Saving Friday.

Right, well, I've been sitting here multi-tasking. Read: watching "What Not To Wear," pulling an eight month old cat off of my curtains, drinking coffee, and reading Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I realized I never shared my tale of last Friday with you all, and that it's probably way over due, but that what I thought of writing about today definitely wouldn't make sense unless you heard it from me, first. So...the Cliff's Notes version of the worst night ever. 

Objective: Go out for drinks with friends: one "classy" beverage with friends after a concert, and a few "not-so-classy beverages with friends at a bar where a birthday party was in full swing. 

SWBAT: Forget about what was obviously the Hell-week of the semester, and possibly dance. 

Activity: After the wind ensemble concert, I went over to the Press Room for what inevitably turns into a drink, a dessert, and a ton of gossip. When the time comes to pay, and boyfriend and Kelly come to pick me up to go over to said bar party, my wallet is not in my purse. I realize I went to get cash, and left it in my car, my car is at my house and my keys are missing. Boyfriend and Kelly love me enough to go on a wild goose chase for my keys. Search proves unsuccessful. I realize no only can I not get into my car to get my wallet, but I can't get into the bar because my ID is with my keys and the bar is 21 tonight. So I don't have to wash dishes, lil Bec pays for my cannoli and white Russian and I return home, defeated, to find my keys. Now, if you're paying attention, some asshole broke into my car a few weeks ago, and my wallet is now in plain view on my seat. It must come out, and I'm convinced at this point that I dropped my keys on German Street and some creeper is going to find my house and come visit me in the middle of the night. So, I call AAA. My AAA card is in my car, and they take a half an hour to find my number. Guy comes, gets lost, sets off my car alarm, wallet is safe, spare car key is in Texas, night is ruined. Everyone leaves my panicked house, and I search the closet one more time. There, like a beacon, are my keys in the back corner of my closet, wrapped up in the jeans I threw in a frenzy trying to find them. It is now 3 a.m. and the bar hosting the party is closed and I'm livid. 

Discussion: Was .bethany. in the wrong searching for her camera before going out on a Friday night in such a hurry, or are fantastic alcohol-induced memories worth the risk? 

Lesson learned. My purse is already packed for tonight, camera already in an inside pouch, and my keys? Not leaving my purse. Tonight are girly drinks and dancing, tomorrow is time with a very good friend I haven't seen in a while, rushing will not ruin my night. 

Have a good weekend, bloggy-friends!