La. La. La.

Went out last weekend in downtown chi-town... after 6 drinks got buzzed. I've got the liver of a horse. Hell. I have no idea if they've got good livers. Let's just say it's analogous to the stomach of a cow. It can handle anything.

Anyway, flirted like crazy with a dude who reminded me soooooo much of the King of Cuteness himself (Bwoy). Except he wasn't as cool. And except I didn't flirt with him that much. It was more like he kept flirting with me (seriously!). Of course, this was all until I found out from my friend that he was MARRIED. Hmmm, I wonder why he never mentioned that to me. blech. Hold on, did I just call Bwoy the King of Cuteness? Oy vey.

Eventually I stopped wasting my time flirting with married men and proceeded to my real love, Karaoke! Like many other things in my life, I suck at singing. My voice is not something you'd want to hear even in a Turkish bath. What makes it worse, however, it my attempts to make it all breathy and sexy like Norah Jones-- I just end up sounding like I've got a terribly bad cold and need some cough syrup pronto. Quite the opposite effect. Fortunately, I have a very flexible body when I dance, so I like to twist in strange dance moves whilst I croon, hoping that it will at least make me look partway sexy. I have no idea if it works-- people stare, but I can't tell if they're smiling because I look good, or they're just laughing at me. Or they could just be pained, startled smiles of people being forced to acknowledge white noise.

Ahhhh mis amigos y amigas. Being out at night does weird narcissitic things to a girl-- despite my wise twenty somethin years and complaints otherwise, I still like being the center of attention, shaking my groove and screaming in my hoarse voice.


p.s. I think the fact that Bwoy is not living here has opened my eyes to all the male attention around me. Startling. Sigh. He needs to come here. Now. I'm growing horns!!! ;)