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June 9, 2006


Tonight I'll be taking my bracelet bag out for a spin (OK, this is something I did not tell ya'll, but this bracelet bag? The one I specifically made to take on vacation and ya'll MADE FUN OF? And told me my little bag needed a bikini wax? Well, the day I was leaving for Paris I was freaking out because my suitcase was of course packed to within an inch of its life, and I knew I needed to re-pack and maybe remove some things, because yes perhaps I was taking five -- count them, FIVE -- pairs of shoes for a trip that was not even one whole week long, but whatever. So I unzipped the behemoth bag and took everything out and re-folded and re-packed and the only item that did not travel to Paris with me? The bracelet bag. Although, if you think about it in retrospect, where better to bust out a haute-hairy handbag than Paris, France?) (It's a joke, son. Do not send me hate mail.)

I'll need my handy-dandy-hairy bag tonight, though, because I'm actually going to a salsa dancing place with Jen and Amber and Gloria if she is so inclined, and all of this was MY suggestion, which is sort of crazy. Because really. Used to be I would go to work and count the hours 'til I could go home, alone, always alone, and be silent and insulate myself from all of it, the only place I wanted to be was home.

Now, truth is I will always be a homebody, it's my nature, but something changed and I don't know when it happened. Maybe the night of Amber's birthday party? I really was terrified to go out to a club, it seemed like an activity I used to do so long ago, when I felt pretty and not used up and had a different life. But I went. And as it turns out, no one is used up at all unless they decide to be. Maybe we all have nine lives, or maybe twenty, and we're going out tonight because I wanted to be with my girlfriends and laugh and people-watch and dance. And wear the damn bracelet bag which DOES NOT NEED A BIKINI WAX THANKYOUVERYMUCH.

But the hermitlessness does not stop there! Tomorrow I'm going to a late dinner at this place called the Stinking Rose, which has everything in the world garlic. They even have garlic ice cream, which I will try and report back on, because garlic ice cream? Really?

I have enjoyed, nay, LOVED, ice cream my whole life and I do not believe I have ever had bad ice cream. Is there such a thing? Isn't that a contradiction in terms? But I do not know how one can combine frozen creamy goodness with garlic. It sounds very wrong, so I must investigate. If you happen to be at the Stinking Rose late on Saturday night and see someone dissolving into a puddle of horror, it's probably me and my garlic ice cream. On the upside, I figure I can go out later and breathe on people in the general population and see who dies, and is ergo a vampire. And I may even carry my bracelet bag, which in case you were wondering, DOES NOT NEED A BIKINI WAX.


Posted by laurie at June 9, 2006 9:31 AM