Where Do I Begin?

Alright. It's Monday morning and I have just completed one of the busiest weekends I have ever lived through. Now I must begin the task of documenting the highlights, and to tell you the truth, I'm having a substantial amount of trouble figuring out exactly how to do that.

So the game plan is to break it down into tiny parts and just relay one story at a time. First, let me tell you about Friday:

Friday SUCKED super bad, mainly because DDay fell through. And also because MG and I had a little "thing". Kind of a spat. I will not elaborate except to say that it had to do with our plans falling through and then us being discouraged and kinda taking it out on each other. Well, okay, mainly ME taking it out on him. We do this sometimes. And we always get over it. But at the time, it is ugly. So he left on a bad note and I spent the rest of the afternoon feeling terrible about it.

After work I went to the mall. Well, duh. I'm sure you know by now that I always go to the mall when things aren't going so well. Nobody cute was at the mall, but I completed a nice round of power shopping. After that was over, I ventured home. And cried.

G was outside when I pulled in my driveway. She and I started talking and decided that we had SO much catching up to do that we should do it over cocktails. Okay. I suggested that. But it was all good. And terribly fun!

I felt like such a privileged guest... G's husband escorted me into the Bar (their bar is SOOOO cool that it has to be referred to with a capital B), shown a list of possible drink combinations, and allowed to pick whatever lovely concoction I wanted. I picked the Yellow Cake Martini.

Forgetting momentarily that Mr. G mixes up drinks as if he were mixing for a bunch of sailors, I guzzled down the first glass. After the second glass, I was well-tipsy. G even started dropping stuff on the floor. We are cheap and apparently clumsy drunks.

It was such a BLAST!!! I miss hanging out with you more often, G! And thanks, Mr. G for the awesome drinks! You are one cool guy! You even put up with our crazy girl talk!

Anyway, sometime before we started all that drinking, BA called me. We talked about doing something later or whatever. He was playing ball and said he would call me later. Me being the ever-so-generous hostess, offered to buy him some beer. When asked what kind he wanted he said, "Oh, I don't care, Baby. You can get whatever kind you want. I'll call you after my game, okay, Sweetheart?" HA HA HA HA It was soooo funny. (Nobody tell him I laugh about that, though, okay? Because he might stop doing it...)

At 8:30, Kelly called. She was on her way home and was...loaded. She was out shopping and met up with some girls from work for a few drinks. Moments later she pulled into my driveway and came down to G's. We hung out for a little while. Then Kelly and I left. We putzed around for a bit before she went home to have dinner with her husband. Mr. Kelly is great and I love him and all. In fact, I secretly want to be his second wife. JUST JOKING, K! But the last thing he wanted was for me to horn-in on their dinner date. So I decided to go home, wait for BA to call, and take a nap. I believe being very drunk had a lot to do with that decision, but whatever.

BA didn't call. Shocked? Actually, I was, because he is normally excellent about communication. P called at 11 p.m. to see what I was doing. I had a little bit of a hard time figuring out what the strange ringing noise was. Minutes later (well, okay - seconds later) I realized it was my phone. I'm told that conversation was hilarious.

SIDEBAR: Later the NEXT DAY, Kelly tells me the REAL story about where she was that night. If you can't tell from my formatting, I was a little hurt and mildy offended that it took her so long to tell me the real deal. I am slowly getting over it.

Kelly is very good friends with one of her ex-boyfriends. They stay in close contact with each other and call each other very frequently. Yeah, I'm jealous about that, too. But let's not dwell on it. He just happened to be free (of his spouse and kids) and wanted to meet up for a couple of drinks. Actually, he really needed to vent and talk and knew Kelly could commisserate with him. Plus, she's a good listener and is most often right, so you can take her advice to the bank. That, and he has a major league crush on her. On this, I am right. She doesn't believe me, but in this case I am right and she is wrong. I am all-knowing and she is in the dark. I am the winner! (insert maniacal laughter here)

Now, nothing happened Friday night. Not ONE thing that would be considered inappropriate by any standard. But she felt the feeling. The awkward, OMG, I shouldn't be doing this, let's cover our tracks feeling. And they had a very nice heart-to-heart conversation. And five bottles of beer. I know she had a really good time. I don't have a problem with that at all.

But what I DO have a problem with is that she waited until Saturday at breakfast to tell me. What's up with THAT?!?!?!?!? I wish you could have seen her face when she spilled it. Hi-larious! And while I'm a little hurt that she didn't tell me RIGHT AWAY (which is now the rule whenever one of us does something daring, courageous, stupid, funny, or embarrassing), I secretly love that we share little secrets like that.

And that, guys, was the extent of my Friday night. Hanging out with the girls and the consumption of alcohol beverages. It was great, but, still - not QUITE what I had in mind! Saturday gets WAY better. It is filled with hangovers, shopping, underwear, spending money with reckless abandon, one MAJORLY EMBARRASSING grocery store shopping trip, dates, and (shocking!) alcoholic beverages. Don't worry - I will ease you into it one step at a time...