Raise Your Glass

It’s funny how whenever I should be doing homework I always opt to blogging instead. Coincidence? Probably not.

On Friday night some friends and I hit downtown for dinner at the Earl’s on Robson. My friend Jennifer (pictured below) let me get ready at her place and did my hair for me that night so special thanks to her for that. Although you can't really tell in the picture she actually achieved the impossible - making me look semi-pretty and now I am considering harrassing her weekly to do my hair.

Unfortunately my usual eye-candy there was M.I.A. which was disappointing at first but by the time we were all together it hardly mattered. Drinks were flowing and we were all chatting for nearly two hours by the time the last person arrived and we finally got around to ordering. Food was great and the staff was extra nice to us.

Although I deemed the occasion was to celebrate a belated-Groundhog Day, it turned more into a birthday shindig what with people giving me gifts and there being a cake and all.

Isn’t that cake gorgeous? My lovely sister got it for me from a small place in Yaletown called “Ganache”. There is kind of an embarrassing story that goes with the cake ordering which involved someone thinking how pathetic I was for ordering my own cake and wanting to sell me a single slice instead, etc. etc. I am not up for re-hashing details so you’ll have to harass one of my friends for the full story. Regardless, it was a beautiful red velvet cake which I managed to take 3 bites of before I decided it was too sweet and I was just too full.

Throughout dinner we were taking tons of polaroids since I had so much film that was bordering its expiry date. Here are some of my favourite:

It was all fun until they started taking pictures of me doing shooters and those were not attractive. At all. These things were little mini-sized devils. They were called “Heat Wave” and the ingredients were: cuervo tequila, agave nectar, lime juice and serrano chillies. Sounds pleasant but the reality was quite different. Nonetheless I gotta give my friend Cecil (pictured below) props for buying them and doing them with me.

Yeah, don’t I look so excited about having them? >_<

After dinner, most of us made a last-minute decision to go dancing so we packed it up and made our way to the Roxy. We waited in a line for a little bit which wasn’t too bad once we made it to the part underneath the heat lamps. The bouncer, Huggy, wished me a Happy Birthday, which was really sweet of him. The live band was pretty decent and the rest of the music mostly consisted of old-school rock with an occasional modern song in between. I was extra-excited once P!nk’s “Raise Your Glass” came on, just for the fact it was a song post-2005.

I had so much fun just dancing with my friends. We had a blast just gawking at the crazy cougar-ladies and singing extra-loud and totally off-key to the songs.

 

 

But what would a clubbing experience be without one’s share of STRANGER-DANGER stories. I guess I should be flattered that a guy, let alone 3 in that night’s case, would take an interest in me and attempt something considering there were hotter, thinner (and drunker) women there but, seriously, these guys were just creepy. I think I know the reason behind it though. See the girl in the picture with me below?

Don't mind the mustache... it's just kind of one of our things.

Now she is a gorgeous girl and for whatever reason unknown to her or me she just attracts the weirdest guys. Ever. And of course these weirdos she attracts brings their weirdo friends to me. And then she and I are suddenly dancing a lot closer to each other and further away from them, giving out false names or just ducking behind huge, beefy guys. That was just one scenario. Another scenario had me totally freaking out because some guy decided that it was ok to stick his hands into my shirt from behind (it was partly backless) and sliding his freakin’ cold hands around my waist (God knows why because seriously, there were guys there with hotter waists than mine) and then I just hightailed it out of there. Anyways, here's a picture of my top (from Urban Outfitters):

Ugh. Trying to feel flattered but failing miserably. I will make this disclaimer though that if Kellan Lutz/Hugh Jackman/Ian Somerhalder/Common wants to try this move on me, ONE (or all of you at the same time) are more than welcome to anytime.

That's about all for tonight. Until next time...

-Car0-