I had a bit of a failed evening on Friday night, in spite of great plans. First was a dessert themed birthday party, then an electro-swing event with live bands, stilt-walkers, fire, and a fashion show, and a BBQ at the batcave to nicely round off the evening. But then the toilet broke and flooded the bathroom, five different people cancelled on me, someone else stood me up at a bus-stop for an hour, and a homeless crackhead stole the box of strawberries I'd bought for the birthday party. So instead of forging forward and going to the wonderful events I still had time for, I went home, took off my pretty costume, and burrowed into my bed with home-made chinese food and the endings to every movie I'd fallen asleep in front of over the past month. (Gasland, I Love You Phillip Morris, Marwencol, Charles Darwin and the Tree of Life). Not the best or bravest reaction, but it wasn't the worst, either, so there's that.
Sunday wasn't much better, but at least I put together an entire box of clothing to donate and got a start on my taxes. Small steps. Almost productivity.
Tomorrow is David's birthday, (and it was just Ray's and Lori's birthdays, too), so we're going to see John Carter tonight in 3D. Then the day after, I leave on the early train out of Vancouver to go down to Seattle for a week. Don't have a solid plan on where I'm staying yet, but sometimes just about anywhere is better than here. It's going to be nice to see my people there. It's been far, far too long.