Friday, March 23, 2007

while you were out ...

make no confusion about what i am about to tell you: i'm going out. tonight. in public. i will begin said night with clean hair and fresh breath. if i remember i'll wear deoderant and if i don't remember, eh ... you won't be able to tell the difference as i'm not really one of those bar perspirers that you typically try to avoid.

i'm going to wear a shirt i found recently at the gap. i liked it so i traded the employee the navy blue henley-like piece for my $9.99. because not only do i want to go out, i want to go out in a new shirt. one that has never experienced disappointment or coffee stains. defeat or accidental bleach. one that creates an illusion of taking six pounds off one body part and redirects it to my chest. there will be a bra. one that is scientifically designed to shoot my breasts to the moon.

but i'm going to wear my new shirt with unfashionably ripped jeans. i welcome adversity in my attire. and it feels like that kind of night.

i will have no fewer than two drinks; no more than five. ish. fiveish. my car keys tucked into the palm of the first person i see holding 12 ounces of water, frequently and boredly refilling with a desire that matches my own. the desire for a blemishless urinary tract and a safe ride home.

i am going to coo and love you. there will be hugs and head nuggies and pecks (with tongue). for each person at the pio tonight will be my "best friend" and i will say it with geniune tears spitting out of my eyes and a front tooth chipped by a 5 pound mug. i would like to embrace you clumsily and let you sway me to "purple rain."

i'm not going to play darts. or pool. or eat popcorn or pickled anything. if there was karoake, i'd sing it (for SURE!) but i bet there isn't, so i will just screech along to the juke box and finally find my falsetto.

i will crumple. bank on it. i'll let jcrew hold my hair and bubbles can hold my purse, or vice versa. i will let chuck hold my person (freakishly strong) and direct me toward the door when he begins to notice that my every sentence inspires eye rolling from even the least judgemental of revellers.

today is your thursday. today is my monday, but kind of like my friday. and like is good enough for me.

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