Another weekend has come and gone.

It started with a bang and ended with something of a whimper. Friday was the much anticipated R. Kelly Trapped in the Closet Singalong. Pretty much half of my friends were there, which was pretty damn exciting, but not as exciting as the moments when the entire population inside Mezzanine was slow dancing -- can you call it grooving? -- to R Kelly's oeuvre. The only downside was that after showing all of the first twelve chapters as well as some classic music videos and spoofs, they only showed maybe four of the second part, and that they showed out of order. Disrespectful to R, in my opinion. We got home late and dried out a little bit -- I was wearing the least rain-appropriate outfit ever, had no umbrella, and was literally soaked through -- before heading out to a party briefly.

The next day was profoundly unproductive. After a Boogaloo's brunch and a long wait at Walgreen's for prescriptions that weren't even filled, and then a long break for showers and whatnot, Justin and Ace and I went to get pedicures in the Lower Haight. It was fantastic -- cheaper than the place I'd been before, plus they have massage chairs. I think I fell in love a little, and feel more inclined to indulge more often, even though I always thought of the regular mani-pedi as an unbearably snobby New York thing. (No offense.) I rushed back to meet Becca for a dinner at the Front Porch, in outer Mission/Bernal (where does my neighborhood end? I have no idea). We had really tasty fried chicken and a beet salad. I am pro-beets. After that it was another rush back home and then to the Connecticut Yankee to rendezvous for "The Party Bus." Peattie's birthday plan was basically to get a bunch of people at this bar and then get them all on the same 22-line bus up to his house. It was actually impressive. Dan and I were the last to arrive at the bar, and there were a ton of people there. (I'm not positive, but I thought I counted 22 people total.) We had a beer and then with the help of multiple smart phones and NextMuni, we hopped on an absolutely empty bus with a totally indifferent bus driver. It was quite the ride, I am really glad I was there for it. The highlight was probably when this teenage kid with majorly sagging pants got on the bus and in his rush completely dropped his pants. We all burst out laughing because haven't you always wondered how those kids keep their pants up? I mean the waist is essentially at their knees to begin with. Anyway, it turns out they don't always keep them up. It was a pretty classic moment. The party was fun and involved a lot of Daft Punk and the Peattie family Lynchburg Lemonade, and it was very late before me, Dan and Justin made it home and crashed.

Yesterday was a total veg day. The first part of the day was spent half-helping Justin move, which didn't take that long but did require me walking up a flight and a half of steep stairs enough to make me sweat despite carrying approximately five pounds' worth of his belongings while four guys carried all the big stuff. We hit up Tartine for some late buttery breakfast and actually sat there to eat it, which was a new experience for me because my primary exposure to Tartine is Dan bringing it home for me when he is on his productive weekend kicks. I had a croissant (special treat, I usually avoid pastries) and a hot chocolate, continuing my ban on coffee. It seems stupid because coffee has no calories and hot chocolate has a lot, but I'm sticking with it. This hot chocolate was especially good, too, very actually chocolatey instead of just sweet. Then I settled in for the remainder of my day. I watched four movies yesterday, in a true moment of sloth and self-medication. The films of choice were Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which is so perfect, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, When Harry Met Sally (a rewatching necessitated by a conversation I had Saturday night), and You've Got Mail. Because by that point I had no shame, even though both Ace and Justin were around for that moment of girliness. I was pleased to discover that Ace has the movie memorized even better than I do, and I was also pretty excited to discover that a week from tomorrow is the release date of the 10-year anniversary edition of You've Got Mail. We are so timely.

So it sounds like I didn't manage to get anything done this weekend, but I actually did. I finally embarked on my long-term planned project to throw out my stacks and stacks of magazines. I have been saving them for a reason, which is that I want to cut out the parts I want and recycle the rest and rid my life of clutter. I tossed at least forty magazines yesterday, and in the process discovered that I have even more magazines than I thought. It's a surprisingly hard process to make myself do... I love the glossiness of magazines, and sometimes things are so much better in the context of the mag than they are separated out. I have mini-crises of conscience and purpose when I don't cut out the picture of the recipe to go with the recipe, since I think the picture is what will inspire me to make it, and if I'm not going to be inspired to make it I shouldn't cut it out, and... yeah. Suffice it to say that I am weird.

Also, I think my camera got rained on Friday night while I was tramping around near Civic Center in the downpour, and I think it's broken. We'll have to see.