I had my two crafty friends over for their birthday party last night.
The Artiste and Jeffery's Mom.
We had a very old fashioned kids' party.
There were the loot bags - the designer hand bags I made out of paper and then filled with all sorts of fancy candies. I had to do loot bags because I remembered as a kid how fun it was to see what was inside the loot bags.
There was the roast chicken. More on that later.
There was the cake. The lovely cupcakes I made the night before last that made my entire house smell like chocolate. The cakes that spent the entire night and day locked up in the spare bedroom to keep the three feline food testers from testing each individual cupcake to make sure it was good enough to be served to company. I made 27. 25 of them spent the night there. 13 on the cupcake stand that I bought before I realised cupcakes were cool. Saw it at an un-named department store on sale and got it for another birthday party because I thought the idea of cupcakes as a birthday cake seemed sweet and original. 2 never survived. I ate #26 without icing to make sure they tasted OK and #27... Well I found it on the floor after my three taste testers got a little too quiet.
There were the crafts - we sat and coloured images we rubber stamped with my fancy new markers. And used alchohol inks to custom colour go cups for cold drinks. And then we coloured some more.
All the while we kept each cat in turn from stealing the one cupcake that Missy somehow managed to lick while we were distracted and eating our own cupcakes.
Then today we went on what The Artiste has christened a craft crawl. Which is essentially a lovely day spent with friends trying not to go broke while single handedly saving the economy of Ontario.
ie: We shop.
Today The Artiste dared me not to spend any money in one particular shop. I failed outright but was partly successful because I spent way less than I could have.
I play chauffeur.
While we drive around we talk and catch up and laugh like teenagers.
As I was driving along a busy street this afternoon, The Artiste commented that the guy in the next car needed a nose hair trimmer. We started to giggle. And look around. I was gawking around a little too much and in the process came close the the traffic median trying to get a look at him. We giggled some more.
We always go somewhere for lunch and it's usually after we stop at the shop I was dared not to spend any money in. We crossed the parking lot and right beside the Shwarma Shop and Subway is a clothing store that has some of what The Artiste calls Lori clothes. The store feels like me - the ceilings are 12 feet high, it is a tiny store with racks of artsy looking clothes, there is jewellry, there are hats, there are hand bags that aren't designer but are close enough for me, there are shoes on low round risers in the middle of the store that are to die for, the change rooms have these green striped curtains with pink tassles and ruffles on the bottoms. But, and here is the kicker, everything there is always too expensive. I have tired but never buyed in that store many many times.
However, there were dresses hanging on the side walk and who can resist that???
I made a B-line for something pink and glittery and bohemian/Indian with strappy straps and decided since it was on sale I should try it on.
Now one thing I learned today besides to keep my eyes on the road and off my neighbour's nose hairs was that someone who has girls like I do should not be dress shopping without a bra. It just doesn't do me or the clothing any justice. That being said, I don't normally go around without a bra when clothes shopping but today we were on a craft crawl and I was wearing a halter dress that packed its' own support. In a strappy situation this is a no go and, since this dress was not returnable because it was on sale, I was prepared to leave empty handed. As I was trying to ignore all of the goregeous bags and shoes that were calling my name a pretty little thing with a tiered ruffled skirt and a halter top caught my eye.
I tried that one on and it was so Lori that I got it and switched clothes right there in the store.
Which made Jeffery's Mom do a bit of a double take but like she said... It went with my shoes.
And I felt so French in it. I'm not sure why that's important to me in clothing but it just is. I like dresses that make me feel like I am in Paris... I've never been there and I'm not French at all. I can understand only if people speak slowly to their dog's and children and then only if it is in context. But France and Paris seem so romantic and somehow it makes me feel wonderful to think that Vianne from the novel Chocolat might consider wearing something like this. It comes across in how I act when I wear the dress. I feel more like me, more Lori.
Subway was our ultimate goal after the dress shop. Not that glamourous, definitely not French, but then after all the chocolate from the day before we seemed to have an unspoken agreement to eat more wisely today.
That doesn't mean you can't have bacon though. I don't ever have bacon on my subs because that removed the healthy feeling from the situation but those lovely strips were calling to me today.
"How much is it to add bacon?" I asked.
The cute kid (being nearly 40, if you are young enough that I could have babysat you, then I consider you a kid) behind the sneeze guard said, "How many slices?"
He smiled at me and said, "I'll give you that for free."
The Artiste leaned back and said, "It must be the dress."
We all giggled.