Where it's always girl's night out

Last Thursday, dressed to the nines, the girls and I headed out to the Phoenix to see Lily Allen.

The Players:

Court and I.

Ashley and Brie.

Fellow j-schoolers Gill and Robyn were also at the show, along with a handful of Brie's girlfriends from London. With British ska-pop beats, some mixed drinks, and a whole lotta of dancing, the night quickly turned into an unintentional girls' night out. (Karon, you were definitely missed, though!)

This guy was about the only one making up for the serious lack of testosterone in the room. There's no better way to assert your malehood than through an excessive amount of thick gold chains. His sweet dance moves only solidified his manliness.


After the show was over, I went to the restroom to call Robyn and Gill to figure out where they'd dissapeared to, while the girls went to grab another drink.

Unfortunatly, when I tried to get back into the bar area, the bouncer told me I had to leave. I spent the next 15 minutes alone, franctically waving my arms in the air at perodic intervals trying to catch the girls' attention. It finally worked and they came over with a drink they'd bought me, which I had to sip whenever the bouncer appeared to be distracted. (He later laughed watching us take this series of pictures.)

Reunited, we headed on to the next venue; Kensington's Supermarket.

But not before Brie took some pictures of herself. (See? I'm not the only one!)

And then tried to stuff little Ashley into her big bag.

Ash, Danielle, Brie, Court and Robyn. . .

. . .and Gill, looking hot doing her own thing.

Can you guess which early '90s rap song Brie is shaking her rump to? (Leave your guesses in the comments.)

Oh, you like that? Just wait for it.

Because it's all about the Brie dance montage.

Ah, I love this girl! It just won't be the same without team upstairs!

I think we did some good work on Thursday night ladies.

On Friday morning, I rolled my sore feet and body out of bed early to catch the bus to Ottawa. Joanna came to pick me up at the bus stop.

And then we ate too much,commiserated about being trashbags and discussed all the latest Vanuatu news.

On Saturday, Melissa and I got in trouble for taking pictures at Ron Mueck's exhibit. The one security guard scolded us in a way that made me feel like an elementary school kid caught for chewing gum in class.

So after we were done looking at the exhibit, we asked a young security guard where we could take pictures so that Melissa could get out all the thumbs-up pictures that she was dying to let loose. "You can go upstairs and take pictures of the stuff like Picasso's stuff. It's okay when the artist is dead or whatever, because then they obviously don't care." He paused for a second, weighing in his own mind whether his analysis of the situation was correct. "Because Picasso's dead, right?"

"What do you think this one of called?" Melissa challenged me.

"'Giant Paint Chip,' I guessed.

"I'm going to call it. . ." Melissa thought for a second before concluding, "'Complimentary Neutrals. . .Of Life.'"

We were both kind of correct. I think our names were better. They should probably pay us to name crappy paintings in museums. Make them more leigitmate, you know?

Then Melissa lit up a cigarillo, which I'm pretty sure she had been dreaming about all throughout the art gallery.

But we couldn't leave before taking a cliched tourist picture of the giant spider.

I was staying at Monique's place all weekend. As two Cold Lakers far from home, we bond together on holidays whenever we're feeling a little homesick. It works out well.

We spent most of the weekend eating and I spent my free time relaxing, sleeping and reading.

With no desire to have turkey for our Easter feast, Monique and her boyfriend Craig took me to the restaurant they work at for dinner. Monique prepared the appetizers.

While Craig and I watched.

For starters: an appetizer plate and bruschetta.

Monique and Craig.

Craig made dinner while Monique and I watched.

And I mixed some drinks that made us miss home a little bit more: singapore slings and vodka paralyzers.

My delicious vegetarian easter meal? A stuffed red pepper and Peruvian mashed potatoes. Delicious.

The holiday has never quite felt (and tasted) so good.