Sunday, May 13, 2007

...and the living's E-Z.

I stepped out of work at three on Friday, and the sun was shining, and the world was mine. I headed downtown to get a gift for my mom, something to say "thanks for not kicking me out of the house all of those times, because you probably should have". I went home, got a slurpee, and prepped myself for the evening.
Crystal finally came out! We popped down to the Marquee and got a few gin and sodas in us. Now, I'm not good at much in this world, but if there was ever some sort of Drunken Chatterbox Olympics, I think I would take home the gold. I spent the entire night blahblahblah-ing all over the bar. The problem is, when I talk too much, I don't count my drinks at all. I started taking pictures at some point, but due to my alcohol-induced retardation, I failed to realize that the 'macro' setting was on the lens. Thus, the photos ended up looking something like this:

For some reason, this one of Crystal and Marco turned out really well.

I woke up Saturday with the worst headache in the world, I tried to sleep in, but it just wasn't happening, so I got up, drank a million litres of water, and tried to learn some fresh new dance moves by youtubing The Boys videos over and over.

At some point, I started feeling better, and decided that I needed to go buy some new kicks. After last week's heartbreak, where I found the raddest pair of yellow and black junior Jordan 1 Retros on clearance at the online Nike store, and then realized that I couldn't get them shipped to Canada, I really needed some footwear-based therapy. I walked downtown, and combed through sports stores and shoe stores, but couldn't find anything I wanted. So, I bit the bullet and headed up 17th Ave. I've had my eye on this pair of purple gator Alfie slip-ons at Gravity Pope for quite a while. I've been trying to work more purple into my wardrobe lately (along with more satin), and I thought these shoes would be a great place to start. However, when I tried them on, they looked really genuinely terrible, and I left the store without them.
The very last stop on my tour was Goodfoot, and thank god Richard is such a patient guy.... The only pair I was digging at all were these Blazers:
I put them on, and proceeded to dance around the store and pose infront of the mirror for an hour before deciding that I actually did like them. Then, Richard laces them up, and asks me if I want two holes or three holes left at the top. I wasn't sure, so I put them back on again, and pranced around the store for another 15 minutes before making a decision. I really shouldn't go shoe-shopping alone.

I came home, had another slurpee, and got ready to go out again.
Remember what I said a couple of weeks ago about Broken City not trusting me with their glassware? Well, this week, they decided to be nice and give me a big-girl glass. Bad choice, guys:

Then, the tigers came out:

Have fun on the East Coast, Lindsay!

I spent most of the night trying my best to get a photo of the guy in the Hawaiian shirt, without him seeing. It didn't work very well, but the point is: I think he was from the Arctic or something, and came down here for a tropical vacation. He was even wearing sandals, and I saw him carrying his money in a passport belt. Awesome!
The main reason I love summer is that I don't have to wear a coat anywhere. Since I've just gone through an entire weekend of coat-free adventures, it finally feels like summer is really here.
Did we even have Spring this year? I don't think so.
The weather took a severe nosedive today, and even after a nice Vietnamese breakfast, I'm pretty sure the majority of my day will be spent getting better acquainted with my couch. Tomorrow is the last day of my optical career, and the start of my hobo-clinic career, so I need all the rest I can get. Hope it was a rad weekend for you guys.

~sarah p.


Crystyle said...

The Picture did turn out real well. Too bad it looks like I have giant hands. Haha oh well.

marco said...

you're not the only one who woke up saturday with a bit of a headache... not even two liters of mango punch and some retail therapy could rid me of it. luckily it seemed to get better 'round about the time i got to bc...