Sunday, January 18, 2009

Good Day...I Said Good Day.

Last night was was my roommate's birthday party. This was the plan, I'd look like this (uh, sorry about the flash and the dirt on my mirror, I can't have hair like Jennifer Beals circa 1983 and take good photographs, you know?):

And then we'd go to the club that Roomie had reserved a table at and dance and talk and party and then I'd leave at like 10:30 because the club was in the city and I could take a tram home. Of course only leaving after meeting the guy that roomie wanted to set me up with who she declared him my perfect match because he was Caucasian (apparently that fact that we have the same skin tone makes us totally compatible - I'd never heard that theory before but I am taking it with a grain of salt because this is the same girl that prefers bubble wrap to a sponge). EASY.

The only thing about that plan that happened is I did in fact look like that - and was promptly way overdressed.

1. They wouldn't let the roommate's friends into the club and gave no reasons for excluding them. So, we had to leave the convenient location for me to catch a tram home. So, I feel bad for ditching after only being out for 20 minutes and that I must accompany birthday girl to new location...

2. We arrive at another club in the Docklands about 20 minutes before the trams will stop for the night. This club is sponsoring a dj competition where the 'groovalicious' dj will win $50 voucher to help their dj career. WOW. J Funk and DJ Fresh brought the heat. J Funk was clearly better. White boy doesn't show.

3. We met this girl who could pop like no other and she danced with us for a while

4. Which completed our circle of awkward because one of roommate's friends only danced with his eyes closed and his head lolling from one side to another. If you are picturing some kind of chimpanzee gorilla dancing while asleep you'll get the partial effect of this particular absurdity.

5. Roommate saw a 'cute' guy flicked her hair and strutted over to him. This is how I imagine the conversation going "it's my birthday, lets make out" "k." Face sucking ensued.

6. Still dancing with Gorilla/chimpanzee man and mad popper girl when a man with a striking resemblance to humpity dumpity starts rapping over the dj's choice of songs. No one knows what he is doing and when begins to beat box and sing along with a mic in hand while wondering around the dance fall I truly get concerned that he damaged his head permanently with the fall off the wall I've always said you can't trust the King's Men.

7. Popper girl leaves and I'd desperately like to follow suit.

8. This girl and I discuss getting cab home together she says after the next song. and hour and half hour LATER I arrive home - cranky and pissed off.

9. I am too cranky to go to bed so I watch two episodes of That 70s Show on youtube.


  1. I must confesss, nights like the one you decribe, are ones I do not miss from my youth. Husband, three kids and a dog... good day.

    I still like your hair and your red top/dress is smokin'! ;-)

  2. Well thank you! I enjoy both the hair and dress also :)

    And I am not too fond of these nights either.