The Pink Shoe Diaries

There is nothing quite like waking up on a Monday morning and feeling like you've been awake for the past 48 hours. I feel that this is a combination of a nutty Friday night + working all day Saturday AND Sunday + staying up all last night doing work. In any case, I am on my third cup of coffee and still feeling like a bleary-eyed zombie. I am wearing brand new tan pants though, so that makes me feel a little better.

Anyway, the nutty Friday I speak of started early, especially for Meaghan and I, who usually don't leave the house until 11. But no, this time in a fit of timliness we left the house at 6:45, for the Cambridge Good Life. Jill later joined us and we partook of the bloody maries and martinis while discussing the unfortunate demise of the Foley/Garner marriage, as well as Reese Witherspoon's impending motherhood (oh US Weekly, how you have enriched our late night conversations!). From here we decided to forgo the usual Porter's bevy of white-hats and take in some Somerville ambience at Gargoyle's. Suddenly my cell phone rings and although I usually screen my calls if the number is unknown, this time I did not. I answer and am greeted with a male voice "Hey Sarah, remember me? We went skinny-dipping at Nantasket?" Luckily, this narrows the number of people this could be to 2, and since Meaghan is 1) female and 2) with me at the moment. I know it must be Boy From Flanagan's Whose Name I Forget. I haven't talked to him since June, I believe, so I don't feel that bad about not knowing his name. In any case, I learn three things from our conversation:

1) Like so many of the men I have dated, he has just gotten out of rehab
2) He is now trying to be an artist, but in the meantime is still painting lines in the middle of the road
3) He thinks I am probably his soulmate.

I agree to see him, but then avoid making definite plans with the never-fail "My phone is dying! But definitely call me tomorrow!!". Then Meg and Jill and I spend some time concurring about how weird that was, and how all of our Bs always come out of the woodwork in the Spring. Flower the skunk was right: twitterpated indeed!

The next stop of the night was a house party in Allston which just happened to be in the apartment that my friend Annie lived in during City Year and where I spent the majority of my weekends during the fall of 1998. Very strange. We helped ourselves to the keg beer and set about making friends and talking sh*t, two of the things we are best at. I remember repeatedly calling this boy "Menonite" because he was from Pennsylvania and therefore clearly either Amish or Menonite. haha. We left this party about an hour after we got there because I can only handle so much conceit from a boy with a goatee. A wrench was thrown in our plans however:

Meaghan's car was towed

So we stood in the parking lot, Jill, Corinne, Meaghan and I, and threw a hissy fit of sorts which led to a group of thugs beseeching us to come with them, they would drive us back to Braintree. Right. So in the end, Jill and Corinne went back to the party and Meaghan and I Hailed a cab to get her bedeviled car from the tow lot. Once there, i proceeded to call every employee there "trash" and take it as a personal affront that the car was towed. By the grace of one elderly but nice taxe driver we did not have to walk a mile in the boondocks of Brighton to get to the nearest ATM. All in all, we did not arrive back in Braintree until 4AM.

So the rest of the weekend went smooth after that bit of ugliness. I went to an intimate gathering at Vicki and Joe's new house on Saturday Night and can till not believe that I have a friend who not only is engaged but owns a freaking house. It is very lovely, and also very condusive to parties. We watched Trading Spaces while Joe served us nachos, and the quote of the night by far was Vicki's musings on teaching

"What boggles my mind is that I'm now considered a dork by a whole new generation of people."

I tell you, any knowledge of 50 cent, or rap in general, will garner you wariness and general mistrust in anyone under 13 years old.