Oh holy hell, I have good stories from this weekend! I suppose I shouldn't sell myself in the first line because the stories aren't that fabulous but more odd...oh well, I'll tell the tale you decide.

It all started Friday afternoon--I leave work and return a voicemail to my soon to be sister-in-law to discover two things. 1) my brother has a job as football coach and 2) they have decided to move the wedding up a year. Now the first is cause for great cheer the second is cause for extreme action. We now have three months to get this thing planned. Looks to be interesting. So Saturday comes, I go into work for a couple of hours before meeting my mother and sis and heading to the bridal shop. A hellacious car ride later we are trying on dresses and doing the crazy wedding dress dance. A whole lot of squeezing, pinching, sucking in and sweating later a wedding dress had been found. Three dresses after that we had the bridesmaid dresses. It was absolutely amazing. For those of you whom have never shopped for wedding apparel you might not understand the sheer magnitude of this task or the extreme luck required to find both wedding dress and attendants dress in one day. But we did. And it was all pretty and flattering. I still can't believe it.

Saturday progresses we go to dinner, everyone goes home and around 9:00pm I fall asleep on the couch, move to the bed at 10:30. Looks to be a normal, lame saturday night right? Oh wait, there's more.

2:00 am the lights flip on and I hear my roommate yelling something at me. Waking up more than a little bit groggy I finally understand she is telling me to get up and get dressed. We are going out. I don't go out after going to bed. I definitely don't wake up at two in the morning to go out. However, go out I did. Her latest internet boy knocks on the door, walks in looking like a hippie hoodlum and we're off to see my friend's band playing at a bar down the street. Here I shall digress to give you a little bit of backstory.

My roommate has taken to the yahoo personals scene. While it hasn't yielded anything fruitful yet, it has certainly provided some funny stories. I shall refer to these gentlemen as #1, #2 and #3. #1 was a perfectly nice man that was perfectly not her type. Scrawny, boring and sheepish she would have broken him in half long before anything exciting was ever considered. #2 was a self-proclaimed straight man who had the soundtrack to "Beaches" memorized. I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions on that one. #3 showed up at our door last night at two in the morning. He is a gym teacher who supposedly does 150 push-ups and 1000 sit-ups a day. He would qualify as "wiry". He is also the former lead singer of a heavy-metal band, has a crazy old army jacket he bought from the salvation army and a weird hair on top, bald on the sides haircut. None of these things are particularly negative--they simply aren't my roommate. He couldn't be more not her type if he were a woman parading as a man.

So, we are now at a bar watching the band. It's mostly late nineties, early 00 metal music and I don't mind because I love that shit. My roommate, however, was less than the thrilled. The crowd...the crowd is where the true story lies.

I have always wondered, through my sci-fi/fantasy novels, what it would be like to meet zombies or brownies. I met both last night. The crowd moved like half-dead animals, hypnotized by the screaming music pouring from the speakers. Everyone moved in time, dancing in exactly the same way, their bodies contorted in perfect unison to bounce back and forth with the bass drum pounding into our guts. It was amazing and scary at the same time. But then I looked around and saw by the door a most unbelievable sight. It was a large man, probably somewhere around six feet two inches or so in bib overalls. His outfit was inhanced only by the straggly, long gray hair lying lank on his shoulders. He also had a large brown birthmark on his forehead. All of these characteristics separated would be nothing amazing, but too see such a person, encompassing everything at once blew my mind. You just don't see people like that normally. I was worried for a moment I had never truly gotten out of bed.

We make it home safe and sound, lay around and talk as best we can with our ears ringing louder than the phone and eventually go to bed around five or five thirty. It was two this afternoon before I awoke again. Not ten minutes after getting out of bed I drug my foot across a nail sticking up from our tack strip and ripped an inch long chunk of skin off my foot. That one hurt. When you gash yourself within ten minutes of getting up just go back to bed. There is never a more clear cut sign that the day just isn't going to go your way.

So that is my weekend story. I don't know why I was so worked up over Valentine's day, after all it's just a day like any other. But I'm a woman and I think I'll pull that excuse out again to cover my ass. Maybe I'm just a crazy bitch...nah, couldn't be. I'm entirely too sweet natured for that. ;)