mish-mash from last night

Yesterday was one of my friends’ birthday, so a group of us gals took her out to dinner.  Aside from the bday girl, I don’t get to see these ladies as often as I’d like.  Work, family, babies get in the way.  Life is way different now for most of them from when we were all single in our 20’s.  OK, four out of 7 of us who were at dinner are still single.  More on that later.

Anyway, we went to Cipriani Dolci in Grand Central Terminal.  The bar was the meeting place, naturally, as we were all coming from different directions post-work.  I decided to hoof it the 15 blocks there from my office.  It was a nice night, but I worked up a bit of a sweat glisten on the way there.  I thought I’d get the chance to cool down in the nice, cool stone structure that is GCT.  That was not to be the case, though.  For some reason, the bar area was hotter than balls, despite being a part of the main, huge open concourse.  I proceeded to glisten like nobody’s business.  It must be what the most gawd-awful intense super long hot flash is like.  I won’t go into more detail, but suffice it to say that I had to shower when I got home at midnight.

Anyhoo, once we were all gathered, we left the bar area to go to our table.  If you’ve even been to this place, part of the floor consists of backlit glass panels set in the hard wood floor.  It’s kinda like a runway.


(photo courtesy of nycgo.com)

I’ve frequented the place before.  I remembered the floors.  There were three of us walking in a row.  The friend in front of me stepped onto the first glass panel and flinched, thinking she was stepping into nothing.  Even though I saw her flinch and knew why, when I stepped on to the glass one second later I still majorly flinched and stepped back as if I was falling off the edge of the freakin Grand Canyon.  Which in turn, made my friend behind me jump.  I think I gave myself, and the friend behind me, a heart attack.  And as if that weren’t enough, I flinched AGAIN when we passed over the same glass flooring when we left the restaurant. Oy.  At least I didn’t fall or cause any bodily harm to other patrons.

Dinner was lovely.  I was able to share the good news with the ladies.  Each one reacted with the very fitting and can’t-help-but-fly-out-of-your-mouth, “What The Fuck!?!?!?!”  We also MARVELED at the FB pictures.  And by marvel, I mean these girls totally had my back: “You’re totally hotter (than she is)”, “He looks wasted”, “His parents look miserable”, “Oy, what a monstrosity of a dress”, along with the general sentiments: “She’s gotta be pregnant”, “He’s fucking crazy”, “You are so lucky to be rid of him”, etc.  Asshat and his wedding photos provided some good laughs.  And, really, I share my headaches with you all purely for entertainment purposes.  Your entertainment.  I’m here to serve you!  But also for you to tell me how awesome I am and how it’s totally his loss and I deserve someone equally as amazeballs as me and be my rah-rah cheerleaders.  I keed, I keed (kinda)

Oh, and it’s been determined that I am going to sell my services and prep men for marriage.  If there’s someone you have your eye on, I’ll date them first.  I’ll work them over so good, that they run from me right into your arms and then, BAM!, you’ll be married in mere months.  I got me some magical talents.  Reach out if you want/need my help 😉

So, like I said, four out of the 7 of us are single ladies.  Attractive, accomplished, successful, mostly sane single ladies.  We all have our own place to live (sans roommates), are fully able to take care of ourselves financially, are fun to be around, and yet…GAH!

I’m trying my hardest to recruit two of these ladies to co-blog or guest blog here.  We could get the “gal from NJ” dating stories and the “gal living abroad short-term in HK” stories.  They said they are totally into it, but that was also after a couple glasses of prosecco.  It could have been the booze talking.  Later in the night as I was working on my third drink (a way too delicious bourbon cocktail), I got a little feisty in my insistence that they pen some posts.  I won’t repeat what I said, but it was rated NC-17.  I’ll keep pushing because they already have great stories and more are sure to come.  We can be the boozy, floozy babysitter’s club!

I don’t know if it was the alcohol, the lack of sleep, the slight emotional distress I am having, but I had some wacky ass dreams last night!  In one of them, I was at a huge resort for a conference or something (not BlogHer).  I spent a whole day wandering/exploring the resort with this awesome guy.  I had trouble finding my room and couldn’t remember which part of the resort it was, so he helped me (of course he did).  After we found it and got into the room, we started kissing.  Then he pulled away and mentioned something about being married, but he still wanted to hook up.  (Yeah, this marriage business haunts my dreams now, too.)  Anyway, I flipped the fuck out on him and threw him out of the room, cause this homey don’t play dat.  Damn, I can’t even escape to happy places in my dreams 😦

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2 Comments

  1. DL

    My face hurts from laughing. Well done! Our single-dom boggles the mind doesn’t it???! The Jersey-connection is ready to roll. Look out world, here comes the B.F.B.C.

    • I think you should be referred to from here on out (on here, though we can still do it in real life) as…The DL…cause you do and keep things on “the down low” 😉

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