Make me a bicycle, clown!

The three day weekend is almost over, which is sad and tragic but at least I can say I didn't waste it. No regrets, that's my new motto. That and "I can't help but wonder why we did that," but MOSTLY No Regrets. So yeah. I didn't waste the weekend so I should get a medal or a trophy or something right? I certainly didn't waste any of it SLEEPING because seriously? I can sleep later. Although, I'm not sure when because I pretty much come up with excuses not to go to bed every night of the week so I don't know when this elusive sleep will ever come. When I'm dead, I guess. Or if I ever lapse into some kind of coma, possibly triggered by boredom while I'm at work.

I think the word you're looking for is . . . ANYWAY. Friday night was, as expected, a lot of fun because duh . . . my friends are fun. It was just like a slumber party from years and years ago, except the conversation topics ranged from boy talk to the Holocaust (I have no idea how that came up), we drank margaritas (no regrets), and we listened to the Motown collection CD that I got from Target (what, shut up) instead of New Kids on the Block. Again, I say shut up. I'm sorry to say that there were no pillow fights in our underwear, but we did put on the Liger/Vote for Pedro wristbands and take pictures and no I will not be sharing these. We also called Africa at 2:30 AM. When was the last time you did that at a slumber party?

On Saturday, we went to our new favorite restaurant to see our Waiter-Boyfriend but, tragically, he was not our waiter. Not cool. I'm going to have to start suggesting to sit in his section. Saturday night . . . was weird. I had apparently taken an honesty pill earlier in the day and felt the need to unload a bunch of stuff (no regrets) and later that night one of my friends got peed on. By a cat. Not a person. Because, ew.

Again, anyway. Sunday took us to Taste of Cincinnati and let me tell you . . . after walking around for hours in the hot, hot heat with all the BO in Ohio wafting around us we smelled GOOD. Luckily, everyone else smelled just as disgusting. There was a guy making balloon animals and Mary and I were so good because all we wanted to do was go up to him and scream, "make me a bicycle, clown!" because we have seen Wedding Crashers one too many times, but we restrained ourselves. Ok, so I kind of regret not doing that. Next time I see a guy making balloon animals, I'm totally doing it.

I just got back from my parents house, where we ate dinner while watching The Perfect Man. Yes, the one with Hilary Duff. Yes, I kind of sort of liked it. Yes, I'm kind of embarrassed about that.

Right now I'm trying to deny that I have to get up and go to work tomorrow because I DON'T WANNA, MOM, DON'T MAKE ME. Sigh.