Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Canned Heat in my Heels

I had a great birthday weekend: presents were received, dancing was done, champagne was consumed, and fun in general was had.

Clubbing on Friday night was a rather interesting experience. I had somewhat forgotten what the club scene was like, as I hadn't been out dancing in a while. It was a little.... raunchier than when I went last (and it's not like the last time I went was 15 years ago, I'm talking like a year or so).

I like going clubbing every now and then because I go for the dancing and music: I like to be able to let loose on the dance floor and have fun with my friends. I don't go to scam for guys and one night stands, that's so not my thing - and might I add ewww!

A lot of the girls are barely dressed, and what they're wearing hardly covers their nipples and hooha-area. Not to mention the fact that there was at least 3 girls who got up on various podiums and started stripping and flashing for guys with cameras. It's absolutely disgusting.

A lot of the guys are creepy and greasy: I had my ass slapped by some jerk as I was walking off the dance floor. I got so annoyed that I turned around and smacked him right back with a swift backhand to the shoulder (the only body part that I could reach as I made for a quick get-a-way).

The dancefloor gets really packed and people just end up pushing you all over the place. It gets all hot and sweaty and just generally gross.

So while it's fun to get out and dance it up, sometimes the club scene can be just icky.

Then again, last night I went to a Retro music night at a near by bar/club. It's a smaller venue and more of a bar than a club - the music was great, from Billie Jean to Sweet Home Alabama to even Ghostbusters. The guys were much less creepy and the girls decidedly less skanky. Plus, it was 7$ pitcher night.

It generally depends where you go, what you're expecting from the night, and how much you've had to drink. There's one universal constant, however: wearing high heels for a night out dancing always leads to a very slow, unbalanced, and painful walk home.

Ahh, the price I will pay for cute shoes!

Friday, June 23, 2006

A Day for Champagne

23 on the 23rd - my champagne birthday.

Today I've already been afforded a few little surprising moments:

Jon (my boyfriend) is coincidently leaving for Europe today for a month. He has a physics conference in Budapest, and a 2 week summer course in cosmology in Trieste, Italy. Fully paid, may I add - lucky bastard. It kinda sucks that he's leaving on my birthday. I also am leaving before he gets back, so we won't be seeing each other for about 6 weeks.

I'm surprised because I realized I'm going to miss him and I'm actually a bit sad. heh. This is surprising to me because we haven't been seeing each other for that long, and we don't have what I'd call a "deep connection".

I'm surprised because he actually bought me a birthday present. And a good birthday present: stuff from Lush. This is surprising because it's sweet, means he actually listened when I went on and on about the damn place, and he really hates the smell of the store - so him actually going and asking the sales girls what to get me is a pretty big deal.

I'm surprised because I've received a few emails from some people I totally didn't expect to remember/care about my birthday. It's nice.

I'm surprised because MC is actually letting me drag her out clubbing tonight, whoo!

It's nice to be surprised sometimes, especially when it's good surprises. Turns out I have nothing to complain about today: my boyfriend and I like each other more than I thought we did, expected and unexpected people care about me, I have things to look forward to, and it's not disgustingly humid outside!

Who knows, maybe I'll even grace you all with a drunken blog post at some point this weekend :D

Listening to: Good Day - Jewel

Thursday, June 15, 2006

A Pat on the Head

I'm not typically one to sit around and over-analyze things other people say/do. Granted, I will often scrutinize my own behaviours and thought processes, but I generally try not to over-think what comes from external sources.

It's impossible to never over-interpret other peoples actions - but we can make an attempt to not place our own anxieties/fears/annoyances on other people and interpret their actions accordingly. Sometimes there really is no deeper meaning, and a comment made or action done really is what it appears to be at face value.

But okay, let's get real. What 20-something (23 on the 23rd, people!) city girl out in the dating scene is never going to wonder about the meaning of some things?!

So my boyfriend comes over the other night for dinner - which I willingly cook. I even went out and bought some of the incredients (double cream brie and fresh basil to add to diced tomatoes in olive oil and garlic over pasta). He compliments me on my cooking and generally enjoys the meal. Afterwards we have some coffee/tea and sit down to watch Jeapordy. Everything's fine, relaxing evening after a good meal and a long day. Good good.

So. As he's getting ready to leave, we're both standing next to my door talking about what we're going to do over the weekend. This is when it happens:

As he's saying goodbye, he reaches over and pats me on the head.


What the fucking hell is that about?! I mean, a kiss on the cheek/lips or even a hug would have been a far more appropriate parting - and even expected. I cooked him dinner for chrissake, and he PATS ME ON THE HEAD??

I don't even know what to do with that, besides laugh and wonder what the fuck is wrong with men. Seriously, what's going through the head of a man who pats his girlfriend on the head after she cooks him dinner?! Part of me wants to ask him, and part of me is ready to accept the fact that he's just kinda dense.

A dense man, you say? Inconceivable!

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Still Alive, Robbed, and Cranky

No, I haven't died or fell off the face of the earth. I especially haven't died while falling off the face of the earth.

I haven't posted recently because of a rather annoying and worrisome incident: my laptop was stolen. Over the May long weekend, someone broke into my apartment when I was away and swiped my computer. Luckily, it was the only thing they took and there was no damage done to my place. I hadn't locked the windows when I left, not having had problems before and I suppose I became accustomed to not thinking about it, so my guess is they came in through the fire escape at the window.

I've just recently received the new laptop, and I'm busy trying to reinstall everything to the way I had it before. It's such a hassle and it's been very frustrating, but luckily I had all my important files saved elsewhere so I didn't lose anything vital.

Overall, it could have been much worse. I'm thankful that it wasn't, but I'm also supremo pissed off to have to be going through all this in the first place.

Because of the break in, I've decided that I'm going to move out into a better and quieter area nearby. My Dad and I saw the apartment I found today, it's quite nice - much bigger than my current apartment, it has a balcony, and the building is gorgeous and very secure. It's a high rise building run by a company, so everything is pretty (all marble lobby, nice elevators) and it even has a pool/sauna, 10th floor terrace, and a breakfast restaurant area. Plus there's cameras in the lobby and elevators and you need a scan card to access the building. Best of all, the rent is actually reasonable.

I suppose something good has come out of the whole situation, but I'm still cranky about it! Then again, being a raging bitch is all part of my personal mystique.