Day Thanksgiving: my favorite season begins

Virtual Me - because cyberspace is the only place
I'll ever wear skinny jeans

I love Christmas. I love the carols, the decorations, the parties - I even love the cold and snow. Granted, being from California, I mostly have loved the cold and snow from afar. But I'm convinced it will be wonderful. So now that Thanksgiving is here and the Christmas season has officially begun, I couldn't be happier. I can't wait to go shopping to the sounds of "Jingle Bells" and "White Christmas," bake sugar cookies with red and green sprinkles, and curl up on the couch with hot chocolate and watch "Love, Actually" for the millionth time.

Which sort of segues nicely into the Boy Update.
Boy 1:
You may remember from last week's post that this boy was my assassin. Well, last week at the law school ice-skating trip (Short aside: ice skating in Central Park is so much fun! I was a bit disappointed though because forecasted snow never materialized. Oh well.) who should I run into but Boy#1. Had a lot of fun ice skating with him and my friend- let's call her Boy Crazy. Then we all hopped into a cab and went to this law/business/journalism school mixer. Yay! We talked for a while, sparks weren't exactly flying but I think it went well. (Another aside: I also made friends with a cute boy from the business school and an educational rap producer. Neither of whom ever called me.)
And this is the part where it truly gets Junior High School: a couple of days later, I talk to Boy Crazy, and turns out she's been trading messages back and forth with Boy 1!! Now, to be fair, I didn't ever come out and say. "I like this one, hands off!" But I thought it was obvious. It's ok though, frankly I'm cuter.

Boy 2:
Boy 2 is from California (as is Boy 1, actually,) and I invited him to our NYE party. Lest you think this sounds romatic/exciting, let me recreate our conversation:

Me: So what are you doing over break?
Boy 2: You know, relaxing, reading. I was thinking of going off into the Sierras.
Me: Like, Into the Wild style?
Boy 2: Sort of. And maybe to Tahoe. Are you going back to the Bay Area?
Me: Yeah. My friends and I are having a New Year's party. We're getting a hotel room. I gotta figure out what to wear.
Boy 2: Oh, so I'm not invited?
Me: But I thought you just said you'd be be up in the wilderness? Otherwise I would have invited you. You should come.

Yeah.

Meditation for Yuppies
In my attempt to stay sane and relatively stress-free, I've been trying to find a weekly meditation group. I had started going to the Zen Center when I was in San Francisco, and meditating somewhat regularly, and especially with all the high-strung Type As running around the law school, I thought I could really use it here. Except that the first place I went to turned out to have cancelled their service. And the second place I went to had a service, but it was in Amharic. Awkward.

Well, I finally found an ashram down in Chelsea that had a service, in English, and hadn't closed down. The branch of buddhism they pratice, Shambala, sounded really interesting- it's all about trying to pratice Buddhist principles while living out in the world.

I knew something was wrong though when I saw the teacher's bio, and it said he currently worked on Wall Street. Now, most Buddhist teachers are monks or people who have at least devoted some portion of their lives to intensive study. It'd be like having a priest who practiced corporate law on the side. And most of the people there were clearly yuppie Wall Street types - who the fuck wears Dolce and Gabbana to meditation? And they were all very Type A, asking lots of questions and even taking notes. People, it's meditation, not business school, you can't ace an exam to reach Enlightenment. Although I did really enjoy it, up until the question and answer period. And as much as I hate meditating with yuppies, i did see some cute boys in suits. And I love boys in suits.

Special Edition Post for Men: Are you a douchebag?

PLEASE HELP US WITH OUR STUDY

We are in the process of conducting a highly scientific study to determine the National Percentile of American Male Douchebags.

If you are not a douchebag, this is also your opportunity to enter your information into the National Registry of Datable Men.

http://www.surveymonkey.com/s.aspx?sm=2zam_2biDjeg_2fl2D4CoIEF8A_3d_3d

Thank you for your help.

Day 49: This continues to be just like high school

So I've got a crush on a boy. Two boys, actually.

Boy #1
The first boy asked me to have coffee with him so he could kill me. Ok not really, it was for a game we're playing called Assassins. I'm a little bitter. But he's cute. We've been exchanging messages via Facebook. Maybe he'll aske me to coffee again. But pay this time. I'd have sex with him then.








Boy #2
Boy #2 is my former Law School Crush, who I got over because I realized he's a douchebag, but then I had another moment of clarity wherein I realized he's actually just sensitive and slightly (ok maybe more than slightly) screwed up. And me being me, I am of course totally attracted to this. Also I think we'd have the craziest-looking kids ever. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Because if threre's anything I've learned in the past couple of months, it's that I should never, ever trust my instincts with men. Because I like the screwed-up ones. The ones who will ignore me and tell me they can't handle a relationship, but let's just keep having sex anyway.


Admitting you have a problem is the first step, right? Got that down. Now I've just got to work on Step 2: Not Doing The Stupid Thing.

Speaking of problems, the other day I meant to study, but walked thirty blocks in search of a Starbucks that a)had space and b) didn't look sad and/or shady only to end up in front of Filene's Basement. So I bought a pair of jeans instead. Oops. The week before, I bought a winter coat at Uniqlo. That doesn't count though because it was on sale and only cost $80 - I had expected to spend at least twice that! As a reward for my bargain-hunting skills I bought myself a really warm sweater [dress]. (I put "dress" in brackets because I think it's just supposed to be a really long sweater, but it totally works as a dress.) It's not my fault though, it's the economy - every week some store seems to be having an amazing sale to try and entice poor susceptible souls like myself to buy something. It ought to be illegal. Oooh, maybe it is illegal. I wonder if I can sue...

DAY 48: I'm ready to commit

Dear San Francisco,

I know things have been rough between us lately and it's all my fault; I haven't been around much. I haven't been spending enough time with you, or giving you the attention you need.

But I want you to know, darling, that you're all I think about when I'm away. When I'm in another city, all I can do is compare that city to you, and tell everyone about how much better you are. You don't know how much I've missed you these past three weeks.

So, if I know you're the one for me, why do I keep leaving? I can't explain it. I'm like a rolling stone- but I want you to know that I'm trying to change my ways. I'm sorry that I've been unfaithful, and I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. And always remember: you're my home; you're the one I come back to; you're the one I want. None of those other cities meant anything to me.

For the forseeable future, my weekends will be all about you: museums, concerts, movies, dance clubs, shooting ranges, happy hours, Circa creme brulee; whatever you have planned, that's what we'll do. You make me feel so good, I can't imagine what life would be like without you.

I promise you, the next time a super-hot male stripper hits on me, it won't be in an airport terminal in Charlotte, North Carolina. It will be in a bar in San Francisco.

San Francisco, I love you.

xoxo

*MJ*

Day 47: Strange Encounters of the Human Kind

Ask a Scientist is completely responsible for making me swoon over the POWER of Osmosis, specifically the forward kind, and for making both S and I remember that although we ogle cute furry animals,shop,dance, and _insert girl activity here___ we still have functioning brains.

Unfortunately while we were getting giddy over the possibly of harnessing the natural elements in urine to block radiation for future life on the moon, while simultaneously filtering it creating a natural power source we moved next to a young scientist named Leaf (names have not been changed to protect the innocent). Although Leaf was not the man of my dreams he did grow up on a goat farm, is inventing a bike would propel you forward using the wind biking creates and oh yeah he's a scientist. So when he asked me for my number I gave it to him - blinded by science/goat farming (I love cheese).

I wish I could say we meet for coffee like he proposed or that I'd called him like a texted I would...butttttt I flaked. Lesson I have already learned, relearned. Just say no initially and don't be a bitch.

Although the scientist, with justification, probably thinks I'm mean a guy named Thomas (*real name) had no justification thinking this about me and successfully engaged me in the strangest conversation(s) I've ever had with a non-homeless person. Thomas approached me an excellent,fun, dancing included hat-themed house party on Saturday after the tall, dark and handsome guy I was talking to left for the bathroom.

A word of word recollection of the conversation is completely impossible thanks to the generosity of the hosts of the party, but I defiantly recall his approach. As I'm standing around waiting contemplating finding my friends curly haired, kind of geeky Thomas rolls up and states that if he were as tall and handsome as the guy I'd been talking to I'd be talking to him instead. However, since he wasn't I wouldn't talk to him even though he was a nice guy. Whooaaaa.

I was insulted but found it assuming and told him he was probably correct and I commended him for his honesty. It's hard to damped your mood after you've been given a rose and hand out the petals to confused party goers. Anyway, he chats away about his inferiority's, tells me he's never actually dated anyone and then calls me out of looking over my shoulder for the mystery man. This "nice guy" tells me I'd probably rather be hanging out with other guy and I leave.

Downstairs I find my friends, more booze and the mystery man. Excellent until Thomas comes up to me, interrupts my conversation and starts asking me if I'm happier now that I'm talking to the handsome guy again, what's so wrong with him etc and gives me his business card. He does this while I'm politely telling him he's crossed the line, our conversation is over and he needs to leave. Lesson learned, eloquently put by a friend, "Guys that say they're nice guys are always ass-holes."

The rest of the night was spent flirting, dancing, and lip locking with tall, dark and handsome and breaking my roommates plumed, roman helmet (it's back in the fireplace and you can't tell). Before leaving, t.d.h. asked me if I'd like to go home with him tonight or have him call me later. Drummmmm Rollllll Pleaseeeeee, I said I'd prefer to have him call me later (aka refused a boy I would have actually liked to hang out with). This is officially the nicest way anyone has ever asked me to leave with them, but apparently it's niceness makes it ineffective? Lesson learned: refusing the offer does not equal a phone call, but that means I probably won't have gotten one if I'd accepted. (Please note: I smelt this no call karma coming from a mile away.)

I have switched from being proud of myself to thinking opportunity for fun lost and convincing myself that if I'd gone home with him I'd have gotten mugged, unknowingly filmed, an std or something of that nature. It's still progress on the being responsible front.

DAY 44: I'm ready to jump

Thanks Maddona!!! This song always lights a fire under my tush!!!

Your 20s are definitely hard. Its the time when you have to grow up, have responsibilities and figure shit out. That's a lot to handle. Back in college everything was already laid out for you. Things were somewhat, for the most part, figured out. Go to class, eat, sleep, party, homework, graduate, apply to grad school. The trip was pretty much googled mapped for you. Then you graduate college, then grad school (law school for me) then you step out into the real world. You realize: "Fuck I am gonna have to do what I just learned for the rest of my life." Then you get sad because you really don't wanna do it. If you're like me, you took the sensible route and opted for degrees that would for sure make money, but would not necessarily make you happy. So you grow some ballz and say "you know what, I am not going to be a lawyer." Then your students loans come in and you start freaking out and realize that if you don't become a lawyer you might be fucked financially for a long time. That's no fun either. You're 20 something you are suppose to be having fun. So for about 2 years I bumbled around, scared to jump from the sensible to what I love. Having always taken the sensible route I didn't really take time to discover what I love. I didn't really have a passion. Something I would do anything for, move anywhere for. Don't fret my pets, there is a light at the end of this tunnel.

So the company I worked for laid off shit tons of people. I was one of the lucky few. Very thankful at this moment to still have a job. I am sure my school loan companies are too. At the time of the layoffs I was really sad for my friends that left, happy to still be there, but sad that others in my department were moving on to something bigger, better and that they wanted to do; something they might even have a passion for. I was still stuck tagging shit. Still there is a light at the end of this tunnel.

First came Science, thank you W for taking me to Science cafe. You reminded me that my brain is not mush, there is a reason why I passed the bar the first time and didn't do too shabby in law school; I still have a brain!!!! That was like my little flashlight.

Then came the news that there might possibly be a TV show related to Fashion/ Style at some point, or an opportunity to be some sort of community liaison for style, and my co-worker - who we will call T who really stuck up for me and pushed me and told me if I want it go for it, and prove it!! Um this would most definitely be the really great lighting in the bathroom at ____ movie theater (to be filled in when I can remember the name).

Next came Yves Saint Laurent cocktail party at the de Young museum. At first it was a snooty crowd - really rich wearing diamond badly dressed but wearing really expensive clothes - and I wanted to go home. Then the tour of the exhibit, and I knew I was home. I didn't care if some of the stuff I would never wear, but I loved it all. I could appreciate it all. The hard work, the artistry, the visions. Seeing how fashion repeated it self, the quality of work. YSL = AWESOME!! The only bad part was that I couldn't touch everything / anything. Definitely an exhibit I want to go see again. Then I met a stylist. Which really in and of itself is not that "woo hoo ish." However, because she does what she loves here in SF and she was willing / is willing to talk to me and connect me with others, it is "woo hoo." "So like you mean I could totally like do fashion and TV together, and I totally might could do them both or fashion by itself here ? Like um saweet!!"

So I'm ready jump. It's gonna be a big jump though. I found my passion. Now I have to go for it. Figure out how to get to where I want to be. Also realize that it might take awhile - it took me 2 years alone to figure it out. I have kinda accepted the fact that I am a bit of a late bloomer. The first big step - I am not renewing my license this year - yep going inactive. I don't need a fall back, I am going to succeed and save $400 (for not paying my license dues) cuz I am gonna need it!! I would move anywhere, go anywhere for the opportunity, just for the chance to see what I could really do. They say 27 is gonna be a big year - well my roommate does at least. 27 - 33 your life apparently changes. I hope so, and for the better.

xoxo * S

Day 43: The secret to inner peace

I realized today that, for the first time possibly since I was 13 or so, I'm truly and completely single. Not single in a "I'm not dating anyone but there's this guy I hook up with" kind of way. No "It's complicated" on my Facebook page. I don't even really have a crush on anyone. And, you know, it's pretty darn cool. Boys take up so much time. And even when they're not physically taking up your time, they're making you so sad/angry/anxious that they haven't called that you can't really get anything done.

Now though, the possibilities are endless. I can study really hard, get good grades, and get an amazing government job after graduation (because now that Obama's in office, I'm actually considering working for the goverment!) Or I can not study and go out instead - and since I'm not worried about trying to flirt with/impress anyone, I can flirt with anyone I want! Or not and just dance and have a good time. Of course what I've actually been doing is planning vacations I probably won't end up taking, and shopping. And sipping wine. (For some reason I thought I'd save money by buying a giant magnum-sized bottle of wine instead of a regular one. At the time I must've been contemplating becoming an alcoholic because that is a lot of fucking wine. Not to mention my juice-box wine...)

(These aren't my feet. But they could be. Except for the fugly shoes. And my feet are like four shades darker. Point is, my feet = BIG)

Oh, on the non-boy-related front, I have a new nephew!! I am a reeally bad aunt though because I forgot my sister-in-law was scheduled to have him, and only found out he had been born when I called to apologize to my sister for the birthday card that got returned for lack of postage. Hopefully she won't share this with the family. That brings the grand total to 4: 2 nephews, 2 nieces. And still another sister who's dying to start popping out babies. Which means I can live out my life's dream of being a godless, childless whore who lives a fabulous life in the big city. Because really the only thing stopping me is that I actually really like children, but now I can have them around without ruining my figure or feet. (You know about the feet-growing-during pregnancy thing, right? For someone who's already got size 10.5 - 11 feet, this is a serious concern.)

DAY 42: Written a day late because I'm so busy and fabulous

ONE DATE A WEEK, NEW ORLEANS STYLE

So, us girls decided toward the end of October, on the heels of our self-imposed, ridiculously difficult and mildly successful man sabbatical, that what needed to follow was something nearly opposite. No, not a free-for-all-orgy, but a commitment to one date a week.

I wasted no time. On November 1st, while walking back to my hotel in New Orleans after enjoying free mixed drinks and some really amazing artwork at the P1 opening night, a random dude started a conversation with me on the street. Since I was drunk on happiness and rum, I agreed to let him take me out to dinner, even though he was white.

He walked me through the French Quarter to the Marigney District. We ate Lebanese food. He talked about composing music for NPR. He talked about his ex-girlfriend who used to be Madonna's hair dresser and now designs clothing for Chihuahuas. Whether or not he was telling the truth is questionable, but his stories were entertaining. Ibegan to suspect that he was high on cocaine, but everyone around seemed to know his name and, goddamnit it, I was in New Orleans and not about to go back to my hotel room to watch TV if I didn't have to.

We went to a bar where a band was playing music that reminded me of Triplets of Belleville. I was so enchanted by yummy beer and fond cartoon memories that I let him kiss me. We started walking to another bar. He told me another story about rescuing a man from a young hustler who'd been beating the shit out of him. I took a picture of three black kittens on a New Orleans porch. When we arrived at the bar, he excused himself to the restroom.

Just then, a gorgeous young woman caught my attention and told me to be careful. I asked her why. "I know him," she said. "Once, he held me down and threatened to stab me."

At which point I hailed a cab and returned to my hotel room. Strike one for the month-long-date-a-thon.

Incidentally, this is precisely the reason I don't date white men. They're mildly attractive at best, and I only seem to attract the crazy ones.


SOMETIMES IT TAKES A WHILE TO REALIZE THAT YOU'VE LEARNED A LESSON

I'll admit, I came out of the Man Sabbatical thinking that none of us had learned anything (with the exception, possibly, of W, who learned that she should keep her sheets sand-free.) It took me a few days to realize that, perhaps, we really have learned some valuable lessons after all. Evidence:

1) Since the beginning of the month, I have had several conversations with P, in which 50% or more of the conversation is non-boy related.

2) P finally stood up to The Boy and told him exactly what she thought.

3) Tonight, on my list of things to-do, is cleaning up the phone numbers in my cell. On the list to remove: random club boys, former hook-ups and exes.

4) Last night, when I should have been writing my blog, I was on the phone with W, who told me that she's beginning to lose interest in one night stands.

5) S, W and myself are becoming more serious about non-boy related culture. Earlier this week, we purchased season tickets to the ballet.

6) All of us have expressed the sentiment that this whole "one date a week" thing sounds like it would take entirely too much effort, and would in fact, take away from more fun things we could be doing (like beer at SFMOMA, ladies' night at the shooting range, or retail therapy).

7) When I was at Disneyland, a celebrity kissed me and I didn't even give him my number, since I knew he had a girlfriend already. (What up, Minnie?)

*MJ*

DAy 37: Stimulating the Economy

So I can no longer stimulate the economy alone. Maybe Obama will help with that. Therefore, this week has been a little low key, I suspect the weekend will be pretty much more of the same, minus some fun interludes with the ladies. Quite possibly some Burma Superstar. Which I heard was the bomdizzle. I think I am a bit shopped out, partied out. Recovering from the craziness that was last week. Its my hibernating phase, or my broke ass phase. Waiting for my last purchase of the week to come in the mail. Then I think I am grounded from shopping till I find something else I like and must buy.

That's pretty much it. If something incredible happens between now and later I will most definitely update. In the meantime listen to the sweet song I posted :) Thank co-worker (N) for that!

xoxo * S

Day 36: There's a new man in my life

So to echo what MJ said, OMG! I am so excited for President Obama!!!! I spent the last five days campaigning down in Virginia and it was the greatest experience possibly of my life. I've decided that Obama is the only man I need.

But to recap the last moments of Man Sabbatical Month:
Late last week: Rejection. I think?
I talked to The Boy and basically told him that either we have something like a normal relationship or we just stop this whole "we're just friends except not really" thing. And he told me he couldn't give me an answer. Which I decided was my answer. But that was ok, because I went shopping and bought an awesome Theory suit. Someone told me it made me look like one of Charlie's Angels. So that made it better.

Thursday night: Halloween Party
I won't tell you what I went as because it's only funny to law students (and not even realy then) but it involved wearing a slip. and hot silver heels. Best part was that the Boy with Shampoo Commerical Hair and I decided at some point while pre-partying that he should go as White Guilt, and I should carry around a cane to beat him periodically.

Friday thru Wed. morning: Volunteering in VA and the most awesome Election Day ever!!!
I can't even explain how amazing this experience was. I have never been happier to stand out in the rain for 14 hours. Ask me and I'll tell you stories, but there were so many amazing people - grandmothers, immigrant families, thugs in low-riders, the woman who just had her leg amputated - that I met who turned out to vote. Also, we now have the most attractive President and First Lady - suck it, France!!

Wed. Afternoon - Now: This Place Sucks
I'm currently alternating between post-election high and hating law school and 90% of the people here. This place really does suck your soul away if you let it. We pulled up Wed. afternoon in our van covered with Obama signs, honking and cheering, and everyone just stared. And I've really noticed how sad and stressed and uptight most people here are. All anyone talks about is whether or not they'll be able to get a firm job and make a pile of money this summer. But I'm not going to let it break me down!!! And that goes double for boys - I'm not going to let them make me feel bad about myself or neglect the important things in life. Like friends, shopping, and planning my winter vacation!!!

Oh and I just checked my email and The Boy wants to talk. But you know what? I'm already over it. In fact, I just might say I'm not sure we have anything to talk about...

DAY 35: THE GREATEST DAY IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD

DUE TO THE GREATEST EVENT THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED IN MY LIFETIME, THIS BLOG WILL BE UPDATED A DAY LATE.

THANK YOU, AMERICA, FOR RESTORING MY FAITH IN YOU.

Day 34: Civic Duties are such a distraction

Last night I had the best intentions of writing my reflection blog on the past month, however local propositions A – V and state propositions 1A – 12 got in my way. Reading ballot measures is about as much fun as reading do-it yourself assembly guides.

They guided right to sleep in the living room as I tried to quell my nervousness with the Presidential special SNL (it didn't help, but some vino did). I’m still nervous/distracted/pessimistic. Case in point: I just put my breakfast on the stove and left it to go take a shower.

Mid –shower I remembered I was “cooking” and ran out to find smoking oatmeal. Luckily my roommate had turned the stove off and written a note “Big Flame = burning breakfast.

I’m off to vote and then after work dilute my fears with MJ. EKKKKK

NOVEMBER CHALLENGE

So, we've decided to present ourselves with a new challenge every month. Following the (mildly) successful man sabbatical (we tried and that's what counts!), we've decided we need to do something sort of opposite. No, not sleep with every man we meet on the subway (there's too many ugly ones)- but something terrifying nonetheless.

For the month of November, we are challenged to ask a boy out every week. Well, not quite ask them out, they should do the asking, we are presenting them with a fabulous opportunity :)

Scary.

Wish us luck!

Day 31 (sort of) and then some

So this was a pretty crazy, busy week. It was also sooo much fun, culminating in the event of a life time!!




SALSA TUESDAY!!

Salsa Tuesday was fun. Co-worker and friend (we will call N) finally came out!! We met at new friend Fernando, who became our personal private teacher for salsa and all of our facebook friends. I have decided that we all need to become salsa masters. You never know when you are going to end of at a Mos Def concert, listening to the opening bands, and really needing to salsa. It will come in handy!!


FRIDAY HALLOWEEN

Okay so we didn't get in to L's (that's what we will call her) exclusive Halloween party at 330 Rich. Which is fine. We ended up at Le Colonial which was great (and cheaper than 330 Rich's $60 cover) !! Okay, so there weren't that many cute boys with which to properly break the man sabbatical, but the music was awesome, the cover was fairly cheap and I was with my ladies who were looking flyass. We went as a sexy Sharpie, paperclips and paper. I must say interactive costumes are awesome, and a must from now on on Halloween. I had the greatest excuse to touch up on mens, I was a sharpie I had to draw on them because that is what sharpies do. There were a lot of men that woke up the next morning with hearts drawn on them in various places. I would like to thank a certain paper clip for meeting a frier and getting me a drink. YAY free drinks. YAY 7 and 7s.

I managed to get my butt groped by Gilligan, and someone wearing a Wild Thing / Vaughn costume. You know who you are. I danced with a hairy Uncle Sam (who was Canadian - I never knew). I sexy danced with a Mambo dancer who was Indian but was speaking to me in Spanish, and whom I had my first drunken "I don't know you" kiss on the dance floor. Then he bought me a free water and asked where my friends were and if we could find them - apparently that first kiss was not so great :) He also wasn't THAT cute. Had my next sexy dance and kiss on the dance floor with a Colonial man. That one sucked for me (I think I prefer men with lips) but not that bad I guess because we did it again. Then a very sexy paper clip pulled me away - THANK YOU - apparently I was wearing my beer goggles.

.... and the Shenanigans continued ...

Thinking it was a Lincoln town car driver (professionals driver) but it was not , paper clip and I got in to a car - that was not a Lincoln town car - with some random doods. I threatened to kill them with my umbrella if they tried anything (probably knowing that one probably should not get into cars with strange men). Not too long into the scary drive home the driver and his passenger began arguing about how they should/not make a move on us. Prompting me to ask them to let us out of the car some place in Russian hill, where we came upon a really nice cow, with a very delicious hot dog. This cow was so nice he let me have a bite of his hot dog, offered to call us a cab, and pull on his tit. I love cows. Then three, I think, cute guys pulled up in a Hybrid ( people who drive hybrids are safe and I think it's okay to get in their cars, especially if they are cute). Some how, not sure how it happened they offered us a ride. SAWEET. Hearing that one of the guys had an accent I preceded to do show off my British accent ( thinking he was British). However, he was Australian and imitating British accents to an Australian apparently is offensive, but not that offensive because he still asked for my number. Hope he calls :) They asked us a few times to go to a party with them, but paper clip and I were tired from our Halloween Shenanigans, so they dropped us off SAFELY at home where we crawled in to bed for a short nights sleep - I had to get up the next morning to head to NAPA.

WEDDING DAY SATURDAY

Very cute. My old roomie (J) and his fiance got married. They are by far t he cutest couple ever. It was a Jewishesque wedding. Though there was no Rabbi. My roomies' best friend married them, his brother and another friend did the Jewish blessings. The bride looked radiant. Very small, very cute. The guests were all older white people in their late 30s or 4os. We (me and my guest /friend / DA ) sat at the "singles" table - aka the table with the only 3 single men in the room. One of which I thought had cancer because he was so frail and pale. The other had an earring - white guys with earrings so 90s, so not cute. He wasn't bad looking, he was just kinda boring and lame. The other single guy was gay. He was fabulous. Well he would have been but for him thinking that Meredith and Cristina, on Greys Anatomy, were hot. Um no! Yet again, me and DA were the lesbians at the wedding. We always are. NO on Prop 8! Slow dancing on the floor together, making up dances, cuz we are kinda lame and didn't really socialize with all the old people at the wedding. Kinda tried to dance with the white dood with the earring but he couldn't really dance - white man's over bite city. DA and I were probably the youngest and most "colorful" people there, and the only pole dancers - that's how J introduced us. "These are my old roommates - they are pole dancers." Thanks J for the sweet intro!!

MADONNA

Hell yes. It was by far the coolest concert ever in the history of time, and I got to share it with my BFF. WOOP WOOP. No one opened for her. She was so entertaining. Now I truly understand why she is an icon. Could not take my eyes of the stage. Yeah the tickets were pricey but soooo worth it. She sang live - which was awesome. She sang oldies but goodies, new stuff mashed with old stuff, latin stuff, her song from the musical she did (Eva?), danced on a piano, booty shaking, cussing, Obama campaigning, called us bitches and muther fuckers, rocked out on her guitar. I so did not want it to end. She played for almost two hours. OMG. Entertaining from top to bottom. I would have gladly paid shit tons for closer seats. I have to see Madonna again. WOOO!!

Okay so that's my weekend.

xoxo -
*S