where thrills are cheap...and love divine

as the risk of yet again breaking out my seth cohen inflection, last night was AWESOME. my whole "going-out" thing has been severely lacking of late, due in part to my general reticence to bar-hop in that gorgeous seattle rain, but really mostly to the deficient planning skills of my friends and acquaintances. most of the young men i know seem to be virtual shut-ins and jabu's, the bar down the street, is about as far as the atrophied muscles in their limbs can take them. sadly, i live in capitol hill while all of my freinds live in queen anne, so "the bar down the street" is still ten bucks (or a begged pick-up)away, not to mention jabu's sucks a fat one. it's the kind of bar with televisions blaring seahawk games and ESPN news and old dudes making out in the corner with their faded levi's wearing white trash girlfriends. luckily for me, one of my intrepid queen anne-living girlfriends decided to shake things up and declare friday night "ladies night," or "ladeez nite," if you'll permit me.

i, of course, was a little disappointed when they suggested we go to sky, which is the new space that opened where maui used to be, which was where polly esther's was before that. yeah, gross, i said, but i figured if i got drunk enough at the pre-funk, i wouldn't care. so i dressed up casual-sexy and fancied myself quite the dish in my stretch paper denim and cloth jeans, tastefully reconstructed indie designer top and red pointy flats and headed over to sanna's house to down some colorado bulldogs while snarking about that living with MJ re-broadcast with beth, allison, heather, mindy and kathy. too drunk to drive, we cabbed it over to sky, which was closed for some private birthday party, naturally, so we headed across the street to the EMP just in time to catch some truly hideous salsa dancing. at this point, i was forced to take matters into my own hands and insist that we escape and make a break for one of the best meat markets in town, belltown billiards, or BTB, as my work buddies insist on calling it, though i have pointed out on numerous occasions (and to no avail) that "belltown" is one word, so they should abbreviate it correctly to BB. a fratty-lookingguy there called me cameron, which i didn't get, so he explained that my body reminded him of cameron diaz? offended, i cordelia-ed "why, because i'm tall and have small breasts? please don't tell me you were looking because 'as if.'" apparently he just meant that i'm tall and thin, which always gets me because i never really consider myself thin. then i started thinking about it, and you know,everyone with whom i graduated seems to be skinnier and skinner every time i see him/her. i mean, i've lost something like 30 pounds since 2001, maybe 40 now that i think about it. and all in the boobs and the butt, seemingly. i have neither t nor a. but i haven't done anything and i don't think they other post-grads have either. is college really *that* fattening? hmm. asks the girl who used to make meals of hostess cupcakes and breadsticks.

long story short, a good time was had by all. we drank, we danced (well, *they* danced and i kept drinking), we told the bartender it was sanna's birthday and got free shots which we took like men. i fended off suitors with my patented brand of bitchiness and mentally stabbed every girl wearing that same pair of new york wash boot cut seven jeans while secretly hoping they would notice that my PDC's were much cooler and more expensive, and didn't have that silly squiggle across the butt-cheeks to boot. i bonded with the lovely sanna over our amazonian stature and propensity to be very rude to strangers, both consciously and un-. i checked myself out in every reflective surface i passed, just to confirm that my ass looked as hot as i thought it did. and it did. i made that drunken profession of sisterly love to all parties and received love in return. i even shared a cream cheese hot dog and a cab with heather, who is quite a treat and way too good for ashley j. mohr.

good fucking times, man.

now, i am hung-over and loving every goddamn minute of it.