5. Triple Date.
This week, in order to inspire me to get back to work on my own One Woman Show, I saw two very funny ladies perform their shows at the UCB. Instead of going by myself and drinking alone in the back row, I decided to try and make an event of it and invite some friends. As it turns out, none of my single friends could make it so I turned into Couples Night. I dragged along MD-BF and two of my very best hags (Jeannie and Beta) who brought their BFs (Adam1 and Adam2.) After the show we all went over to the Trailer Park Lounge for margaritas, tater tots and sweet potato fries. Beta, MD-BF and I entered Swingtown by having a threesome over a Lover’s Concerto. (Imagine a small fountain filled with slushy strawberry margarita heaven, and add three straws.)
6. My Upcoming B’Day.
I’ve decided against having a split Housewarming/B’Day party this year, as 1.) Jeannie, Adam and I have been dragging our asses and have yet to decorate the Living Room. (We haven’t even made time to sit down and discuss what the phrase “too much kitsch” means to everyone.) And 2.) I don’t want to ask people to trek all the way out to the ghetto of Brooklyn. (My neighborhood isn’t actually that bad. But when it’s 3am and you’re the only white person walking back to the subway and you’re drunk out of your mind… you might start to think otherwise.)
I’ve also ruled out a birthday dinner. I hate asking all of my friends to pick up my portion of the tab (where the amount each person owes is almost as high as my age), especially since in every circle of friends there’s always that one person who never forks over enough money. It happens at every birthday dinner I’ve ever been too… do all my friends have the same cheap friend? Or are we all being collectively cheap?
This year, in order to save that one kind friend who always ends up having to pony up the extra cash, I’ve decided to just hang out at a bar for a few hours this year. That way there’s no tab, and not everyone has to spend money on me. Unless of course only five people show up. If that’s the case, you’re all buying me a drink. I’ve decided 5 drinks is the minimum one should have on their birthday. 5 should probably also be the maximum. Unless the bartender is making weak drinks. If the drinks are weak, it’s okay to double your maximum number.
Now that the rules are all set… it’s time to pick a suitable bar for me to turn 29 at. Last night MD-BF and I researched two. Both are by his apartment, which is ideal because after 10 weak drinks, I would rather try and walk the alcohol off for a few blocks then endure a bumpy cab ride back to Brooklyn.
Bar #1 (Disiac) had a lovely backyard patio with pillows all over the floor, which will be helpful in case I get fall-over-drunk. However, the vibe was a little shi-shi, and I don’t want to ask my poor friends to nurse one drink all night long. Bar #2 (Bar 9) definitely gave off that dive bar feel (which is a plus in my book.) They had a jute box and couches in the back, which is nice, but the couches are under a roof. I guess I just have to decide what’s more important to me: Fresh air and higher prices? Or stale air and lower prices?
7. Project Runway.

Best. Episode. Ever?

My only disappointment was that my beloved Terri was robbed of winning the challenge yet again.

Fierce.













































