On to Sunnier Subjects

Each weekend, I tell myself that I'm going to take it easy and be a Good Child. And yet, somehow, I end up spending each Monday feeling like something that's been chewed up and spit out and stepped on a few times. I'm wondering if I'm ever going to keep that feeling in my head long enough to discourage myself from engaging in full-weekend binges of debauchery, or if I'm just doomed to feel like crap every Monday for the rest of my life. Either way, I had a stupidly entertaining weekend - idiotic boy-drama notwithstanding.

Friday night, I went out with some girlfriends to get my mind off of stuff and celebrate my ability to drink large amounts of liquor. Unfortunately, one of my girls had WAY too much to drink way too early and spent the rest of the night (and most likely the weekend) paying for it. The remaining trooper, Red, and I had a pomegranite martini or two too many and decided that it was a fabulous idea to traipse around Hollywood all night in 3-inch heels. In retrospect NOT such a good idea. But the two of us together are trouble and we managed to each pick up a bartender at a little lounge that is a favorite of mine. Then, I think that we took a cab back to the bar where we had started. We decided not to stay though, and commenced the walk back to my apartment. Then we somehow managed to pick up two more boys on the street! We topped off the drunken insanity by shoveling chili burgers into our faces at Tommy's (which was about halfway between the bar and my house) and passed out as soon as we got back to my house. My bartender ended up text messaging me on Saturday, but didn't actually ask me out - so I have no idea if I'll ever talk to him again or not. Which doesn't bother me, as I didn't even remember his name until he texted it to me! I am a BAD girl. The guy from the corner ended up text-stalking Red for 4 days before she finally told him to back-the-hell-off.

Saturday I managed to stay on the sober side of life - thank goodness. The Sister and I did some shopping, met our friend Kenny Flask (sometimes also known as Kenny Mimosa, Kenny Merlot, Kenny Awesome, and Kenny Boots) at his buddies' house for a barbeque, went to a house party in Pasadena, then back to the house where Kenny Flask and his friends were still knocking them back. The Sister had about 10 jello shots at the house party (they were weak ones though) and so I stuck with driving. Kenny Flask has been trying to set The Sister up with one of his friends for a little while now, and the guy was definitely showing some interest - which apparently only I noticed. The Sister was shocked when I told her - but the guy is way too much on the rebound for her to be interested right now. I fell asleep on the couch, which we took as a pretty good sign that it was time to go.



Yesterday is where things got really nuts. It was LA Gay Pride day, and The Sister and I were planning on meeting up with a gay friend to watch another friend perform in a dance thing. We were planning on just hanging out for a while and seeing the sights, having a drink or two, then going to Cat n Fiddle to watch the live jazz around 6:30ish. Things did not going according to plan. The Sister and I ended up staying in West Hollywood (the center of LA gay culture) ALL DAY LONG. We had so much to drink, and so much fun, it was ridiculous. I kissed gay boys and straight boys, watched people take body shots off of impossibly gorgeous bartenders, lost my sweater, somehow made it back to my sister's house without remembering a moment of the cab ride, and woke up this morning incredibly upset that it was Monday. I had apparently fallen asleep (actually, I think passed out is more applicable here) at the bar, so they put me in a cab. I'm sure I paid the cabbie, since he let me out of the car, but that's all I know. I vaguely remember struggling to unlock the door to The Sister's apartment. This was around 8pm. The Sister stumbled in around 2 am, so hammered that she was knocking things over. Apparently our gay friend had gotten so trashed that they got kicked out of every bar they went to. The Sister was wonderful enough to get out of bed this morning at 6am and drive me to my car, which was parked a few blocks away. I can't emphasize enough how early I'm going to go to bed tonight. But man, we had SO much fun. And this time I was smart enough not to wear heels. Plus I was given universally AMAZING reviews on my kissing, which was a needed bump up in my self-esteem. I actually was kissing this boy, who is not only an actor, but his creepy drugged-out identical twin brother used to live next door to my ex-boyfriend and sneak into his house and steal things. But it was fun and he was cute. I love and often can't believe what a strangely small town LA can be.

Lyrics of the Day
"So we buy a six; decide to split – she has a downtown apartment. She opens the door, falls to the floor, says, “I’m bitter sick of sweet and pure, take me now I’m yours.”" The Good Life Notes in His Pockets