on, I did attempt to make it back upstairs every few minutes, which Sarah later commented was very valliant, however I soon gave up, claimed a stall and remained hidden, while they would every onc in a while come in and check on me. When I had settled a wee bit, I moved out to a chair in the washroom, pulled a rug off a table and slept very comfortably.

I was informed Cian had arrived, and replied that was nice, but I didn't think I would be joining in the festivities. Later, after sleep rather than black holes of time, I was reclaimed by my friends as we ventured out into fresh air, while Cian jested and I walked in a mostly straight line. And thus the night ended.

And the hangover the next morning was a Bitch, with a capital B, that I chose to fight in a particularly slothful way, watching season 3 of Buffy, the Vampire Slayer on borrowed DVDs.

Feeling much better now though!