Can I Get A Second Helping Of This Day To Go?

Okay, Alyson, snap out of it.

Before going any further, there was a quote from Friday night that I really should have shared. While we were addressing the line that has formed for Travis' affections, Jeff politely pointed out that he had taken his place early and, "There are no Fast Passes." We both had a really great laugh of that bit of cleverness.

We shall begin our tale with Saturday night.

Glen and Stephanie arrived for "Poker Night" (a sadly degenerated version of the game - we shall stick to weeknights from now on) and we booked for The Dessert Lady, where the only rival for the scrumtrelescent desserts is the decadent ladies' room...



Feeling sufficiently stuffed, we attempted The Blue Martini, but we sorely underestimated the appeal of a live music club/bar situated in a mall. We'll try again some other night when the martinis are free. Stephanie once again stated her desire to satisfy her morbid curiosity about Club Paris, and I rolled my eyes while secretly agreeing I was dying to go.

What a horrible place. Blissfully horrible, but still...there's a giant 12 foot Chihuahua outside. Its toenails are painted sparkly pink. I'm not kidding. Look.



Better still, once inside, the club is a hideous pink nightmare that gives you the feeling that you've just stepped in a puddle of Barbie vomit. At one point, surrounded by pink lights and pink curtains, I was suddenly overcome by the feeling that I had fallen into a giant vagina. Not a good feeling for a straight gal. AND we were surrounded by enormous photos of none other than the Princess of Whatever-the-Hell herself...



The music wasn't horrendous, but the boys were all dressed alike, five feet tall, and 20 years old. Steph ordered us Cosmopolitans, because we simply HAD to have pink drinks and we stood on the balcony surveying the scene.



I do have to say that the VIP rooms look decent, and the place is probably a lot of fun. I was feeling a little jaded, but with Glen and Steph, it was definitely a great time. We thankfully all had that same feeling that we were either way too old or way too hip to be there. I go with hip. I wouldn't trade the experience though - we had a lot of laughs.

Sunday morning I arose with a Cannoli Cake hangover and stumbled around my house getting ready for the beach trip. Travis was down to 30/70 odds of showing by the time he answered his phone and announced he was on his way, thankfully, because we had a great time! On the way down, I made sure to call my dad to wish him happy birthday (and it looks like I may get a dinner date some time this week, which is so exciting!) I drove past the old house in Stuart, and they haven't changed a thing - the pineapple mailbox is even still in place! There's less devastation down there than I expected, although all the roofs are obviously new, and many of the roads are brand new too, having been washed away in Frances. We stopped at several beaches before we found one with parking (everyone else had the same glorious Sunday planned) and once we settled on Jensen Beach, we were difficult to transplant. But look how beautiful a day...



...look how glorious the water!! (Which Travis enjoyed thoroughly and I steered clear of - not an ocean girl, I guess.)

The sand, sadly, was all crushed shell, trucked in after the beaches were destroyed in the hurricane. Fortunately, it didn't seem to dampen anyone's spirits, including those of the children sitting four inches from Travis' head and digging gleefully in the sand. Bwahaha. And we made use of the reversible screen on the digital camera - look how much fun we're having...don't let the badass fool you, he's having a good time...



...I learned I look way too cute in those glasses.

Finally we managed to drag ourselves back to the car to meet Patrick and Jessi...



...(God my best friend is beautiful) for lunch at Crawdaddys in Jensen, one of my favourite places. (Props to Jimmy for the suggestion!) Other than disappointment that Jimmy couldn't make it out, the afternoon was glorious. We tore into the mandated crawfish, which Travis managed to keep his hand a few inches away from long enough for me to get the photo...



...and tortured each other with cameras...



...until we ran out of combinations and had to force hostesses to take the pictures for us. I really wish you could see the six-foot crawfish standing behind us. It's almost but not quite as disturbing as the giant Tinkerbell statue outside of Club Paris.



We shared great stories way too loudly and laughed way too hard, probably turning off everyone within 20 yards of us on the patio...but that's one of my favourite things to do. I've missed Patrick, too...it's so easy to forget how simple it is to chat with people and just be friends.

I'd love to say that we headed home like sensible adults, but we didn't - we headed back out to the beach, where we remained until almost 7:00. It's a miracle I'm not as red as those crawfish, but I had plenty of sunblock. "You're ruining my tan."

THEN we headed back north. I end the story there, with a "thank you". I spent a beautiful day with some of my best friends. Nothing in the world can make for better memories.