Weekend

Friday night I played cards with the Pickles. It's one of my very favorite things to do. I had too much Jameson's with my Pepsi, and it made me feel like I was being mean. Thank God Jaimie was there to inform me that it wasn't the whiskey, it was just me being me. She's an excellent friend. I also bonded with Suzie (or is it Susie? it's the Suzie that isn't my sister) because she was also "liquory" and likes both "I Love New York" AND "Sex & the City".

On Saturday I woke up early and got ready, but it wasn't early enough, because dear GOD there are a lot of errands to run to get ready to host a baby shower. Apparently, you should not procrastinate. Who knew?

The balloons are what killed me on time. I show up and there is this guy blowing up balloons, and I swear to Something Holy he was the SLOWEST balloon blower-upper I've ever witnessed. He kept stretching the balloons. I mean, okay, I'm sure if you stretch them a few times it.. um.. does something magical I'm not aware of, but he was RIDICUOUS. I really thought that at any moment he was going to pull out a table from his Thai Hooker Barbie Dreamhouse and start giving the balloons a massage.

Not only that, he was training someone else, and it was a woman. I think he was trying to impress her.

Her: What color ribbon should I use?
Him: White.
Her: *pulls ribbon*
Him: No...
Her: *pause to look at him*
Him: Silver. *nods sagely*

The best part was that she looked at him like he was the Dalai Lama of Balloons. I can't blame her, cause if there is anything I'm looking for in a man, it's the skill of balloon vs. ribbon matching, coupled with a patronizing attitude. (If I hadn't been in such a hurry, I'd have just thrown myself down in front of him with my legs spread. But alas, I had a baby shower to attend.)

I carried the balloons out to the car and expressed my joy at trying to shove balloons in the back seat of an already packed car in the 100 mph wind. I finally get in, and Angie remarks, "Ohhh, these balloons are going to piss you off..." (with the certainty only your best friend can muster)

They totally didn't, until a bag fell over and spilled tortilla chips from Villa Fiesta all over the backseat.

Me: Can you grab that bag?
Angie: No, I'm trying.. my arms are too short.
Me: *pulls over* That's IT, we're looking into some Inspector Gadget arms for you TODAY!
Angie: hahahahahaha
Me: Fucking chips and salsa..
Angie: Hahahahahahaha
Me: GODDAMN BALLOONS
Angie: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

(The best part was when I pulled my jacket out of the car in Dana's driveway later on, and tortilla chips went flying. "Yeah.. I just keep those tucked away cause you never know.")

Really long story short.. it was a great baby shower, and the first co-ed shower I'd ever even attended. Cause this is the South, by God, and men don't go to no damn showers with damn baby stuff all over, and REAL MEN DON'T EAT CUPCAKES WITH BABY DUCKS ON 'EM!

But somehow, due to the rockage of the hostess'es'es (the other ones, not so much me) and the help of some awesome rum punch, I think we pulled it off just fine... OR, it was a disaster and I had so much punch I just don't remember.

Either way, I've learned an important life lesson about drinking in the middle of the day, which is.. it's not as much fun as it sounds like it would be.