Firstly, the work week was okay. Honestly if it wasn't for the twacked out ladies I work with I'd probably hang myself...or staple myself continuously...or cover myself with Post-Its...whichever comes first. I mean the job is simple enough, it's just VERY repetitive and time consuming. Especially when you're in charge of verifying other people's work, you can't exactly slack off...or some poor schmuck in Kamloops won't get his disability tax break.
But we're still bitches so we find joy in making fun of client's names. Unfortunately I cannot post a few of my favorites but let me tell you, their parents must really hate them....
My mornings would consist of me waking up from my alarm, falling back asleep, then get violently woken up by my mother barging in my room yelling about my lateness. "Getting ready" involves falling out of the bed from shock, dodging my mother's flying slippers as I scamper to the bathroom, brush the fur off my teeth and scrubbing my face raw, slap on something "clean", and be out the door within 15 minutes.
I'd catch a glimpse of myself through the metro window reflection and I actually become startled by my hideousness, especially as I'm sitting amongst the business chic. Usually around 2 PM I start to realize my surroundings and that's when I stop grunting answers.
Friday I got my overnight bag ready, which was really a snazzy looking beach bag, and prepared myself for the weekend plans. I was to spend the next few days roaming from house to house like a nomad, partying in the wee hours of the night, and continuing the boozing for St. Patrick's Day.
Friday night and Saturday was most enjoyable; the quickest way to a girl's heart (or mine anyway) is sushi, comedy, and comfy sheets....and some others things as well that only a few select individuals know of. I still grin at the memories...
After having to rip myself away from that I met up with some University friends in the Village and we partied at Unity. Jamming it up with my girls and watching scantily clad ripped boys dance on stages all around you is always something to look forward to. However my friends had to leave early, so at 1:30 in the morning I found myself walking towards Sky to meet with Pierre. We were both going to crash at Ryan's that night and I was contemplating whether I should go inside for what little was left of the night. But the entertainment outside proved quite worth the wait. Bum fights, dyke fights, and random women falling over me made me fall in love with the Village more and more. So Pierre left the club and men wanting more of him and he and I walked to Ryan's place....in the tear inducing weather. It was so windy and icky I developed a slight cold, that is only now leaving.
Now if y'all don't remember Ryan is the proud owner of two ferrets....these ferrets are cute and and nice but Pierre and I lose our patience every now and then. That night I was lucky enough to have the bedroom all to myself and the ferrets just annoyed only Pierre for the evening....ah, restful bliss.
Restful my ass, I think I got maybe 6 hours of "sleep" during those two crazy nights, but it was well worth it. Sunday morning I had me some crepes with Ryan and I headed over to the parade. It was my first time seeing the parade and I was pretty excited. Plus I was going to hang out with some very awesome people.
So I manage to find my friend Liya amongst the crowds after getting through the mosh-like pit of Mackay and St. Catherine. It was mad chaos. I never seen so many angry mothers yelling and screaming at people who even DARED stand in front of their children for more than 15 seconds and block their view. One particular old hag was spewing out obscenities so foul I stood in shock. Not because of what she was saying, but that she was saying them in front of about ten very young children. What annoyed me the most was that a photographer from the Gazette, who took pics of me and a few other people(no I didn't make the cover), proceeded to this bag of bitchiness and started to chat her up. This is only because she was covered head to toe with Irish flair of some sort...and my did she have the sweetest disposition once she realized who she was talking too. At that point she was all honey drops and sugarplums....I felt like puking.
So at around 1 I head over to what was formerly known as Cheers with Liya and get our drink on. Well continue the drinking, I was actually already drinking thanks to back pack beers. After managing our way through the line up and coat check we plop our asses down at the bar in the back and started our own little party. I get a call from my friend and he wasn't able to get into the bar....apparently the cops wouldn't allow it. So I got pissed and I head outside to see what the problem was. I step outside without my coat (but I did have my trusty beach bag) and find a mini riot going on right before my eyes. The cops were dragging and beating random drunkards and not letting anyone back in the bar. I find my friend and he's in front of the cop barricade and I was making my way towards him when I was somewhat roughly manhandled by an officer as I tried explaining to him that I'm just getting a friend and I'll be back at the bar, but to no avail I was pushed aside. So we chilled at a rotten parking lot for a bit and waited it out. We made our way back and the ruffians dispersed thankfully. I smooth talked our way back into the bar and I was happily greeted by Liya drunk off her ass and a fresh beer waiting for me.
Discreet fondlings and a couple beers and shots later I was quite the happy camper. I left for home in a daze, lost my sunglasses, and greeted my mother with a crooked grin....I think she was proud.
And there you have it, a detailed account of my recent activities. But don't worry, you won't have to wait so long anymore. This weekend is going to be a whole other ball game ;)
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