June 8, 2007

on the joy divey clubs...

I went out with M and a bunch of her highschool friends last night. Now, originally I was a bit hestiant on going, just because it's all of her friends, and I don't really know any of them v. well. (She has seriously the largest group of friends back from her highschool days - and they all still keep in touch. I always wonder what that would be like - considering I was homeschooled...yes, homeschooled - and sometimes I really wish I had a big core group of friends full of memories and stories and all that good stuff.) But, anyway, all of her friends are so sweet. They're the type of people to always shove you back into a photo, even if you don't think you belong. They're v. wecoming, and it makes me happy. (And, of course, Perfect Girl was there in attendance. For the love of all things holy, does she have a flaw? Anyone? And awkward birthmark, an extra toe, perhaps? Give me something here, to make me feel like less of a schlub next to her. Please.) We went to a club-type-thing, which is always fun. (It was in a hotel. Which...I don't really get because if there was anyone in any of the rooms, I'm not sure they could have slept through the mayhem.) There was a live band that sang cover songs, which was absolutely amazing. We spent the next several hours just dancing around and becoming a hot mess in the process. (Not that it had any effect whatsoever on Perfect Girl. Damn her and her radiance.) My hair doesn't function properly under those circumstances and becomes a mass of curls in the front and frizz in the back. Luckily, I'm married and wasn't looking for any fine young men to impress! Another perk to matrimony - ole! Yeah. So, I enjoyed a Tokyo Tea (or so they tell me; you can never really hear a word anyone is saying in places like that, and you really have to base a conversation on your ability - or inability- to lip-read) and laughed at the crazy people, and hoochie girls who were really impressing nobody but the creepy guys leaning against the bar. There was a couple dancing in a dark corner and we were pretty sure they were minutes away from "sealing the deal", if I may, so I thought I'd take a picture with them. You know, just for kicks and giggles. We can only hope that a poor, illegitimate child does not result from their, er, dancing. It's a lovely photo, anyway, is it not? Ah, young love/lust.

It was a good night, all in all. I'm really glad I went. I wish her friends were all in town more (most of them have been traveling abroad with college - um, jealousy anyone? - and/or go to school in a different state or part of CA). It feels nice to be welcomed into a group who hardly knows you, and it's nice to be able to have fun with people who you pretty much just meet.

I got to see M's new place. I hate feeling jealous, when I should just be happy for her and not think of myself, but it's difficult sometimes. The thing is, she deserves it, and I'm v. glad that she finally has her own adorable, perfect, flawless, amazingly decorated, newly built, complete with all new appliances, floors and fixtures, cheap(er) rent thanks to her dad, place. Okay, I'm fixating again. Must. Stop. Fixating. I'm sure that one of these days J and I won't be living in a place surrounded by people who don't speak English (I'm not racist, just stating a fact - you're welcome to stop by if you don't believe me), where hair is painted into our walls (because that's not disgusting), where our ceiling and windows leak no matter how many times someone comes to "fix" them, where we can't even paint the walls the colors I want, where I haven't even taken a bath in over a year because the state of the bathtup is beyond any type of bleach, where rent is nearly $1000 for a 1-bedroom apartment. Meh. I should be thankful, and I am (in a way), but I'm very eager to find something new. Soon. Too bad the husband is so darn content. He could live under a bridge and probably be okay. (Did that come out sounding mean? What I mean to say, is that he is just the type of guy to be thankful to have a place to stay, that he can call home, where he can put his stuff. I wish I could be that content.)

So, yet another day off has begun with entirely too much internet time. What have I become?

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