Cotton candy
V.M. said I made his favorites list. I daren't abuse such a privilege.
I went to a house party last night catered and sponsored my co-worker & her girlfriend. I had a great time. I'm not saying it would have required a lot last night... I had a beer at lunch and two drinks pre-party. The wine at the actual party just put me over the top. I considered myself incredibly witty and engaging, which probably means I was drunkenly stumbling across the room whilst mumbling something incomprehensible about the Seventh Circuit.
Well, it was fun, but not that fun. Something was missing. Or maybe too much was there. The party was at one of the new high-rises downtown, and the decor was definitely pretentious chic. I feel we were angling to match--too much "oh, we're so friggin clever" talk all evening. I think it's the insecurity that breeds with co-workers that only know each other kind-of well. Not full-fledged dead-on friends, but acquaintances. I'm looking to get past that, methinks.
Afterwards, the remaining six (sans roommate/bf and co-worker/gf) went to Fuse, this restaurant/nightclub/bar with a pretty happening patio. Again, I could appreciate it, but it was just a little too Dallas-y, too pretentious, too I-want-to-be-something-else. But lots of slutty-looking girls, so hey, can't be too bad. What lead us to Fuse, you ask? Inertia, and an unwillingness to admit that, yes, the night really was over for us, even though it was only 1130ish. We should have given up. But we powered on to Fuse, and pretended to have a good time. We drank beer, forced out more conversation, pretended to enjoy the surrounding buildings, celebrated more of said cleverness.
Yes, lame, but who wants to be the one to leave first? Not I, my friends, not I.
Of course, considering my ideal night is at some wood-paneled bar with low music and cheap beer, perhaps I'm the one that needs changing, not Dallas. Whatever.
I went to a house party last night catered and sponsored my co-worker & her girlfriend. I had a great time. I'm not saying it would have required a lot last night... I had a beer at lunch and two drinks pre-party. The wine at the actual party just put me over the top. I considered myself incredibly witty and engaging, which probably means I was drunkenly stumbling across the room whilst mumbling something incomprehensible about the Seventh Circuit.
Well, it was fun, but not that fun. Something was missing. Or maybe too much was there. The party was at one of the new high-rises downtown, and the decor was definitely pretentious chic. I feel we were angling to match--too much "oh, we're so friggin clever" talk all evening. I think it's the insecurity that breeds with co-workers that only know each other kind-of well. Not full-fledged dead-on friends, but acquaintances. I'm looking to get past that, methinks.
Afterwards, the remaining six (sans roommate/bf and co-worker/gf) went to Fuse, this restaurant/nightclub/bar with a pretty happening patio. Again, I could appreciate it, but it was just a little too Dallas-y, too pretentious, too I-want-to-be-something-else. But lots of slutty-looking girls, so hey, can't be too bad. What lead us to Fuse, you ask? Inertia, and an unwillingness to admit that, yes, the night really was over for us, even though it was only 1130ish. We should have given up. But we powered on to Fuse, and pretended to have a good time. We drank beer, forced out more conversation, pretended to enjoy the surrounding buildings, celebrated more of said cleverness.
Yes, lame, but who wants to be the one to leave first? Not I, my friends, not I.
Of course, considering my ideal night is at some wood-paneled bar with low music and cheap beer, perhaps I'm the one that needs changing, not Dallas. Whatever.
posted by Mahatma at 9:59 AM
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