Saturday Night Dreams

It's about 6 pm on a Saturday night and I'm drinking white wine. Trying to save a little money. I'm going to meet some girlfriends later. I'm dressed and just about ready to go. It's one of my friends Girls' Night Out Birthday Bash. But what will happen tonight?

My fantasy is that my future husband and the father of my children spots me from across the bar. It's a whirl-wind romance and we elope. And I live happily ever after.

Most likely in reality what will happen is that I will drink too much. Dance around and laugh alot. Flirt with some guy. Be dropped off at the train by my worried friends. And tomorrow, I will watch TV all day and be annoyed that I have wasted a day because of a hangover.

I have a colleague at work who is engaged to someone she met at a bar. I know plenty of women who have met their husbands in bars. I tend to meet losers, let them come home with me and lately tell them I can't sleep with them and ask them to go home. Hooray for the ask them to go home part.

Anyway, it's Saturday night. And I still have to put my Spanish Red lipstick on.

Life of the Party

Upon first meeting me, you would probably call me reserved. I would smile politely and try with all might to remember your name. My brain would turn into a black hole as a I struggled for things to talk about with you. How about the weather? Or what do you do? Yes, you would think, a very serious and very boring person is across from me.

Only, I am not. I want to sing and dance for you. I want to be silly. Tease and make you laugh. And maybe turn you on a little if I am attracted to you. So far the only way I have been able to do this is when I drink. Otherwise, it is like there is a prison guard in my head monitoring everything I do and say. I walk around in a constant state of emotional constipation.

In 2009, I will not worry if you reject me or judge me. I will not try to be a Good Girl. And I will not need you to like me because I will be too busy being the life of the party.