What a weekend, what a monday. What a life.
My recent vacation has plenty of valid reason behind it. And, honestly, the more I am away, the more I have to rant about when I finally choose to return.
This past weekend was absolutely, completely mental. One of my favorite women confidently dove into her 22nd year of life, and declared friday and saturday night as celebratory territory. A romantic, intimate, private sushi dinner was had friday after galavanting around a run down, possibly being renovated LC to retrieve our booze for la nuit. We drove up to our favorite "drinking in the car before the bar" spot at our favorite and only dyke bar and talked and sipped and yelled and chugged the evening away. It was so perfect being in the car with my two favorite ladies of the moment. I don't think I have ever in my adult life, felt so connected emotionally to two girls. I am protective over them like they are my children, is that weird? I just have to talk about my outfit that night for a few minutes. Shit, I was so, so, so dressed to the nines. I had quickly flown down the isles of winners right before to pick up this drool worthy jacket, when I came across the sexiest shirt I have ever laid eyes on. It's black, obviously, and long, obviously, and has buttons, some studded and squared, going all the way to the bottom. It is also sleeveless and buttons all the way up to the neck. Gah. I am nervous just thinking about it. I paired that with my most expensive (450 bones regularly, on sale for 100, ha!),blazer, which my girlfriend later stole off my back and looked especially smashing in, I couldn't stop staring. Oh, and my usual black, texturized leggings with black shoes and a newly purchased black side bag. Yes, I wear a side bag, and I am doing my best not to look like a modern day yuppy, but, occasionally utility and practicality seep into my wardrobe selection and completely cramp my style. So, friday was short as said friend over drank and had to be taken away from lesbian land to her bed. But my girl and I lived it out and partied for her.
Here here saturday. Worked at 4, but awkwardly forgot and went in at 5, completely unintentionally. Everyone seemed more than okay with it. In fact, said coworkers pinched my ass and complimented my style and didn't even seem to be phased by my potential lack of ability to attain punctuality. We then talked about looking good and lipstick and collars and hair and just checked one another out so endearingly. It was strange, but expected. I worked with my new favorite coworker that night, and spoke of being gay and women and politics and queer lit and mums and shit. She is lovely. I was also granted a completely unexpected visit from a best friend of mine, who had vacated to BC for a short time with her girlfriend. That was sweet, and she watched me scrub the shine back into our toilets and mop up poopy water, that, folks, is how you know someone is devoted to a friendship. When they come all the way (10 minutes by bicyclette), down to your place of work and watch you clean bathrooms just for a quick converse, a glance that you are still alive and real and breathing. I love my friends. We closed the joint with the likes of Beyonce and Sean Paul to get us through and were then joined by said birthday girl and my lover. Round two people, round two. Flirtatious behavior was had between all of us before piling into C's car, only to find a fucking ticket on the dash. Poor birthday girl was out 30 bones, just like that. We drove excitedly to the bar, second night in a row, and smoked and possibly drank in the car. I will just say that this night, the entirety of it, completely made up for the previous night. Great, great things happened that night, I saw the people I care about the most happy and excited, and that makes me ecstatic. We stayed out late, as per usual, and eventually had to call it a night as me and E had to be up to shoot the Fashion Streeter at 10 the next morning. I got home at 7, my god. But, said shoot was incredible, as two of the sleepiest girls in all the land trotted around the exchange fashionably and zombie like.
Check out E in the fashion streeter next week, please and thank you. If only to see how skilled I am on 3 hours of sleep.
I worked again sunday with yet another GAY, ONLY CHILD, INTELLIGENT, co worker who I not yet met formally, yet I completely knew who he was. That was incredible, he is so refined and good at what he does, easy as pie. His mom is the director of women and gender studies at the U of W, which blew my mind, and his dad is also a professor. Woah.
I will continue my weekend rant tomorrow, as dreamland is calling louder than ever.