Weekend Update: I'm Too Young For Nostalgia

Well, I promised you all stories and hilarity from my weekend away, and what kind of person would I be if I didn't follow through?

It wound up being a jam-packed 72 hour marathon of socializing, for the most part.  The journey there takes two ferries and a few hours over land, and of course because I was on a tight schedule the ferries decided to run late.  On the bright side, on the first ferry I got a pretty cool picture of the view, which is something that I never get tired of despite the fact that in 22 years it really hasn't changed much.

Moody, right?  Anyway, when I finally arrived I had just over an hour to get myself together before a fancy-smancy dinner reservation, which many of you will know is totally inadequate to work miracles on one's hair and makeup.  Anyway, I was luckily able to get myself together in time and off it was to this Indian-themed restaurant in one of the Fairmont hotels.  Let it be noted that they served a delightful whiskey sour, which is my go-to drink (although I'm thinking of switching to the ever classy gin and tonic).  After dinner my friends and I headed over to the event venue where I had a delightful evening of dancing and socializing and I managed to run into no fewer than five former dates/exes/whatever you want to call them, which was in some cases pleasant and in other cases mind-numbingly awkward.

Now I had planned to keep this blog as anonymous as possible so that it couldn't come and ruin my life at some point in the undetermined future.  However, I also promised you photos so I suppose I'll have to break my own rules just this once.  Below you will find a picture of my masquerade manicure and a few others from dinner and the party (I'm afraid I don't have any that include my wonderful shoes).

You can see my mask in the last one pretty well.  Needless to say it was a wonderful evening, followed by an equally wonderful soak in my Inn's amazing jacuzzi after practically breaking my feet in those killer heels.

The rest of my stay was equally fabulous.  I got to see many of my amazing friends, and as it always seems to happen there was too little time to spend with so many amazing people.  I guess I'll just have to go back and visit soon.

Besides being a lovely holiday, this last weekend also wound up being a learning experience.  The lesson, in case you'd like to know, was that apparently I am so oblivious I should be handicapped.  It would be cruel to go into detail, but I honestly wonder at myself for not seeing these things before its reached the point where I've gotten myself into a terribly awkward situation.  I'm not so concerned with myself - what's a little embarrassment? - but rather for the poor people who have to deal with my airheadedness.  To them I send a most heartfelt apology.  To give you a little insight into my total lack of a clue, in the past I've managed to go on three dates I had no idea were dates.  Shouldn't that be a mistake you only make once?  In another instance I spent an entire month dating a guy I later discovered wasn't into women.  Who does that?!  I have a complete lack of gaydar:  I consistently am attracted to men who don't like women and sometimes I even mistake straight men for gay men.  Like I said, I fail at life.  Maybe this is Mother Nature's way of weeding me out of the gene pool?  Perhaps one day I'll have my own Public Service Announcement.

The trip home was uneventful (the three hours' sleep had me a little tired and unobservant), but I will say that I saw a most delightful character on one of the ferries home.  He could have walked right off the set of Ten Things I Hate About You, right at the part where the new kid is being given a tour of the school cliques.  I believe the title used in the film was "white rastas", and boy, did this guy fit the bill.  He was a tall and gangly ginger man with a delightful goatee, who was sporting a red, yellow and green knit beanie which had "AFRICA" emblazoned on its side.  To complete the look he had on a knit sweater that looked like it came from a vendor in the Peruvian wilderness.  In the words of Russell Peters, "Yah man!"

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