Reasons I love gay bars.

Oh, let me count the ways.

First, I'm not the hottest chick on the planet, but even fugly chicks get their asses grabbed in nightclubs. I'm a fan of gay bars, because if it for some reason does happen, I'm fairly certain it doesn't really mean anything. Whereas, if I'm in a straight nightclub, they're usually trying to get in my pants. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I'll be standing at the bar of whatever hip nightclub just opened and some dude comes up to me and grabs my ass. It's so flipping annoying and the quickest way to have me put you on my own personal do not call list. This is why I generally don't go to nightclubs in the first place.

Second, I rarely have to worry about getting roofied. Or, flooried as it were. Either way, I'm pretty sure no one in a gay bar is going to mistake me for a drag queen, and therefore, they're not going to try to sleep with me. As such, putting a roofie in my drink is completely wasting it, and usually guys put them in the drinks of people they want to get in bed with, AKA, not mine. At least that's been my experience with it. Different story for a different day though.

Third, rarely has a night a gay bar ever cost me more than $30. I like cheap drinking nights. There is little in life more irritating to me than finding a receipt for a $100 night. Or worse, the bartender calling me the next day and letting me know I walked out on said $100 bar tab. Yes, it's happened.

3a. The first reason these tend to be cheap drinking nights is because the drinks are stupid strong. Like a glass of vodka and a splash of cranberry strong. Which translates into only needing a couple of them to get the job done, therefore resulting in a cheap bar tab.

3b. The second reason is because it's rare that I'm buying my own drinks in said bar, but when I do, see 3a.. I usually roll in with friends, and they usually pay for everything. And sometimes when we go, it's two-for-ones, or even three-for-ones (see 3a). Other times we go, friends introduce me to their friends and they pay for everything. On a rare occasion, I'll meet the one straight guy in the place, and those are the best. They're so excited to see a semi-hot chick in the place I've got drinks coming my way all night long. This scenario however heightens my awareness of the whole roofie situation, though not a lot. Straight guys in gay bars rarely travel with roofies.

The fourth reason I totally dig on gay bars is because there are those nights I'm in the mood to just shake my ass. And when I'm in that mood, I don't need some sweaty ass dude with frosted tips and a popped collar fist-pumping his way all up in my space. Especially if he reeks like Drakkar Noir (side story - but DN stopped smelling good in high school, guys). I dance better alone, and sometimes I just like to stare at super hot guys that are ripped dancing without their shirts on to the same Madonna remix that I love. Or J-Lo. Or whatever super awesome music they're playing. Because music in gay bars NEVER sucks.

For the better part of the last week, I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with a fifth reason to like gay bars. And really? I can't. If the first four didn't sell you on it, then I'm done. I give up. If those four aren't good enough, than you probably should stay away from them. Hopefully it'll free up a barstool for me to plant myself on. Speaking of, if you can recommend any good ones in NOLA, I'm willing to listen to recommendations.

Drinking team...

with a Kickball problem.

I FINALLY played in my first kickball game last week. I've missed the first three weeks due to my bum knee, but decided this was the week I was going to test it out. I decided that for this momentous occasion, I needed a costume of some sort. Something. Anything. I remember as a child I wanted to be a ballerina. Apparently someone out there had other plans for me, since I quickly exceeded the maximum height for ballet classes. Anyhow, I finally got my chance. I made a tutu to match our team colors!

The first two innings were tied, and in the bottom of the third our coach yelled my name. I was fourth up with two outs and a runner on. The only thought that went through my head was "don't fuck this up. get on base." I had goosebumps, if I wouldn't have been sweating profusely to begin with, I would have been by now. "Don't fuck this up. get on base. don't be the last out."

I sashayed out to home plate, heard some comments about the tutu (finally!!), and I waited for the pitch to come. I kicked it almost perfectly....it dropped right between the pitcher and the second baseman. I made it safely to first!!! Woo hoo!!!! Sadly, we didn't score in the inning, but I got a hit!!

I also somehow managed an assist in the field, though I'm not sure that's an actual statistic. Someone thought it would be a good idea to kick a ball right to me, really hard. I tried to make the catch, but it went right through my hands. Thankfully our centerfielder is amazing and was in the exact right spot to make the actual catch. We ended up being tied, but for us that counts as a win.

And since it counted as a win, our coach bought the drinks. When we lose, he buys the shots. I guess I joined the right team - we sure do like to drink. We're the two time defending flip cup champions. I have yet to participate, but only because the existing team is AMAZING. To get on the team, I'd have to challenge someone in a flip-off, and I really don't think I could beat them. I don't mean to sell myself short, I just know my abilities and know how amazing my team really is.

I'm sad I'm going to miss this week, but I'll be there the rest of the season - in my tutu.

Some days you're a redhead, others you're a blonde.....

I was at a friends BBQ….Muscle Jay. I think it was his birthday, actually. Pig roast, lots of Coors light, sun, ladder golf, and best of all, amazing friends. Laughs abounded, birds were singing, and I was being given crap about my ugly feet. Feet are SUPPOSED to be ugly!!

We felt bad about the local bartender that had to work and couldn’t come join the festivities, so we made several trips back and forth to the bar to keep him company. After the third or fourth trip, three of us decided that we wanted to change up the venue completely. We settled on Uptown to grab another drink or two and crash at my place.

We all decided that none of us were in any shape to be driving (hooray good decision making!), so we called Dry Drivers. The location change to Uptown was also nice because it was the closest – saving us all cab money. Bald Man had driven, as had I, so the only decision left to make was which car to take. He wanted his with him and I, of course, wanted mine with me. We were going to be at my place, it was the thing to do!

After many minutes of back and forth, we finally settled on his car, but only because he agreed to let me smoke one cigarette on the way home. Dry Drivers is cool because they follow you home in your car, so that you have it in the morning. Seriously a great service.

Well, when we arrived at my place, I figured out the real reason I wanted to take my car with me. As will happen, people tend to not believe the drunk chick, or the young chick, or any chick for that matter. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been right in life (I’ll give you a hint, it’s more than I’m wrong), and yet people still don’t trust my judgment. When it comes to boys I’ll concede that my judgment sucks (future post coming on that), but when it comes to life, I think I have a pretty good grasp of it and know what I’m doing. So just trust me dammit.

We’re getting ready to pay the guy when the light bulb goes off in my head. I have my car key, so I can get into it in the AM, but I don’t have my house keys. I don’t carry a purse, so I left the house keys in the car, and kept the car key with me. After much embarrassment and loads of apologies (along with an extra $40 in cab fare), we ended up back at Bri’s. Bald man gave me a ride back to my car in the am, and I crashed. In fairness, I was born a blonde…..

Saturday Boringday?

The life of a single girl isn’t always as glamorous as it seems. Saturday was one of those days. A trip to Target, a venture to the suburbs to meet a friend for a beer, moping (and by moping, I mean eating Baked Doritos, drinking Diet Coke and writing blog posts) about on my porch due to the lack of a social life here – ah, the mundane boring things that married people do!

But then, sometimes the life of a single girl IS as glamorous as it seems!!

A call out to my assistant, pleading for girly time lifted my mood immediately. She had mentioned earlier in the day that she had made a verbal commitment for the evening (which depressed me immediately because I was being a negative nancy). Turns out, the verbal commitment was with a couple co-workers at a super cute restaurant with a fabulous patio.

She had told me a week or so prior about the exclusive “Veuve” parties thrown by one of our co-workers. I didn’t know him that well, but when someone says Veuve, I say how high? I agreed immediately and inquired about the dress code. Fancy schmancy, of course. And what better dress to wear than my new dress straight out of Sex and the City 2?! I of course wanted to wear my new shoes, but the pedicure I treated myself to the day prior dictated open toed shoes. Not wanting to change my yellow purse out for the black one, I settled on these, in blue snakeskin. Yum.

We met at my place and cabbed it here, an ULTRA cute restaurant in the Marigny that used to house servants on an old plantation. The history in this city is amazing. We sat in the little courtyard, sipping champagne, the sounds of water fountains dancing in our ears. While I wasn’t particularly hungry, the crab cake was toying with me, until I saw the macadamia nut cheesecake on the menu. Dessert for dinner? Sold.

After a while, we packed up and into the “bus”, and headed off to the house party. I assumed this would be a most extravagant event, with tons of fabulous people, and amazing appetizers. I was a bit disappointed it was just the four of us, only because the utter hotness I was radiating was completely and utterly wasted with three girls, one husband and the first member of my NOLA gaytourage. Once I got past that though, it was super fun. The house was pure southern charm – his partner is an artist and basically painted the whole house. It was stunning!

We made it through three bottles of Veuve before we cracked the absinthe….in fairness, I only had a sip, but it was much better than I remember it. Maybe it was in the presentation (traditionally with a spoon and flaming sugar vs. out of a bottle in Ireland), maybe it was the company (fabulous colleagues), but it was delightful – the anise danced all over my tongue and down my throat, warming everything as it made its way to its resting spot.

It was one of the best evenings I’ve had since I’ve been here – so thanks to all involved. I really appreciate and can’t wait for the next time.

Woo hoo!

Yet another fabulous weekend is in the history books. Friday may have been the first day that I didn't feel like a 90 year old. I am ridiculously out of shape, it would appear. I felt completely normal on Saturday, but Friday was great. Productive day at work, LOTS of laughs had...all in all a great day at the office. We left around 4 for HH.....and what was supposed to be two at Cajun Mikes turned into four. Then we made tracks to the Bulldog (closer to home for both my counterpart and I), where one turned into four. Analytical conversations interspersed with dirty jokes is a wonderful way to end the long week. I was supposed to meet up with a friend I met at the concert, but it turns out my body had a different agenda. As I laid down to read the newspaper, I let my eyes rest......and four missed calls and two texts later, it's 1AM. Guess I wasn't going out further.

Saturday I woke up super early....like 7AM early. After forcing myself back to sleep for a couple hours, I grabbed a cup of coffee and waited for my couches to arrive. I HAVE COUCHES! Plural! And they're SUPER nice. Soft, comfy black leather. I really only have room for one of them, but the pair was about half of what I paid for my previous couch. Singular. They're my first "official" pieces of furniture (the clothing racks and air mattress don't count). I had some time to kill before the USA v. England soccer match, so I caught up on the most recent Wine Spectator.

The destination for the soccer game was the Bulldog, and I went a bit early to secure a table. There were only a few left when I got there, none of which were in the bar area, but I call it a success. It was absolutely packed after an hour....like to the point of not being able to move. Beers were drank, laughs were had, friendships started. I had intended to meet up with my friend Rob, but by the time I got home, the furthest I was going was McCools. I wanted to check to see who my team in their pool is (Italy....and if they win it all, I win $300) and there were a few people I knew sitting outside. Stayed for a couple drinks and called it an early night.

I really thought people were lying to me when they said there's a festival here every weekend. There literally is. And when I saw the Creole Tomato Festival, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I woke up super early again on Sunday, grabbed breakfast and finally was able to meet up with Rob for this festival. And it was super lame. The highlight of it was the creole tomato bloody mary mix. We stopped into Margaritaville to bask in the air conditioner, ate alligator and then found Ryan's pub for the Germany v. Australia game. The rest of the afternoon slash early evening carried on like that - something good at one bar, something good at another bar.....The best was the Pimm's Cup at the Carousel bar though. The bar itself was odd at first....spinning around took some getting used to, as well as the kitsch factor of the place. Lots of old people. And cougars. Overall worth the experience though.

Should be another good week this week....I have my first client lunch today, I'm going to the gym Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Tuesday a few of us are going to check out Cochon and Friday there's another great concert. Seems that I am taking to this city after all.

Week Recap

It's been a week of ups and downs, that's for sure. Friday was somewhat a blur. Went to the local hotel bar with some colleagues, met a new friend and an old one showed up. Couldn't figure out anything to do so we sat. And drank. And laughed. And drank more. And laughed even more. Seems like a recurring theme with me. In any event, we had a great time, and I was out shortly after arriving back at the hotel around 10.

Saturday....I had to finally cowboy up and hit Tar-zhay. In the suburbs. Yikes. Now, I'm one of like three people on the planet that can go into Target to buy shampoo and walk out with said shampoo, and shampoo only. I don't walk in and walk out $300 later. However, this time, I had a list. In the future I shall rethink what I sell when I move. I could have saved probably $150 on stupid shit. I need everything. Literally everything. So I did what any sensible person would do. I made a list. I'm talking everything from curtains to a toilet paper holder (which I, of COURSE, forgot). When I saw how full my cart was, I put the over/under at $500. Final tally? $493 and change. I could have had a new pair of shoes for that! Stupid necessities.

After assembling my clothing racks, and putting my shower back together, I headed even further into suburbia to meet up with my friend Cory (see previous post for his heroics). His buddy was having a crawfish boil, which of course I was down for. I unintentionally took the scenic route, so I was a bit late, and unfortunately by this point, it had started raining. There goes the boil. His buddy Shawn brought over probably 10 pounds of the stuff, sausage, corn, potatoes, the whole 9. Then I discovered the video game obsession. We couldn't find Arch Rivals, nor CastleVania, but we did find Contra. AND he remembered the code! Awesome times 1000. Played until we beat the game, and then headed to the drive thru daquiri bar (YES, they have them here!!!), and to another friends for the UFC fight. Dude had a sweet golf cart....which I tried to trade my car for...different story....different post. After the fight (and a mini-nap), they brought me to their local bar. And for some reason they let me be the DJ....yeah. 'Nuff said.

Woke up on the couch at some point, had coffee and then headed back to the city. I was having a porch party that afternoon and wanted to be ready. Super fast stop at the hotel for a shower, hopped in a cab and headed home. Thankfully I remembered my keys were in my hotel room BEFORE I got home (yet another story for yet another post), so the cabbie was gracious enough to turn back. Not gracious enough to hit pause on the meter, but gracious nonetheless. The details of the rest of this day are in the previous post, so I won't rehash them here. Suffice to say it was mostly a great afternoon and evening.

The rest of this week has been pretty mundane. I've been rocking out at work (Chemical Brothers currently), hanging out at the local bar, convincing numerous suitors that I'm perfectly happy single, trying to get in the mindset of quitting smoking (must quit by my next b-day), eating copious amounts of gyros, and becoming better at biting my tongue. Next we shall work on our patience level (currently non-existent). I will rant about why that is such a challenge for me at a later point in time. I did discover a bar called....drum roll.....Bulldog!! And they have a fabulous beer selection! Drank a bunch of Rogue's beers last night with the work crew. It's super close to home, not walking distance, but definitely less than a $10 cab ride (some mistakes I actually DO learn from!).

Not much planned for this weekend though. Grabbing dinner with a friend tonight, searching out a laundromat and giving my apartment a good scrub down tomorrow, and I guess being dragged to SATC2 Sunday. Not that I don't love, love, love Sex and the City, I just haven't heard a single good thing about this film. And I don't really want to PAY to see it. But, it's a chance to meet some girls, and hopefully start to recreate my girls back home. I know they aren't replicatable (is that a word?), but I need some girly time sometimes!

Next week should rock pretty hard. My computer should arrive Monday, Imogen Heap at the House of Blues Monday night, which means I need to re-schedule my first Krav Maga class for Tuesday, MONO Wednesday in Baton Rouge and on top of it all, because I should have my computer, I'll FINALLY be able to start learning French! The easiest way to ease the homesickness is to stay busy, focused on other things. Yes, I just admitted I'm homesick. I miss the shit out of all of you back in MN. It's only been a month, and I know it'll get better, but it's still made me sad this week, and made me question the decision to move. I know in my heart of hearts it was the right thing to do, I just need to keep telling myself. And keeping my mind on other things here. So I shall.

XOXOXO ~ Me