caveat

this blog probably won't be worth reading. i don't entirely feel like writing tonight. but if i don't i'll feel guilty or at least lazy, and i hate feeling lazy. feeling guilty isn't so great either.

but i will warn you that this will likely be one of those nights where my thoughts start off scattered and plain. recounting the events of last night so that you know i got drunk, i'll talk about the lack of eye candy in the village on a cold saturday night. i'll talk about my propensity to overtip and about my insecurities about the volume of my laughter. then maybe i'll reflect upon that moment when i asked my friend's boyfriend for his opinion on my lack of a companion. i'll remember that his response was depressing, making me think i'm not really as kickass as i know i am. but first, i'll likely tell you about how i almost got into a fight at that rest stop off the palisades right before the GW bridge. about how i ignored the dude's catcalls the first time, but got aggressive when he persisted. i'll tell you that he told me that i should consider myself lucky because he "holla'd" at me. i'll probably describe my rage and my decisiveness to attempt to break this man's pride. eventually i'll get around to summarizing with the afterthought of embarrassment of the entire incident. i'll offer my drunkenness as an excuse for not properly winning the battle.

and after all these bits and pieces of a barely amusing evening, i'll talk about the falafal and hummus joint we went to after the bar, adding that the word "hummus" was spelled with a Z at this place just for some concrete imagery. i'll tell you that i woke up the next morning with the taste of onions still owning my mouth. i'm sure i'll get into how much i hate waking up in a place that isn't my own when i'm hungover. you'll be bored and slightly disgusted when i tell you about how awkward i feel about crapping at my friend's apartment and that while she's in the shower, i contemplate how out of place i feel.

eventually, you'll be caught up in my descriptions and wit and i'll lace some kind of dramatic life-lesson into the mix. you'll be left on a profound note and forget the ramblings you had to endure to get to this anti-climax. i'll struggle for too long on forming a clever conclusion but opt instead for something melodramatic. i'll feel a twinge of success when i read the published words and hope that at least one person will be at least charmed, jealous or sexually aroused by my words.

but you'll see in the end that there's not much to be learned here and that i'm really only doing all this to make myself feel slightly more accomplished.

so there. you've been warned.