Yesterday was a tough day. My car failed inspection, and the garage couldn't fix it. So I brought it to another garage, but they couldn't get it fixed in time for me to get it back to the first garage for a sticker. So I'm still uninspected and out $400. The greatest part was hearing the second garage tell me everything that my car SHOULD have failed inspection for, but didn't.
All week, I've been looking forward to hanging out in a dark lounge, drinking expensive cocktails, and chillin' with my peoples. Trying to coordinate this yesterday proved to be difficult. My efforts to go out in particular parts of the city were thwarted by some sort of event at one of the nearby colleges. Despite my disappointment, the night went well. It was wonderful to sip my 'springtini' and talk to other females. I was in the midst of a conversation with the other female in my party about how unfriendly this city is, and started to feel items hitting my feet. I looked down and the cocktail menu and salt shaker were on the floor. The female next to me turned and apologized for the other members of her party, who apparently were clearing the table. She struck up a conversation and I very much enjoyed speaking with her. It seemed as though the members of her party kept trying to distract her from speaking to me. That annoyed me. I just finished discussing how people in this city just stick to themselves when they go out, never speaking to anyone else - and here is a new friend that's an exception to that observation, and her friends were trying to prevent her from speaking to me further. Why is that necessary?
We chatted on and off for a while. She's interested in going to law school, but has some reservations about going back to school full time, the cost of law school, and seemed to keep referring to her boyfriend, with whom she indicated she thought she would settle. They're currently living together, and she figured that it wouldn't be appropriate to stick him with the responsibility of supporting both of them. She was a really dynamic individual, and it was wonderful fun to talk to her. When she was leaving, she gave me a big hug and kissed my cheek, repeatedly. Wouldn't pull away. She was super cute, so I think that the males in my party were disappointed when all clothing remained on. Dirty bastards.
C & C took good care of me and permitted me to crash in their spare room, saving me the cab fare and concern about picking up my car the next morning. I'm totally in love with their 6-month old puppy, a German shepherd now the size of a small elephant. And it was really, really nice to pass out on a bed instead of my wooden-slat contraption at my own apartment. In the comfort of the spare room, I ended up having a long conversation that further demonstrated how little it I really know about some of the people that I've known for a very long time. It was a really good night, with springtinis, smooches from a stranger, wonderful conversation, and some really nasty free drink for which I had to give up my email address.
This morning, my recuperation is complete after the traditional debriefing/hangover cure brunch, and now I think I might try to do some work. That, or watch cable TV all day.