The day is cruel

I'm trying not to count all the things that went wrong today. A coincidental collision of small misfortunate events all seemed to meet in one day.

To quote James Bond though: I'll live to die another day....

law students + 80's music + costumes = best halloween party ever!

(above: the Candid shot)


Ever walk around Capitol hill in heels and fishnet stalkings at 9 pm? Yeah, so NOT a good idea.....

But I made it safely to Waid's in my pirate outfit without trouble from any landlubbers. When I got there, however, I did get harrassed by Peter Pan....


There were a couple things that I could not figure out throughout the night:

1. why did the party hosts post pictures of starving third world children all over the walls? Kinda puts a solemn and guilty damper on the whole affair-- until malibu shot #2 kicked in....

2. Why didn't I request "Sexyback" by Justin Timberlake more than once??? I totally should have.

3. Who was the random guy who passed out on his stomache in the balcony's "pillow room" with his face hanging over the railing?

4. It was 80's themed, but I didn't see a single Michael Jackson!

All that aside, there was plenty of dancing and drinking! I wish I could be a pirate everyday...... ARG!

I have no IDea.

Last weekend: after a blurry weekend, my driver's license (perhaps ashamed to be an identifier of me) decides to go missing.

Thursday: It is not until I am standing in the entrance to the local bar/pool room/bowling alley for a law school happy hour that I finaly realize my ID has been missing for days (really, what else would I use it for?). I count back the number of places it could be while I try to explain to the short, teenage-looking bouncer that I am, in fact, over 21. Not only do I feel ridiculously ashamed, but I realize my worst fear from my undergrad days is actually springing to life. I figure this is kharma for those few, not-so-legal, good time's at Hamilton's in Chicago.

My friends wave their sympathy from the inside of the bar while I return to campus alone...to study.

Saturday: I come to terms that my driver's license is taking a permanent leave of absence from my possession. Ah ha! Not to fear, my drinking adventures are NOT in jeopardy! I grab my dusty passport from my top dresser drawer-- behind a pile of neglected and unrotated undergarments.

You know, they really should make passports just for bar hoppers. The multiple stamps would always allow you to track your evening the sobering next morning.

Social norms gone bad on public transportation

(Comic from: toothpastefordinner.com)

Every day I meet weird people through the wonder that is public transportation.

sometimes i would give anything to hear someone's story. sometimes i would give a dollar. sometimes I would give anything to make someone shut up.

Like the crazy lady from south dakota who wore sweats smelling of syringes and hospital bedcloth, she asked me what month it was because she had been in the hospital forever-- apparently too busy having seizures to wash herself. She sat next to me and asked me if I knew someone with an extra mobile home she could "borrow"..... I felt a shiver of sympathy run through my body, and I felt a wave of coldness just thinking of a social system that pushes its members to the fringes of despair-- but the pain of her smell overrode both and I silently thanked god when she pulled the bus stop cord.

Then there is the obesely overweight man whose backpack looks like a mini chimp the way it is strapped to his abnormally giant shoulders. Hanging from his backpack is always a large pink keychain that says "crazy women walkers". Maybe he's crazy but he's not a woman and I'm pretty sure he's not much of a walker/exerciser. I see him everyday and must painfully refrain from snipping the keychain off his back.

There is also cowboy hat dude. I feel sorry for anyone who's wardrobe centers around an article of clothing that has been out of fashion for over 100 years. In an age of instant technology. . .how could he have not gotten the message?

Rum in the Tum

I love Malibu Coconut Rum. It is perhaps the only reason I was able to stomach scene after scene of extreme inappropriateness and stupidity (a.k.a. "Jackass Number Two") on the big screen of a theater.

The start of the evening, however, was an excellent, wussied down, real life warm up for the stunts in the film. Before the show, we met some friends at a dunky bar in Bremerton, where the manly waitresses wore referee t-shirts. While my friends all shared a pitcher of Rainier Beer, I decided to be a little "edgy". Using the beer glass offered to me by the waitress, I played a game I like to call.....duh, duh, duh.......the SWITCH.

To the horror of my boyfriend, who feared the worst (I would like to think he was worried about me getting into trouble, but looking back I'm pretty sure he was worried about getting ex-communicated from his favorite bar), I pulled a bottle of Malibu from my (very large) purse, poured some into my beer glass under the table, and set the glass back on the table proudly.

After a couple shots (hard to tell when it's in a beer glass :) ), I was finally prepared to handle Jackass. What I didn't finish, my boyfriend made me pour out on the carpet so the waitress wouldn't wonder why my beer cup held clear liquid.....

Can I just say that I am scoring some major points in Girlfriend Heaven for having seen both Snakes on a Plane AND Jackass Number Two this year??