I can't keep up

I'm so behind on my blog it's not even funny. Don't even know where to start. Got some new batteries for my digicam (finally) so hopefully I can take some pics of purses and Pumas(!) soon-ish.

I haven't even talked about Saturday and Sunday of my birthday extravaganza and it feels like it was such a long time ago already. Probably for the best 'cuz then it won't be so excruciatingly detailed.

Saturday (March 27) morning Weird Kid and Spydermonkey took me on an expedition for Pumas. The two pairs they had given me on my birthday were too big and they didn't have my size at the store where they had bought them. And I thought I was a shoe fanatic, these kids are hardcore when it comes to finding the right kicks. We went to Chinook to return the shoes, hit up Shawnessy Winners and Shoe Company, Heritage Winners, back to Chinook (Spydermonkey wanted to go flirt with the Spare Parts girl some more), allllll the way to Sunridge Winners and Champs Sports where we were taunted by the not-yet-opened Krispy Kreme. 6 hours of shoe hunting, folks, but at least I have snazzy Pumas to show for all of that.

A few hours later, my closest friends and I had dinner at Broken Plate. Weird Kid and his girlfriend were there. My sister was there. Spydermonkey, Posie, Ang, Bizkette, Daisy, and Civic...they were all there. Unfortunately Sunny and Sunny Boy weren't there, but I understand. Mr guy wasn't there...that I didn't understand but I completely expected. I even called him that day and asked him again if he was coming...such an easy way for him to bow out! But he kept insisting he was gonna be there. (Later he felt bad -- as he should -- 'cuz he had assumed it was just a friend's birthday and not, in actuality, my own. He worked late into the night, as is common, and was too late to show up to Broken Plate or even SoHo. Now he owes me big. But even if he thought it was my friend's birthday he still should've called. Rude boy.)

Anyway, Broken Plate was the slowest meal on earth. Ever. I know they're usually slow, but that was beyond what I was expecting. It took us 3 hours to get through apps, entrees, and dessert. 3 hours! Yowza. And I don't mean that we were eating slow. There was a lot of idle chatting time in between courses. Waiting, waiting, waiting. I got to smash a plate. Opa! Civic somehow finagled me a flat of Krispy Kremes. Bizkette and Ang got me started on a "Get Leah's Puerto Rico ON" fund. Daisy gifted me with the 1st season of Three's Company. Got some new pajamas (Joe Boxer!) and some Victoria's Secret lotions and scrubs. It's all good.

I had a set up a guest list at SoHo for 10-10:30. Seeing as it was already 11:30 by the time we arrived they didn't honor it. Too bad. Anyway, I was really happy that Ang, Bizkette, and Posie came along. And of course Daisy was with me, too. What I wasn't happy about was the different mix of crowd and music going on that night. There was more RnB/hiphop going on than they usually play. I usually don't mind that, but it's Latin Night for a reason, you know? Also, there wasn't as much of a proliferation of latinos this night as there usually is. So basically now it just looked like any typical club night in Calgary. I was bummed. Here I was, expecting to show my friends an experience that they would not normally have and instead it was bordering on the typical.

But we discovered their martini list. The chocolate martini? Yummmmy. The absinthe martini? Very good and hoooo boy, very strong.

A shot of Cabo Wabo? Horrifyingly nasty. Ack.

Near the end of the night this little guy latched on to me and followed me around till the bar shut down. Ironically, he looked like a miniature mr. guy. I say miniature 'cuz the guy could not have been taller than 5 foot even. It was amusing dancing with him, to say the least. Mini mr. guy tried to angle for an invite to Bizkette's place. Riiiiight. Anyway, I think we terrified him when he stood amongst the 3 of us left and he was a dwarf in comparison.

I inadvertently spooned sour cream onto my post-clubbing hot dog. Sour cream and honey mustard. Who knew it would taste soooooo good?! Ask Daisy, she'll attest to that.

Walking back to Bizkette's car we asked her about the guy who managed to drag her onto the dance floor. (When we had come back upstairs we found Bizkette crouched on the floor and this guy standing over her trying to convince her to come downstairs and dance with him. I still don't understand how she ended up in that position.)

"You'll never guess what his name was."

"What?"

"J***"

And at this Daisy and I busted out in laughter out there on the street. There are way too many J***s in the world lately. Mr. guy's name is J***. Daisy's friend from jr. high who she rediscovered at SoHo...his name is J***. And now Bizkette had danced with another dude named J***. Craaaaazy.

Finally back at Bizkette's place I happily changed into my pajamas. All I remember is Daisy watching Much Music and Hilary Duff was on Countdown and then the Darkness was on. Bizkette rushed out of her room to watch the Darkness.

And then somewhere during that time frame I passed out according to Bizkette.