sometimes you have no desire to leave the house until 1:30am and then you're glad you live in a happening neighborhood where you can roll out and into dancing bacchanalia in five minutes flat. and then run into two good friends—one ivy league lit prof just back from alaska at the door and one college buddy dancing and romancing in the back. we shook it in front of the dj sharee booth for a few minutes (hopefully looking nothing like uma thurman post-screwdriver in hysterical blindness tonight) and a clubkid gave us passes to opaline around the corner. we went and stood around puzzled. i think i said, i don't know what's going on here; it was all liminalish and neither here nor there and some straights and some gays and some busted drag queens and then i realized what it was really like was the club in queer as folk that every schlocky episode ends in, and then i knew i had to get out of there, fast.

my whole body ached in the morning—what is it about staying up late that makes your body hurt the morning after? lately only the gym makes me feel better, which is a good thing i guess. oh, and buying things. happiness is a vintage purple lacoste for a few bucks that i don't have to wait to arrive via ebay.