So you say it’s your birthday.
Sigh, I am 20. I don’t know the hour of my birth, I am not a person who ever really cared about that. I have a day, and I feel like if I tried to know the exact the time I would always wind up being late to celebrate it. This weekend has been intense. I have the sniffles and it’s a good feeling…the occasional swallowing of my own mucus reminds me of the fun that has occurred. Thursday: I invite a couple people out for drinks in the east village. Conc and Tim my two close friends. And some people I am hoping will become close friends. It was pretty cool; I got drunk, like a freshmen girl at a senior party. Which isn’t me, I’m not a drinker, but every now and then, I like not being me. This skin fits so well I forget there are others out there to try. Friday was insane. Tony invited me to plan his Birthday party (he is on the 28th). So we all went out the elephant, a French and Thai fusion restaurant (read: fancy pants only, please). Then off to LIT, this fucking great bar in the east village, nice mix of pop/hip-hop/and some old fashioned techno. I pre-occupied myself with dancing, which I haven’t done in a long while. There is nothing quiet so fun as finding a common groove with the music and being surrounded by friends. It was about 2 when we left, I dragged everyone down to FauxHo (my term for the east side of SoHo). Some nice bars, we hung out in this one that was playing amped up 70’s love songs. Nice couches and the wallpaper was rainforest pictures plastered on the back of it. The night ended at last call (4am) Conc and I grabbed a cab back, he dropped me off, and I got the pleasure of walking short distance in the rain. I love those moments. Nothing feels so real, as moments spent getting wet while walking home. Anyway…it’s just been a great weekend. Flogthrob gave me the “bottoming book” which is proving to be a very good read. We were supposed to play,b but I screwed things up, I didn’t have him e-mail my Sirs, and forget to give them his address… they gave me permission to play but I felt icky about the whole thing, so it dampened me. I hate being a wet blanket, but I think Flogthrob understood why. At least, I hope so. And Sir and Daddybear called me this morning to wish me a happy birthday. great way to wake up. and then fall back a sleep to, with them fresh inside my head.
- posted by G @ 5:09 PM