Sunday, April 17, 2005

Stick with the plan

I've been good in the sense that I am more than meeting my goal of one outing a week where it is possible to meet new people.

Friday night: swing dancing with CK.

I danced a lot. I've had this problem recently with not getting asked to dance much but I resolved to smile a lot and dance with anyone who asked me including the crazy, obnoxious and bad dancers. It worked, but CK agreed that my future husband was not there. I said I could live with the little guy in the fedora (very cute, young and skinny). We considered him to be a "mini" husband. I danced with him once. CK encouraged me to ask him to dance, but I just giggled and said I couldn't. It was a good night out.

Saturday: bluestate.

Princess* (aka HP--name change explained below) and I met KJ at The Black Cat. We actually saw a couple of people we knew. They asked why we were there and Princess said it was because I was a blogger (see Jamy blush). One of the guys said, "What's your url?" I wouldn’t say because I was too embarrassed. Princess said that it wasn't a secret. I told her she could tell them, but I couldn't do it. It feels like self-promotion, which I have no problem doing anonymously, but it was so awkward in person I couldn't handle it. Oh well.

My wingwomen were "useless" because, while KJ attracted a guy (cute) who stuck with us all night and was possibly digging me (am I being vain, Princess? Was he really into you or KJ?), he was only 21. We knew because in conversation he'd mentioned that he was still living at home. "I'm only 21, I figure I have a few more years living at home. At least until I finish college." I just had to laugh and feel astonished. I moved out when I was 16 and I've only been back for a few summers since. I never, ever wanted to move back in with my mother. That way lies insanity.

He knew I was older and said, "…but you're not that much older…maybe five years?" I busted up laughing. I said, "Really, you think I'm five years older than you? Really?" He said, "You're not older than 30…but yeah, five or six years." I leaned over to Princess to tell her what he said. She congratulated me. He said, "but you're not that much older than me. You're not ten years older than me."

I said, "I'm fifteen years older than you." He was surprised. I just laughed and laughed. Then he said that he could tell I was older than KJ and Princess, which had us all puzzled. I said it was my motherly ways. Princess said, "I thought I had the motherly ways."

I said, "Your motherly ways can't compete with mine!"

He said, "I can't judge the age of beautiful women."

I said, "Flattery will get you everywhere." Princess agreed. The young 'un kept saying things like, "You probably saw Ghostbusters when it first came out."

I said, "Yes."

"That's the year I was born!"

He left for a while but kept coming back to us. There were more gay guys there than you could shake a stick at and a lot of supercilious too-cool-for-school hipsters. Around 1am they played "Heart of Glass" (proud to say from the first album I ever bought with my own money; I still have it.) KJ went up on the little stage, I followed, and we danced our hearts out. A cute (gay) guy with a digital camera said, "Let me get a picture of my Blondie girls!" Later, the DJ played "We've Got the Beat" and KJ dragged our young 'un on stage with us. Princess even busted a move.

Home by 2am, sleeping by 3am. Not a bad night.

Grateful for: guys who tell my I look like I'm 26 or 27. I have no fucking idea if it's true, but I'll take it.

*From HP to Princess. HP and I usher together at a local theater. One night she was working the front door and I was inside the theater seating people. The house manager sent her in and said to take a seat. When she sat down the women on my aisle got very upset and decided they needed to go tell her that ushers do not sit down until the late seating break (after the show starts; it's different for every play). HP knows this very well. I said she probably wouldn't have sat down unless the house manager had said it was ok. That didn't stop them and one lady went to talk to her. Another lady stood by me and started complaining about HP. She said, "Does she think she's a princess?" I was trying not to say anything, but the bitching about someone as considerate as HP finally got me so angry that I told her she didn't know what she was talking about and that she should mind her own business. HP stood up, came over to where I was and we sat together at the break. We exchanged dirty looks with the "ladies." Last week HP ushered without me and she told the people she was working with the story. They called her "Princess" for the rest of the night. I had completely forgotten about the princess part of the incident, and I said, "I think you have a new blog name! I hate using those stupid initials." HP gave me her blessing.

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