Watch Where You Step

Friday night I went to see the movie Definitely, Maybe and I have to say I was pleasantly surprised. When I first saw the preview, I thought it looked like another silly chick flick, but I knew the movie got good reviews and people had said it wasn't the typical girl movie. They were right. In the film, the young girl (Abigail Breslin) tries to figure out who her mom is in the story, as told by her father (Ryan Reynolds). He changes the names of the women so it becomes a mystery for her to solve.

What I liked best is the way the film portrayed relationships in a realistic way as opposed to a romantic fairytale. When a relationships fails, we sometimes struggle to define why. There's not always a clear-cut rhyme or reason. Even the two parties involved don't always have an answer. While the predictability element was somewhat lacking, the movie got me thinking about my own failed relationships in a different light so that was a refreshing change for a chick flick-esque film.

Saturday I went downtown with Ebeth and Little M. I hadn't exactly planned on getting drunk but when a few of her male co-workers met up with us, those intentions went out the window. Since men generally encourage females within a ten foot radius to consume copious amounts of alcohol, it's a little hard to stay sober (or relatively sober) when drinks and shots are delivered to you courtesy of someone else's credit card. In fact, it's positively rude not to drink them.

We skipped around to a few different bars and bumped into C-Sharp and P-Funk. It was good to see those guys because it's been a while since I've partied with them. Good to know things never skip a beat since C-Sharp's first words were, "Whose got bigger boobs?" as he asked me to compare the breast size of his present female companion to those of his long-time female friend. We differed on opinion but he'd have a way better idea than me so I give him the benefit of the doubt. I love being considered "one of the guys."

We drank and danced and drank some more. We ended the night at our usual bar where I pissed off P-Funk by nosing into his personal life. I was kind of disappointed he hadn't brought his girlfriend along since I felt like we'd sort of bonded on Halloween, but he said they'd been having problems. Of course I couldn't leave it at that, and had to ask him over and over and over again, "But why?" like an annoying little kid. And following it up with the question every guy's dying to hear, "So when are you gonna buy the ring?" Could I be any more intrusive? Well, we all know the answer to that.

The night didn't quite end there. As me, Ebeth, and Little M were between the 2nd and the 3rd floors of the elevator parking ramp, some guy with his head hung forward proceeded to spew vomit forth like a geyser. And again. Just as Ebeth stepped out of the elevator, it happened yet again, vomit splattered half inside and half outside the elevator, some of the spray landing on Little M's shoe. The two of us then had to quickly exit the elevator (I'm sure there was more where that came from) as we carefully stepped around the piles of puke. All I can say is, it's a good thing I was drunk.