London Bound

So, I went out tonight--something that's typically a little hard on me. Compound that fact with the idea that I had a horrible day at work and didn't come home until after seven o'clock. I said tiny prayers that since so much had gone wrong with my day & I was really dreading the evening, that just perhaps, I could have an awesome time.

Apparently, I have connections. Four gay men and one great girlfriend later, I think I had one of the best nights out ever. I drank only two drinks, one being an apple martini, and discovered, I can get totally blasted for fewer than fifteen dollars with something completely feminine in hand. Who knew?

There were so many great conversations tonight that I remarked to myself, "I need to remember to blog that," but I think the apple martini erased most of my good intentions. I do recall being in the middle of what was probably a private moment, but I was too drunk to behave with proper manners and enjoying the middle to watch one man profess his love to another by mouthing it. When he asked his partner if he understood him, he remarked, "I was looking at your eyes. I didn't know I was supposed to be reading your lips." I then took it upon myself to lean in and blurt out, "He said he loves you," which all the sudden made me feel all warm and fuzzy on behalf of them. Of course, then my brain started shouting, "Okay, well nobody loves me!" and a furrow probably set in on my brow.

Sadly, after such a night, I decided I totally want a gay boyfriend.

Now accepting applications.


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