4.17.2005
Frat Boys and Tiny Beers
Went to the Scottsdale Culinary Festival yesterday with J & Pals. It was hot, sweaty, boozy and overall, ridiculi. Upon entering the beer garden - and let me point out, this was the "culinary" festival, but not a bite was eaten by anyone in our 25-strong group - they award you with a tiny, tiny little beer mug. Like a Barbie mug. This thing was small. It must hold about an ounce. Then you wander from tent to tent, "sampling" the beers supposedly. But what you're really doing is filling them up with free swigs until someone announces they have to take tickets, so it's like this hot, sticky, shoulder-to-shoulder press through guys in shorts and flip flops and girls in short hippie skirts (I was in a long hippie skirt - such the old woman) to the next free filling station.
I met a few boys - all of them too young - none of them too intelligent. I wish I wasn't so picky b/c one was totally hot in a Vin Diesel way and I could tell he was hot for old-woman flesh. :)
And J's guy friends were hilarious and smart and we totally hit it off - two of them even hit on me - and though I know I should embrace that vibe, the problem was that I didn't see myself embracing them. Found out this morning that the one who really liked me has a reputation for being an "unforgettable, unregrettable" hookup, but he had small feet. I just don't see it happening.
Anyhoo, so YEAH I'm going to Portland June 1. hOLY ShITE. My friend S has agreed to rent my house which is so wonderful b/c:
A) no searching for renters who won't turn my house into a crack den
B) no lease! no credit check!
C) I love my house and feel so happy to have a good friend in it
D) her appropriation of it in seven short weeks gives me no excuses for not vacating! The girl will squat if she has to. she's a squatter. hahah.
I have a job interview lined up for the week of June 6, so now all I need is the Puppy's help to get me a loan, to find an apartment in Portland, and to hire a moving company. Pshaw! Next to nothing to worry about! But I'm so freakin excited that it seems like an adventure - not like work.
I was telling S the other day that I'd love to open a bar in Portland called the Lucky Lady. (It's irony, people, b/c it's not that I have bad luck, it's that I have no luck whatsoever.) Anyhoo, the Lucky Lady will be a semi-dark joint with hot pink vinyl booths, xmas lights year-round and an all-indie jukebox. Except for some Zep. I'll always have a fresh pitcher of mai tais at the ready as it will be the Lucky Lady's signature drink, and a jar of pickles on the counter. My bartender will pour strong drinks and I'll smoke cigarettes with the regulars on Saturday nights. This is my dream.
I met a few boys - all of them too young - none of them too intelligent. I wish I wasn't so picky b/c one was totally hot in a Vin Diesel way and I could tell he was hot for old-woman flesh. :)
And J's guy friends were hilarious and smart and we totally hit it off - two of them even hit on me - and though I know I should embrace that vibe, the problem was that I didn't see myself embracing them. Found out this morning that the one who really liked me has a reputation for being an "unforgettable, unregrettable" hookup, but he had small feet. I just don't see it happening.
Anyhoo, so YEAH I'm going to Portland June 1. hOLY ShITE. My friend S has agreed to rent my house which is so wonderful b/c:
A) no searching for renters who won't turn my house into a crack den
B) no lease! no credit check!
C) I love my house and feel so happy to have a good friend in it
D) her appropriation of it in seven short weeks gives me no excuses for not vacating! The girl will squat if she has to. she's a squatter. hahah.
I have a job interview lined up for the week of June 6, so now all I need is the Puppy's help to get me a loan, to find an apartment in Portland, and to hire a moving company. Pshaw! Next to nothing to worry about! But I'm so freakin excited that it seems like an adventure - not like work.
I was telling S the other day that I'd love to open a bar in Portland called the Lucky Lady. (It's irony, people, b/c it's not that I have bad luck, it's that I have no luck whatsoever.) Anyhoo, the Lucky Lady will be a semi-dark joint with hot pink vinyl booths, xmas lights year-round and an all-indie jukebox. Except for some Zep. I'll always have a fresh pitcher of mai tais at the ready as it will be the Lucky Lady's signature drink, and a jar of pickles on the counter. My bartender will pour strong drinks and I'll smoke cigarettes with the regulars on Saturday nights. This is my dream.
