Just a Saturday Night

This weekend has been the first weekend I've had off in a very long time. So I've been spending my Saturday playing computer games [The Sims 3, anyone?], trying to finish a wedding present [55.5/60 inches done! Foof.] and watching corny shows and girly chick flicks on tv [these movies are having Renee Zellweger are the leading trend] with my mum. 

Also, because the only Molly Ringwald film I've ever really been a fan of is The Breakfast Club, when Pretty in Pink came onto tv today, I came to the startling realization that John Cryer is Duckie. When mentioning this to my cousin I got a, "I love you but DUH." 

Apparently I am a Brat Pack loser. Although what can I say, I am of the Spice Girl generation.

Dear John Cryer, you are surprisingly cute in your youth - I'm very sad you've started looking like a fish.

Anyways. Tomorrow will be an extension of today, until I'm forced to deal with my chemistry project - which I unfortunately do not get to build an erupting volcano for but explain about nuclear energy or...something. Luckily Kyleman is prostar at this and is willing to help guide me through it [nonclamenture I can handle; talking about...hell, I don't even know what I'm supposed to be talking about, forgedda'bout it] so here's to hoping.

skank

I learned a valuable lesson today: never throw out 7/8 of your bar clothes just because you barely ever go out to bars anymore. One night you are going to have to go out and you will have nothing in particular to skank it up in. Yeah, I said skank it up. Where I'm from, that's how you have to do it if you go to a bar. Actually I think it's like that in almost every city in North America where 19 [if you're in Canada] to 24 year olds go out to drink. True story.

I have managed, fortunately, to stay on the classy retro side unlike what I was threatening Kyleman with earlier this week [quote I'm going skank it up so much on Saturday night you're going to be embarassed to be seen with me unquote].

There is just something about heading out in too short dresses/too low cut tops that I just can't do without feeling very awkward and sober. I usually end up sober [except on very special occasions]; alcohol and I have a very love-hate-I'm-going-to-cause-you-slight-allergies relationship. It's sad. I'm just glad I got all my drinking hoop-la out in the first couple weeks of turning 19 [go Canada!] and am now content with just 1 or 2 drinks and feeling just dandy.

Now if you excuse me, I'm off to persuade Kyleman that all this [imagine a giant arm gesture here towards my  ensemble] deserves to be taken out for food and shown off before we're surrounded by drunk people who won't appreciate good fashion sense.

Tra la.