Hella Stella

This weekend was so busy that I didn't have time to blog - rare, but with good reason.

Friday night was the highlight by far. Megan wowed the crowd with her reading (and her smoking outfit), and the other acts were equally as fun. I saw things done with nipple tassels that I thought were urban myths! Well worth the cost of admission, although I did lose my watch, which set me back about $50. Boooo.

Saturday started off SO BADLY. I was late for the bloggers' breakfast because my car died, I dropped my cell phone in a giant puddle (IT STILL WORKS!! Probably because i did not bake it, as was recommended), and I had to clean up dog vomit. Despite being in a snarly mood when I arrived, everyone was so charming that I cheered right up. I quite like the new location for the breakfasts - the food was good, the service was good, and the room was great considering our swelling ranks.

The day got even better when I walked down to the Market and bought my BH some tulips. The gal behind the counter gave me a discount because she likes my CD. SCORE.

Saturday night was... An experience. We had to go to Barrymore's for my BH's school pub. We were deluded enough to think it would be fun. I don't think I've felt quite so out of place in a bar since that time I was dragged into On Tap against my will. There was bad boom-boom dance music, creepy short bald dudes with gold chains, and a disproportionate amount of guys with cowboy hats. Milan came too, and was kind enough not to leave immediately when the bartender gave him a beer that was half Keiths and half mystery beer because their tap ran out.

Serious.

We migrated to the Aloha room and then to Shanghai, where we pressured my BH and Mark into singing karaoke. They did it, and it was awesome, especially because the DJ pronounced my BH's name correctly. This NEVER happens.

Karaoke is probably my least favourite thing to do ever, so I'm relieved I was not dragged up there too. My hatred of karaoke is something I try not to explain because I risk sounding snotty, but I will try anyway: I sing as one of my jobs, and over the years I've been hard-wired to be as professional as possible about what I do. So getting up in front of a crowd with a shitty mic and a shitty canned back track to sing a song that is in the wrong key for my voice sounds like a nightmare to me. It gives me anxiety. I like watching other people doing it, but I'd rather play a proper gig in front of thousands of people than sing karaoke in front of ten drunken onlookers.

Nevertheless, I'm going to practice a song or two in case I'm ever forced up there. Yes, I will practice, because I am hard-wired not to intentionally damage people's ears.

Sunday was dim sum with the fam. Delicious as always. Then I came home and baked like a mofo - homemade pie crust for apple cobbler, and a giant breakfast casserole.

The weekend ended with the movie Eagle vs. Shark that went a little something like this: hysterically funny, sad, sad, uncomfortable, sad, sweet. I would watch the first twenty minutes of the movie again - they were the greatest.