This weekend I decided to reverse the routine of last week. I opted to go out instead of working. So today I’m wrecked for completely different reasons and a little hung over.We started off the night with dinner at this amazing restaurant, “Ray’s on the River”. I’ve wanted to try this place for the longest time. Its fancy schmancy and overlooks the Chattahoochee river.
The resso was for 8.30pm and I nearly didn’t make it. In true female style I couldn’t find a thing to wear. This restaurant had a dress code but I had mentally chosen my attire earlier in the day, thus saving hours of prep work by avoiding tearing up my wardrobe trying on various clothing combinations, or so I thought. But once it came time to get ready and I actually put on my mentally prepared outfit, it was not cute. It’s so frustrating, I was going for the pretty, delicate, feminine look, unfortunately, I was anything but. I have this body type that is toned, yes, but a little blocky too, so pulling of petite can be a challenge. I ended up looking and feeling like the Hulk on the verge of ripping the shirt off myself. Not at all pretty, delicate or feminine.
I had no plan b. Now I had to commence tearing through my wardrobe and I only had 15 minutes, so I’m under titanic pressure. I’m belting it from the bedroom via the bathroom to get to the wardrobe, then back to check the potential ensemble in the mirror. Fintan (the kitty) doesn’t know what’s going on, but he’s having a blast racing around with me and taking spontaneous leaps at random sleeves, belts and straps hanging off the clothes.
But I finally found something and got on my way.
The food and wine was great. And after a posh, civilized dinner we thought it would be a great idea to finish off the evening in a couple of our local Red Neck bars, freak watching. We started off in one bar, but had to quickly drink up and get the hell out of there, cos one of the local “studs” decided to try and make us his new best friend. So we grabbed the purses and slipped out while he went to the bathroom and ran, in heels, to the next bar.
We were there about 20 minutes dancing and shouting along to the awful karaoke singers, when in walks the “stud”. F*#k. He spotted us at the exact time we spotted him, so there was no ducking under the table and crawling across the floor to the exit. He comes stomping over and demands to know why we got him kicked out of the bar. “What the hell are you talking about “stud”? Apparently he got kicked out not long after we left and decided it was our fault and told us we could make amends by buying him a drink. Dream on “stud”. It took a hot minute but we eventually got rid of him and partied the rest of the night with locals.
So today, I’m pretty much good for nothing. So I didn’t even try. And now I’m under a duvet watching the Oscars and envying the fabulous women of Hollywood who can pull off the petite, feminine look, flawlessly. Bitches.
(Don't ask me who most of these people are, I don't even know, but we all had a fun evening)
1 comment:
Our bodies are not made for "feminine". Ughh...it's so frustrating. The other week I shopped for 3 days looking for a dress and couldn't find one that didn't make me look like a contestant on Gladiators!
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