Last night my whole posse and I went to THITWbar. And I use posse because it was an incredible amount of people: Nina, Heather, her husband Ricky, Chelle, Ml, Ryan, Keith,Tasha and her husband and myself...ok well it felt like a lot of people. I think there were more than that, but anyway, I digress. Of course, my main man was working, and of course, I didn't speak to him--because I'm obeying the dating laws of seventh grade. "Ignore him, he will come." So far it really hasn't done much for me except for the fact that the both of us catch each other casting furtive glances at each other. I like the fact that he sneaks looks at me...I don't like the fact that I always get caught gazing at him with love in my eyes. What's a girl to do? Probably give up and pursue someone who does like her. Really? Who does that? Next week I will try the laws of sixth grade dating,"Kick the boy in the shins if you like him. If he pulls my pigtails, it's almost a certainty that he is also enamoured with me." I think this is the best approach effort yet--plus I'll be sporting pigtails at the bar, so that will be equally fun.
So anyway, Heather's husband decided to go home, the rest of the crew left as well and we were down to the hard core drinkers: Nina, Heather, Chelle, Ml and myself. We boozed with the best of them. Soco and lime (southern comfort and lime) was the name of the game for the evening. Shots, shots and more shots.
My plan of not speaking to Drk disintergrates quickly as I continue down my drunken path, this is obvious because beneath this post I apparently asked Drk to take his shirt off so I could take a picture of his back (I know I'm a moron, moving on). Now Heather...that's another story. She corners Drk and demands an answer, "Why won't you fuck my friend Melina?" or something equally mortifying. I don't hear his response because my ears have fallen off after hearing what Heather has asked him. I love her, she has lost her social filter for the evening. Heather comes back triumphant, "He's just not into the casual sex thing." I could've left it at that, but did I? Of course not. Drk breezes by, now unfazed by anything because he's been harassed, poked, prodded and humanly debased by me on a daily basis, and I yell over the music (Kickstart My Heart, courtesy of Motley Crue) "It doesn't have to be casual, we can have sex all the time...and plus I love you!" Ok, I didn't actually say that but I almost did but luckily, I wasn't as drunk as usual and my embarassment filter was still intact.
Chelle and Ml branched off and were talking to some random men at the end of the bar and some guy kept yelling at me to come down to the end of the bar, and he yelled other things too...like, "Wanna make out?" and I think he told Chelle that he wanted to "bang" me or something odd like that. I kindly yelled back (notice this was a night of yelling across the bar), "No thanks, I'm in love with the cook!" or something stupid like that. Before I left the bar, Jack the bartender tells me, "Melina, I'm proud of you! You've held it together all night." That's when you know that you're an asshole, when the bartender compliments you on your drunkeness.
Somehow Chelle and I decided to go to a party after the bar closed with my friend Mikey (Chelle's new soulmate since they have the same birthday). We show up and had so much fun because we sat on the kitchen floor singing songs while some guy played acoustic songs by request. At around 4 or 5 everyone decided to turn in. Chelle got Mikey and myself up at 8 and made us come home where Mikey and I both crashed like dead people on the couches and went back to sleep. That, my friends was my evening. As always though, I reek of smoke and booze and I'm sorely in need of more sleep before I trudge out again. Actually, I think I'm staying in tonight. But we'll see.