I'm sitting in Seattle right now...hanging out at my friends' apartment. They are at work. I am not...lazy girl I am...the most productive things I've done today are take a shower, bang out Moonlight Sonata on their piano, poke through V. S. Naipaul's Beyond Belief, and check my email. The lady of the house should be back in an hour and then we'll have lunch and have one of our infamous this-is-the-reason-we-could-never-study-together-during-undergrad conversations and then I'll head back to Van, and the weekend will be over.
This was one of those weekends that felt like it went on forever...it seems impossible to believe that Friday was only three days ago. My sister and I had a shopping date with my mom during the day...and Friday night we had one of our phenomenal dinners with my crazy god parents. Fantastic Italian restaurant called Amacord. My father was in charge of reservations and of course neglected to make them...8 o'clock rolls around, our party is at the house drinking wine and eating brie with Leslie Stowe's Rosemary and Pecan crackers (seriously the most phenomenal cracker with a soft cheese...completely unbeatable...Eve, I'll bring a box with me)...and all of a sudden the question is where are we going to eat...good thing the owner of the restaurant likes my dad...he had things rearranged within a half hour and we were sitting down to eat. They do fantastic risotto there with wild mushrooms...and they'll half the size for you so that it's perfect for an appetizer (the gnocchi is also sensational), halibut with white wine and capers for a main, and enough tirimisu for the table to round out the meal. All of this washed down with a really great BC wine - I think it was a Sand Hill Pino Grigio. One of the most fun things about this restaurant is they will often serve you shots of liquor and squares of chocolate with your check: Frangelico, Sambuca, Amaretto. It's always disappointing to me that there is only one shot per person.
Saturday morning I awoke at the crack of 6 AM, nursing a mild hangover. I had to pick my friend up from the airport at 6:30...she was flying in from Alberta for our colleague's wedding in Qualicum Beach. And so we grabbed her luggage and hightailed it to the ferry which we took to Victoria. We had reservations at noon for high tea at the Empress hotel. I've never done this before, and though I hear that it is a rip off (54 bucks for a pot of tea and some finger sandwiches)...I also think that it's an experience to be had at least once....And my friend had never done it either. It was lovely...tea was served in a silver pot...we ate scones with clotted cream and smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches, and felt very Victorian. It was also very interesting for the people watching...I mean come on...this is high tea at the Empress...not happy hour at the Boom Boom Room....I don't think it's too much to ask middle aged women to bust out a bra...maybe leave the crushed velvet halter top in the hotel room...perhaps a pair of heels to replace the grimy old flip flops.
After tea we drove the Malahat up to Qualicum for the wedding, which was lovely...on the grounds of this old inn overlooking the ocean. There were bubbles...and we know how I love to blow the bubbles. Most of the guests were family of the bride and groom...and then the groom had some friends there. I was with a party of 5 of the bride's law school friends and, for the second time this summer at weddings, I felt a bit like the Witches of Eastwick or something. The ungodly single city girls whose dresses are cut too low, and who drink too much; who are ogled by the husbands and scorned by the wives. Example: the MC (single friend of the groom) decides that the clinking of glasses = bride and groom kiss rule only applies if the clinkers kiss first. Of course it's only women at our table and somehow after a few glasses of wine we were convinced to up the titilation factor by kissing eachother. Oi...and then yada yada yada...there may be some compromising pictures of me and the best man. I don't know why they let me out of the house alone. It's the problem with drinking wine out of carafes...if you have the bottles, then you see them on the table and can monitor your consumption...but with carafes and waitresses who are on the ball...I probably had the better part of two bottles of white wine over the course of the night...or maybe more. Oh well...it was a good time.
Sunday morning came far too quickly. I had promised the bride and groom that I would drive them to Seatac in Seattle, where they were leaving for their honeymoon in Costa Rica. I figured that it would be a way to get my gas paid to visit my friends in Seattle. We thought that four hours would be plenty of time to take the ferry across and drive down to seattle...2 for the ferry...2 for the drive to Seattle. Alas, border line ups and crazy construction on the highway...we left the hotel at 1:15PM and we arrived at Seatac at 9PM on the dot. It was a LONG trip...especially given our hungover conditions. That being said...great tunes...good conversation...I can't exactly complain. Then...bottle of wine with my friends...yams with butter and brown sugar which I've never had and absolutely loved...and then one of the deepest, soundest sleeps in my recent history.
And that brings me to now. It was a good weekend...the kind that leaves you glowing...and also slightly hung over.
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2 comments:
Yeah, so as drunk as I may or may not have been, I definitely don't remember saying the *blog* was boring; only that I was bored at work when I read it, and so the blog saved me from that.
I can't stand misunderstandings. Hope the rest of Montreal treated you deservedly.
I agree, and I'm glad that I could provide some respite.
Take care!
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