Seriously, what color is this nail polish?

It's not that I'm slacking, it's just that I figured out blogging once a day was useless considering I have a somewhat mediocre and occasionally boring life. Regardless, because I didn't have the opportunity to write anything this weekend, I now have plenty of things to cover.

Friday ended with EM and I getting our happy hour on at Chevy's because $3 margaritas are assuredly better than $8 margaritas - especially when they are accompanied by steak nachos. I became blatantly aware that I shop really well when I'm under the influence, evidenced by the fact that a stroll through IKEA yielded me with a very lovely magazine-organization-system, a.k.a. "box" because I have serious issues with throwing my beloved glossies out and the stacks of Vogue, Vanity Fair and Rolling Stone are threatening the structural integrity of our abode. EM and I headed to another bar, only to be lurked by a senior citizen in a sparkly St. Patrick's Day party hat. I was under the impression that he was "special," but EM was sure that he was just drunk, and so after a drink and a game of pool, we left. Seeing old people alone at bars makes me sad, or so I tried to explain to EM. You have to think that there's just something awful in their past that had led them to this point, you know? EM and her boyfriend disagreed, though.

"Maybe he's there alone because he's an asshole," EM's boyfriend said. I guess he could be right... getting old doesn't automatically make you a good person. Right?

Anyway, Saturday dawned gloriously! EM's boyfriend (must come up with a better name for him) had a hankerin' for waffles and promptly ran out to buy a waffle iron. So good. Post-tastiness, I grabbed my wallet and ventured to the Beverly Center for what turned out to be a splendid day of shopping. Whoever said "retail therapy is a joke" clearly didn't stumble onto the Bloomingdale's denim sale.

Of course, just as I was leaving with full shopping bags and a lighter heart, TOL seemed to sense it from across the country and texted me. Nothing important, just an annoying little reminder that he still hasn't been hit by a taxi and enough to make my stomach flip and give my heart a painful squeeze. Sonofabitch.

Much of this anxiety was cured by a long, involved phone call to The Bestie in New Orleans. I definitely need to plan another trip out to see her. First, though, Seattle! The countdown has begun: 22 days. After that, I think San Fran. EM and I were discussing it on Friday and I think it's about time to get back up to NorCal and explore.

Last random thought of the post: I bought a bunch of nail polish from the Sephora/OPI collection and I have no idea what color "Never Enough Shoes" is. When I bought it, it was brown-ish, when I put it on, it was more of a navy color, but now it looks black. So weird.

Anyway, today's going to be a productive Monday. I can feel it.