I went to a dear friend's bachelorette party on Friday night. The details are a bit fuzzy (due to the fact that triples were the price of doubles so I drank triple gin & tonics all night. It makes financial sense people. Don't judge me.) I do remember K getting pulled up on stage at the comedy club and doing a hilarious dating-game sketch. I remember the waiter dropping garlic bread down the back of my shirt (shirt = ruined, Hillary = Very. Unhappy.) We rented a school bus for the evening because we had too many people for a limo. I think the highlight of my evening was when we were all drunkenly singing "The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round" and fighting over the lyrics. The low point of my evening would be when I decided to take the train home instead of taking a cab. The train part was fine, it was the getting from the train to my house part that was a bit dodgy. My neighbourhood is sketchy during the day. At night? It's scary. My Mom gave me a rape-alarm for Christmas so I was clutching that as I teetered home on my stilettos. It wasn't until the next morning (when I found the rape-alarm in my bed) that I realized that I hadn't taken the battery protector out of it so if I had actually needed the rape-alarm, it would have been useless. I made it home safely though, and managed to get myself to bed by 3. Stella woke me up at 6 (6! In the morning!) so I wrestled her into her crate and went back to sleep. S stumbled in at 8, having spent the night downtown after going to a friend's birthday party. Stella was whining so he let her out of the crate and then crashed. I had just about managed to fall back asleep when Stella decided to vomit. Under our bed. After a spirited round of "you clean it" "no, you clean it" we both fell asleep. Vomit untouched. This is why we don't have kids.
The rest of Saturday was a write-off. I have never seen S so hungover. He's convinced it's because he's getting old (his 30th birthday is on Thursday.) I'm convinced it's because he drank $80 in alcohol. Regardless, Saturday was spent lying on the couch or lying in bed moaning about how crappy we felt.
On Sunday we went out for lunch with S's mom and brother. My Mom is in Ontario right now, visiting her family, so Mother's Day is postponed until she gets back.
Yesterday kicked off the Festival of S. (Birthdays are a big deal in our house. Significant birthdays are a week-long affair.) Yesterday's F.O.S. activity was a trip to see Ironman. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the film. I didn't love it but I also didn't hate it. I'd heard that there was more movie after the credits so we sat through 5 minutes of credits (can someone tell me what the "additional second second assistant director" does? anyone?) for a 20 second clip. I didn't understand what all the fuss was about but according to S it's the Coolest Thing Ever. So, if you go see Ironman and you care about comic-book movies, stay until after the credits.
I still haven't figured out what to do for today's Festival of S. I might take the easy route and just make him a (quick) nice dinner. We're supposed to be painting the bathroom tonight, so I guess I could be a jerk and tell him that his F.O.S. activity is painting.