Why Am I So High?

Why am I so high?
- Me, 203,843,087,525 times on 4/20

I never really got into the whole weed thing in college. It just seemed like getting drunk was more convenient and easier to regulate. I had dabbled a couple of times and was never really impressed. I believe the last time I had any was about five years ago, so of course I decide to dabble again over the weekend thinking it would result in the mild loopiness of the past. Something not unlike sitting at the gas station with your windows down for a little too long. This was not the case.

Life lesson: So thaaaatt's what being high is like.

I don't know how to feel. It was enjoyable for the first 30-60 minutes, and then it got old. I swear that twenty minutes at a bar felt like eight hours. I was all ready to go home until I checked the time (12.20 AM!!!) and realized we had a couple more hours to go. In my elevated state, I decide, "Ok, I can deal with this. Just a couple more hours. I will just sit down and not do anything dumb." Ten hours later, it feels like it's 30 degrees inside of a crowded bar, and I'm shivering and clutching my jacket around myself. After three more hours have passed, I check the time. Hm. Only 12:27, that's not good.

And the night continues on like this. I really needed that shit to be over right then. It was getting old.

On top of the fact that this is the highest I've ever been, the DJ was fuckin' terrible. Songs would cut off for no reason. At some points, it sounded like he stepped away from the equipment and just let a cat walk around on top of the knobs/keys/buttons. I really thought I was losing time, the mixing was so terrible. (It has since been confirmed that I did not lose time, and the DJ really was the worst ever.) Now, it was not only the audio fucking with my mind. I underwent optic injury as well. Huge swathes of crazy white kids start "dancing" in front of me, consisting mostly of random jumping and what appeared to be violent seizures. I honestly thought I was hallucinating. I remember repeatedly asking the people around me if they were seeing the same thing. (They were, and I'm not sure if this was what I wanted to hear.) I blame them for making me feel higher than I probably was.

I'm sure there's more to tell, but I was high. Gimme a break. In short, it was cute for about an hour, and that's about it for me.



ADDENDUM

Dear Kuyung,

I don't ever do anything bad. This was all just stealing someone else's story and telling it in the first person to make it a better read. Repeat: I don't actually do ANY of these things.

<3,
Catherine

Photo When I Feel Like It

I need a vacation.

SRT #66

Since I got out or work around noon, I stopped by the Franciscan monastery to try to take some pictures of the catacomb replicas they have. Last time I was there, I was in grade school for a field trip and shit was kinda creepy. Unfortunately for me, you aren't allowed down there without a tour guide, and the only tour guide there was an old feeble looking dude. You'd think this wasn't a problem, except that he told me that there was a policy that no tour can occur where there is only one female. Blech. I could take him in a fight. A slight breeze could break this guy's hip, but that's the policy now. Le sigh. I got some pictures of the upper church though, and perhaps I'll actually look through them before the end of time. (Most likely scenario: I go through them during my Christmas break.)

While I was checking out the upper church, I noticed two Italian looking dudes come in as well. As far as I saw, they weren't there for a tour (like me) or confession (a couple people were waiting for the priest). All they did was have little conversations in various corners of the church. They definitely did not stay in one place, but they had no interest in the church itself. They simply carried on their conversation the entire time. The occasional hug would be exchanged as well. I feel as though deaths were being arranged to look like accidents. Some shady shit was going down.

I swear they're in some sort of mafia. But mafia? In DC? I dunno...

To Do List

1. Find/break out my green cords. I am thinking green cords + grey sweater + light brown scarf for their first trip out this winter. But then what? What shoes? I must figure this out!

2. Decide if I can pull off white during the winter. Perhaps if I do an over the top "Where-the-regatta-at?"-preppy it can work for me.

3. Sell off the shoes I never wear anymore to help facilitate my international gallivanting plans. My shoes are in awesome condition, but I never wear so many of them. It's sad really. I'll probably just hold on to a couple pairs of dunks and release the rest into the wild. (Wild = Ebay)

4. Play with the camera more often. Now that it's getting colder (excluding this 60-70 degree Thanksgiving break), I like the look of DC architecture. It all looks so much more interesting when deserted.

The New Crack

So TF2 is fucking awesome. Unfortunately, I also got it halfway through the month of XBox Live that I paid for, and Halo 3 sits alone with no one to play with. After getting acclimated to TF2, I tried to play Halo last night, and I have realized: shit is boring. I never really realized how much time you spend just looking for someone to kill. And really, why is Master Chief so slow? A fucking Heavy moves faster than that, and he's carrying Sasha all over the place with him all the time.* So what is Master Chief's problem? He has no excuse for such slowness. My adoration of Halo 3 has diminished significantly. A mere whisper of what it once was. I don't think I'll play it much anymore, which is probably a good thing.

Unfortunately for me, TF2 is infinitely more addicting. The pace is so much faster that it's obscene how easily you lose track of the time. I was planning to play a little bit before going to bed last night, and suddenly, it was 1 AM. How did that happen?** Le sigh. It's probably a bad thing that I got this game. My friends thought I was getting pretty anti-social when Halo 3 came out. And then I got this. Here's an example of how I have problems battling addictions, especially when new and exciting:

Scene: Happy Hour at Lotus
K Street, between 14th and 15th Streets
Friend: So we're all going to 18th Street Lounge after this, you're coming, right?
Me: Uh, I have plans.
Friend: Oh, where are you going?
Me: Home. TEAM FORTRESS 2!!!!111!!!!11!!***
Friend: ...
Me: Hey, those heavies aren't just gonna buff themselves! Someone has to do it.
Friend: ...
Me: What?
Friend: Why are you such a loser?
Me: Because it's awesome.

I think I have my priorities straight. It's the WORLD that is crazy.


* Sasha is no joke, she can crush you.
** It's not a good idea for me to play video games before going to sleep. I dream that shit and wake up whenever I die, so it is especially non-restful when I dream TF2.
*** Yes, I was looking forward to it that much.

SR(Who Cares When I Do This, Really?) #57

So I missed a day; sue me. Actually, don't. I have important places my money needs to go. My closet, for example. Anyways, I delayed because no topics to write about entered my mind. "But, Catherine," you ask, "your mind is normally empty no matter the scenario. How was this week any different?" Well, I'm lazy. I don't know what to tell you. That seemed as good an excuse as any, and now it's ruined. RUINED!¹ So I will simply go through the notes I keep on my phone. Occasionally, I'll stick some random blurb in there, intending to write extensively on each topic, but I am lazy and so will do them all together with shorter blurbs. Here we go!!

Sun, Jul 29 2:30pm
c

I have no idea what this means. Perhaps it's a reminder as to how to start spelling my name? Perhaps I was about to note someone as a cunt? I really have no recollection of this. :T (This is my new favorite emoticon. Yes, I have a favorite emoticon. Sue me.²)

Fri, Jul 20 3:43pm
cool factor v. nerd v. angry

I think a friend and I were in the process of categorizing people we know. For the most part, everyone seemed to pretty clearly fall into cool or nerd, with very few straddling both.³ It was then pointed out that while I used to reside mostly in an angry place, I am now definitely in the nerd category. I accept that. It's not MY fault that they read In Her Shoes and I read The Zombie Survival Guide. When the zombies come, who'll be laughing then?! WHAT NOW, JERK?!

Mon, Oct 1 8:16pm
fake jt for cash!!!!

OHMIGOD. I was watching TV and suddenly Justin Timberlake is advertising for some quick cash loan deal. It was one of those places that tells you to put up your car for the loan, and then in fine print, there's like, 150% interest or something terrible like that. Anyways, after about two seconds it sinks in that this is NOT Justin, but a lookalike. Crazy. He even had the trying-too-hard stubble, off center fedora, and I think a vest that only Mr. Timberlake can wear without everyone assuming he's gay. In addition to that, the end of the commercial had this dude sitting at a grand piano. Do these people think Justin is a good loan sharking public spokesman? Are they targeting females from the ages of 10-25? Is that prime loan shark bait? Somehow, I really doubt this.

Upon reviewing the above summary, I really don't convey how amused I was. I was literally squealing with delight. It was awesome.

Thu, Jul 19 5:05pm
fupa is not business casual

So I'm walking to my ride home after work, which is around Judiciary Square, when I see what looks like a group of interns. They all look about 18-20, so I assume they were interns. They are wearing super business formal clothing for the most part, a little bit of business casual, so they were straddling that line. (Re: Tee Hee) It was not cute. A herd of poorly dressed things. A cacophony for the eyes, it was ill-fitting suits and bad shoes. Blech. Their queen, however, had FUPA hanging out of her suit jacket. It was, admittedly, a short jacket, but FUPA! And not just FUPA forcing her shirt to paunch out along with it. NAKED FUPA! Her shirt was also too short! NAKED FUPA at Judiciary Square! Terrible. My eyes still burn. I had to go stare at the Fall/Winter Balenciaga show to ease the pain.

Mon, May 28 4:12pm
level 1 aisle e

I must have gone to Tyson's Corner. Usually, I just take a picture of the sign with my camera phone, but I think I was (and still am) out of memory.

Mon, Jul 16 10:58 am
make a left at RECALCULATING ROUTE

I was in Philly and had to pick up a friend at an unfamiliar street. My phone's GPS got me there fine, but then we had to go to another unfamiliar area. At this point, satellites decided that they hate me when my phone spewed out this direction. How can I possibly make a left at recalculating route? I don't think that's a real street. Needless to say, I was sad and much pouting ensued. Luckily, I was able to find my way, but not without much sturm und drang. And, of course, more pouting.

Wed, Jul 11 7:34am
tweezing on the bus is a bad idea

That is all.


¹ Sorry, I'm in an especially random mood right now. Let's call it crazycornystrange.
² For real though. Please don't.
³ Tee hee. Straddle.

Solomons Island

Crabbing is weak there now. It makes my heart cry.

I Love...

...children's toys.

SRT #44

This is supposed to be my summer of self-improvement. Quick list of things I'm supposed to be practicing and/or accomplishing over the next couple of months:

1. Getting more physically active. I'm on the Wii workout and have taken to walking about 2 miles after work pretty much every day, depending on my work load/arrival time at work, which is dependent upon morning rush hour traffic. I am turning into a fat load, and am not happy about it. Also, I just need to be more fit when the zombies come.

2. Return to a slightly more artsy-fartsy place. I have purchased a Nikon d40 to enable this endeavor. As long as I am gallivanting through downtown DC every afternoon, I'm going to take (try to take?) nice pictures. We'll see how this goes. Hopefully, this hobby will stick. It had better stick with all the money I've spent so far.

3. Actually filling out grad school applications. I am at a 95% confidence interval for applying to MPH programs. We will see how this goes.

4. Cutting back on TV time. Instead of wasting away hours of time watching pointless TV and reruns that I've seen eighty-six times before, I'm just going to watch new episodes of series that I enjoy online with out the wasted time of commercials and what not. Also, this frees up my primetime activity and I'll be watching these things on Sunday mornings and other days when nothing of importance/productivity is occurring.

So that is the summer plan. Hopefully, only good things will happen, but you never know. I figure that posting this will give me a better reason to stick to the general plan. I can easily manipulate myself that way. I'm super easy.

Adventures in LA

While in LA, I took random notes in my phone so that I would remember all the random things I noticed. I have a horrible memory when it comes to remembering the random thoughts that occur to me for no reason, strange things that I observe, or anything that people tell me. Well, I have a horrible memory in general. It's a miracle that I can get home every night (for the most part). Now it seems like I have whorish tendencies, but I really do just have a shitty memory. I really don't know how I got off on this tangent, but here are the notes stored in my cell phone:

Wednesday, May 9 5:49 AM
level 2 row 4

It seems as though the poor memory is in my blood, as I took this note for my father so that we could go home upon our return to DC. Without this note, we surely would still be wandering the long term parking at National hoping to see our generic Honda amongst the herd.

Wednesday, May 9 6:03 AM
just saw the first white woman "randomly" selected for screening

This was a historic moment for all travelers everywhere. Apparently, this woman has not flown on a plane for years, as she did not remove her shoes or jacket, left her boarding pass in her bag (going through the x-ray machine), and then proceeded to ask about all of these "new" processes. The person (who was black) that waves you through the little gate then "randomly" selected her for more intense screening. I took great pains to refrain from indulging in gluttonous, self-satisfying peals of laughter. Instead, I simply internalized it, which is probably a good thing, as it (hopefully) counteracted all of the other internalized reactions of the negative nature that will eventually lead to my heart attack/stroke when I'm 26. In any case, this was an excellent moment for me, but a truly glorious moment for anyone darker than khaki.

Wednesday, May 9 12:28 PM
jerks who put their shit in any overhead. it fucks up everyone else.

I really do not like these people. The ones who just shove their carry on luggage into the first open space they see regardless of where their seats are. If you are sitting in 37B, don't stow your bag above row 10. Where do you expect the row 10 passengers to put their things?! It completely throws off everyone's luggage, so at landing, everyone is going up and down the aisles trying to find their stuff. Don't be a jerk. Just use the space allotted to your seat area.

Friday, May 11 9:23 AM
so many open toed shoes with hose!

At the USC graduation, there were some very well dressed people. Unfortunately, the overall state of dress was average due to some atrocities. Open toed shoes with hose are not right. I had no words, just gaping disbelief. While on the topic, there were some really excellent shoes on display. That part was glorious. It's probably as close as I can come to knowing what it feels like for men to graduate from Playboy to titty bars. LIVE ACTION PORN! Besides the shoes, however, there was one theme that so many people embodied at the graduation: skin cancer. For all the creationists out there, how can you deny evolution's veracity when there are BASEBALL MITTS sprouting legs, running around, and sending offspring to college? I DEFY you to explain that to me. The point is, use sunscreen. You are a person, not a leather good used to play sports.

Saturday, May 12 3:05 PM
.

I got my period.¹ Ugh. I had to take note so as to remember putting it into my Grand Calender of Suffering. I don't have anything to add to the already vast library of period complaints. My only real complaint is the cramps during the first 36ish hours or so. However, God did seem to take a little bit of pity on me and only stuck with the (relatively) lighter body blows to the abdomen instead of His usual gut-wrenching uppercuts straight into my uterus. God, is it really necessary for all the pain? I know women are the source of all sin, but I didn't offer any apples to anyone.

Sunday, May 13 5:00 PM
if you need a cane, why are you in heels?

I randomly remembered seeing a woman in heels using a cane during the graduation. (That is how my memory works. I will see something, forget about it, and then spontaneously remember for no reason at all.) I understand a love of heels. I really do. But if you need a cane to walk, maybe you should stick with flats. It just seems self-defeating to me.

Sunday, May 13 9:08 PM
another deflated aero bed

We stayed with fake-me-out family in Vegas on Saturday night, and I got put on the aero bed. Now, it started out pretty poorly filled, but I just assumed that was a time constraint. I was wrong. Something was wrong with the seal, and I woke up on the floor with nothing but a sheet and 2 layers of plastic between my body and the floor. It was quite sad. The only thing that makes it sadder is the lack of novelty. This has happened to me before, except on purpose and with spite/torture in mind. I was trying to get some sleep during a ski trip during which I did nothing but drink and go snow-tubing, when someone decided that they were bored and I would be the one to entertain her. So the seal was broken, and I was on the floor. I hate aero beds.

Monday, May 13 12:23 PM
they almost lost my luggage!

Have you ever gone to the luggage claim area at the airport, watched other people haul their bags off of the conveyor belt while waiting for your own, and then see the stream of luggage just end without yours ever showing up? Yeah. It sucks, right? I'm standing there like a puppy, pouting, willing the conveyor to randomly start up to deliver my one fucking bag. Clearly, my will was not strong enough as that didn't happen. As I began my trek to the luggage services, I began mentally listing all of the items in the bag that I had lost, and how much it would cost to replace all of it. If anything stopped me from replacement, I was going to fight someone. This despondency was only aggravated by the fact that of the 2,109,387 bags my family had checked, only mine was lost. By the time we got to the service area, I had calculated a reimbursement of about $870.² I was all ready to fight someone about my stuff. Fortunately (unfortunately?), they had my suitcase at the service area. Apparently, it got put onto an earlier flight from LA to DC, and no one had claimed it. Thank God.³ Most of me was overjoyed at the recovery of the suitcase, but a small part was disappointed in not having an excuse to fight. I like to find new ways to release aggression.

More than this happened, of course, but these are the only notes I remembered to take. Some good, some bad. Some shitty, some bloody. That was LA.


¹ Sidenote: Few things are more amusing than finding the one other female in a room full of boys and talking about periods so that everyone can hear. The facial expressions are totally worth it.
² I have a lot of stuff. This isn't even all of what I brought for the trip, as I shoved some into my mother's GINORMOUS suitcase when I got lazy in repacking everything.
³ I guess this sort of makes up for the bleeding, but not really. Is the bleeding really necessary though? Nothing should bleed for 4-7 days without dying. It's not right.

A Gallery of Awesome

I am a fan of Chinatowns in general. For the most part, I go to Chinatown for food because I am a fatty. However, in LA, we went for the shopping as well. I love random amusing things. For example, who knew that people still made these:

Does anyone still own a VHS player? If so, are the people that still own/use them in such a rush that they need a separate rewinder? This is madness. If you're still using VHS, you probably aren't on a super-tight schedule. I do like the white color-way though. Very iPod.

The best thing about Chinatown is awesome knockoff products. For example, when I was in high school, Bebe was Teh Hawtness.* Unfortunately, not all people could afford it. This is not a problem now with the production of:

Awesome, isn't it? And it has the advantage of being an actual word! No matter how awesome this is, it is nothing compared to:

I was drinking water when I turned around, saw this GLORIOUS thing, and choked. CHANNEL! I have no words. Despite this glory, there was one product to rule them all:

Innocuous, isn't it? This is not impressive at all. Just a pair of pantyhose. Nothing to get excited about, right? WRONG! This seemingly innocent product is actually:

SATAN! This is manufactured in the depths of HELL! Why import from China when you can import from Hades itself?! I am still riddled with giggles whenever I think of it.


* I'm from PG County, that's how it is. Was? Just accept it.

I Work To Live

One of the restaurants at the resort in Mexico had this sauce with chips and whatnot with every meal. It was perhaps one of the greatest things in life, trumped only by the fried oysters at another restaurant. It was just the right creaminess, just the right spiciness, just the right everything. As I recall it, I feel a mixture of joy and sadness. I'll most likely never have this exact flavor again, but I am glad that I've had it. So delicious. So wonderful. It was an explosion in my mouth.*


* Insert dirty joke here. Do you see how I just cater to the dirty minds? Do you? And people say that I'm inconsiderate. Bastards.

SRT #33

I was at some bar in Arlington over the weekend for a friend's birthday. So we're all hanging out, blah blah blah, and I wasn't really drinking since I planned on driving back home to Maryland and dropping people off at their respective homes. I note my lack of drinking only because I'm more accepting of dance in general if I'm at least a little drunk. Since I was sober, the amount of hate I generate in this particular area is greater than normal. Also, the more sober I am, the more clearly I remember things that confuse the hell out of me.

So when I got there, rap was ruling the place, which was quite funny because at least 90% of the patrons were white.¹ As the night wore one, the music got whiter and whiter, yet there was no change in the "style" of dance.² They were doing the basic (but off-beat) grind to Akon's I Wanna Fuck You, which is acceptable, but then continued to do that to Journey's Any Way You Want It. It doesn't make any sense. How does one even begin to dance to that song, much less grind to it? It is beyond my understanding.



¹ Now, I could simply comment on the strange seizures called "dancing" by the oppressors, but that's much too easy. That's about as challenging as picking on the retarded kid with no legs.
² I use the word "style" very loosely.

SRT #32

So there were rumors of $2 video games at Best Buy yesterday, and since I had so conveniently neglected to go to work, I decided to check it out. All I wanted was Harvest Moon for the DS, and they didn't have it in stock. So while I'm perusing the other DS titles to see if there's anything I might want to play, this kid tries to kick some game. It ended with me asking how old he was (16). I then asked if he had any idea how old I am. He did not have a good answer, which was a shame. I was able to contain my laughter during my quick exit from the Nintendo aisle, after which I could not stop the laughter from pouring out of me.

I think I made him feel bad.

I Think I Might Have a Problem

I Was Busy

So I've neglected the last couple of SRTs, and I really do have a good excuse this time: I was busy. Holidays happened, and I had shit to do. I went through the regular holiday routine for the most part. The only new thing was a trip to Tennessee to visit some family over there. The drive sucked, but an 11 hour drive can only reach limited levels of entertainment. Some things to note about Tennessee, or at least the area that we were in:

1. No one locks their doors. I didn't realize that this is actually true. Whenever I heard a mention of this phenomenon, I didn't actually take it literally. I figured it was just something people said to highlight the difference in crime levels between the coast and middle America. I was very concerned because anyone could just come in and take all of my family's stuff. More importantly, I was very concerned that anyone could just come in and take my stuff. I brought two pairs of top tier shoes with me. It was very stressful.
2. People are not attractive in Tennessee. While still deep in Tennessee on the return trip, we made a stop for gas. My mom turns to me and says, "People are ugly here. Look at that lady. She's really ugly." She then points to another person in the parking lot and says, "Something is wrong with that man's face. People are uglier here. Even the white people." Perhaps the wrong thing in this is my mom assuming that white people should be good-looking. Perhaps it is the fact that she made a generalization that people of Tennessee have a higher ugly quotient than other places we have been.¹ In any case, we saw many ugly people.
3. There is little to no appreciation of a good pair of shoes in Tennessee. Seriously, I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of the demons known as crocs running rampant through the land. It was disgusting. All non-croc shoes I saw were clearly uncared for and exposed to such atrocities as MUD, DUST, and NATURE IN GENERAL. It made my heart cry, and I mourned for this travesty.
4. Asians with a slight southern accent are a strange thing to see/hear.

So that was Tennessee. The highlight of the trip is the fact that my (super-dorky) cousin has a Wii, and I proceeded to play Zelda for about 10 hours. That game is super awesome. A close second is the fact that my skills in Mario Tennis 64 are unmatched, as I was undefeated by all using either Monkey (aka Donkey Kong) or Bowser, neither of which had stars. I am the Master of All.²


¹ Some generalizations are based in truth. This one is not simply based in truth; it is just true.
² If all equals Mario Tennis 64.

He Speaks the Truth

So I'm back in a recently resurrected chat room to pass the time at work. I know the people in the room in real life, as we're all somehow connected to an org from my Drexel days. So I jump in on a recap of a recent party where someone says:

its not a drexel party until someone wakes up in a hospital

So true.

SRT #15

So there have been a number of developments in life which I suppose I could write about, but haven't had the desire to. I really need to be in the correct mindset to concoct an entertaining entry, but it just hasn't happened yet. So here are some previews for the next few entries:

• I started a new job last Monday.
• The future leaving of this job.
• The wedding is finally over. (Not mine,* but the friend for whom we went to Miami for.)
• A sudden upshot in insecurity.

So as you can see, I do have things to write about, and one day, I'll get to it.

Just not today.

* Barf.

Addendum

I came across something on Overheard in New York that almost made me spit my drink out onto my monitor: You've had way too much cock in your mouth to be vegan. Super funny, I know. Just wanted to share that.

And I Just Can't Hide It

Do you ever feel like the older you get, the less excited you get over anything and everything? I remember when I was a child, I would get excited over the typical things: summer vacation, Christmas, birthdays, etc. While I wouldn't get as agitated as my peers, I did look forward to these events. Instead of having a completely straight face, I would occasionally have a bit of an upturn at the corners of my mouth. It was a mere whisper of a smile, but it was still there.

For example, when I was a junior in high school, I went island hopping amongst the Greek Islands. I was super-excited. On the inside. On the outside, I was the picture of nonchalance. A friend of mine was perplexed with my seeming lack of excitement about this trip a few days beforehand. The point is, even though I rarely demonstrate excitement, I do feel it. And I really did feel it for that trip. And for birthdays. And for vacations. And for all those things people usually get excited about.

In the last couple of years, however, I haven't had anything to look forward to. My birthday came and went, and while I did celebrate it, I didn't really care. Christmas: not a big deal to me. I'm sorry, but I just can't bring myself to care. The closest I get to excitement is vaguely looking forward to something, but even then, it comes and goes. I look forward to certain things, like parties, but in all honesty, I could take it or leave it. Shit just doesn't seem to matter to me as much anymore. It kinda makes me sad.

Right now, however, I think I've recaptured that feeling of excitement/anticipation you get when you're really looking forward to something. I'm not gonna say why right now, as it will get around soon enough.

So now you're wondering: if I want to keep the reason for the excitement on the downlow, why even write about it? The fact that I'm truly excited about anything is news enough for me. I didn't get excited over going to college, graduation from said collage, the first job, the second job, getting my driver's license, and all other such events. (Not in this order.) But I am undoubtedly excited about this.

I'm so excited.

Miami: Part III

Now for the exciting conclusion of the Miami weekend! Actually, not so exciting, but it's what happened. I'm sure I could have made this a funnier read somehow, but I think that can only be achieved through vocal inflections and whatnot, so you’ll just have to imagine them.

SATURDAY

Even though we didn’t get to sleep until around 5:00 AM, our room wakes up around 10:00. We only have one full day in Miami, and we’re not about to waste it in bed. When we wake up, we call the other room to see if they’re awake. No one answers, so we leave a message saying what we’re doing. Once we’re ready to head out around 11:00, we call again with no answers. However, right outside the hotel, we find the BTB finishing up a cigarette, and she tells us that they just woke up a little while ago and they’re watching the Disney Channel. The Disney Channel! Are you serious?!

After learning this information, we head out to Nikki Beach. Jack drove us there, dropped us off, then went home, so it’s just me, Jane, and Jill. It’s a really nice place, but it’s too bad that they’re big party night is on Sundays, so we miss out on that. The lunch is pretty good, and we chill out with Coronas and Sangria. During lunch, we text the Moms again to see what’s up. No answer. So we text again actually asking for an answer, which we do receive this time. They’re eating lunch at some other place which is fine with us. So now the plan is for them to meet us at Nikki Beach for drinks (Mojitos by the pitcher) and then head to the beach. An hour and a half later, we find out where they are: still eating lunch, and they’re going to drop off their leftovers at the hotel. Are you serious?! Still with the leftovers?!

At this point, we just head to the beach and I get in a quick nap. An hour later, around 3:00, they show up, which is fine by us, except that we’re hot and the inner darkness is starting to show on our skin. Now, I’m perfectly happy to have a nice tan. In fact, I welcome it with open arms, but I don’t need to change races or look like a leather baseball mitt some poor kid left outside in the sun for the entire summer. So we stick around for another hour. At 4:00 we tell them that we’re going to head back to the hotel and shower and handle all of that. We ask what they want to do for dinner, here is their answer: We might just eat leftovers. Are you serious?! Leftovers!? They also note that they’re probably going to take naps when they get back to the hotel. Fine with us, we find out what we need to know, and we head back.

After another series of phone calls, we get a timeline. Apparently, they’ve decided not to eat their leftovers and want a new dinner that night. We make plans to meet up with Jack for drinks around 6:30 so that we can get to dinner around 8:00. Strangely enough, he’s early, so we hurry up a bit and get out around 6:15. Now, we told the Moms exactly what we were going to do: go back to the hotel, shower, change, meet up with Jack for drinks at 6:30, then have dinner at 8:00. Jack would be gone after drinks, and had no effect on our plans. Really, even if we weren’t meeting up with him, we weren’t about to sit in the hotel room waiting for them to get ready. We would have gone somewhere anyways.

So we’re walking towards dinner with Jack (he’s going to leave once we get there), and we’re a block behind the Moms. Normally, we’re probably be about even with them, but I was wearing my crazy heels, and my feet hurt retroactively from the previous night, when I also wore madness, so I was not the quickest walker in life. (This will be discussed at a later date.) We finally get to the restaurant, and for unforseen circumstances, we can’t eat there. So we start to walk towards Sushi Samba. On the way, we pass this place called Santo. The Nazi looks at the menu, which is posted outside, and decides to eat there. The entrees cost $30-45 and the appetizers are in the $10-15 range. Given that this is pretty pricey, Jane suggests that we walk the one extra block to Sushi Samba, which isn’t a cheap place, but is more reasonable that this. The Nazi insists on this place, declares that she’s hungry and is acting like a two year old. Fine.

We get a table and try to decide what to order. The three of us (me, Jane, and Jill) get the filet mignon, since we figure we might as well get something good. The Nazi and MOH only order appetizers, saying that everything is too expensive. At this point I’d like to remind everyone of the fact that the Nazi wanted us to pay for all of the BTB’s expenses, yet she did want to spend the money for an entrée. As an additional note, you will remember that she insisted that we eat at this place even after looking at the menu and all of the prices. Clearly, she’s not the brightest crayon in the box. Her appetizer consists of one cigar-sized eggroll, and the MOH has five good sized dumplings. They looked so hungry I wanted to laugh. My steak is delicious. I could barely finish it I was so full. I even had some leftover, but please note that I didn't take it back to the hotel.

We finished dinner around 10:00, and we had plans to head out to Mansion, which, apparently, is the place to be. Here’s the deal with Mansion: to get a table, you’ll need to buy a $100 bottle or pay a cover of $15. The Nazi is insistent on us getting a table, so that would be $20 for each of us (minus the BTB) to get the table. That’s not bad, especially since we originally thought we’d have to buy the $280 bottle. Also, the tables don’t come into effect until midnight, so we have a good hour and a half to two hours to wait for that. When we get to Mansion, the line is pretty short, so Jane suggests that we just wait in the line and see what happens first: midnight for the table, or getting in through the line.

Unfortunately, the Hustler store is right across the street, and the Nazi insists that we go in. So we do and have a good laugh at some of the stuff. While this is happening though, the line decides to grow. Very quickly. So Jill and Jane cross the street to grab a spot in line. In the meantime, I stick around the Hustler store to help hurry things along. Now, I’m no prude, but it’s kind of gross for me to be hearing about mothers’ sex lives.¹ Eventually, they get through the full tour, make a couple of purchases, and we’re out of there. After some confusion, the Nazi manages to get us in for free.²

Mansion goes pretty well. Again, we bought rounds for everyone, but the Nazi only bought rounds for the Moms. At this point we just ignore it and move on with the night. After Mansion, we go to a place rumored to have male strippers, but that doesn’t come through, and we head back to the hotel. That’s pretty much the end of Saturday.

¹ Especially when I’ve known one of them since I was six. You know how when you know someone for such a long time, they’re always at a certain age for you, no matter what happens? Well, she’s about sixteen in my head. So I’m kind of grossed out.

² Even though she’s annoying/stupid, I give her props for this. She’s quite good to have around for things you need to get done immediately. For example, the previous night, she managed to finagle a free bottle of champagne from the bartender.

ANOTHER ISSUE

The following section deals with both Friday and Saturday, but it would be too confusing to deal with this at the same time as everything else. The separation of the two groups was blamed on Jack. The accusation occurred while the BTB and I were a bit behind everyone else while walking towards Sushi Samba. Apparently, the Nazi felt like Jack was the only reason for everything. Because of this, she was also placing blame on Jill, moreso than on Jane or me. I was told about this right after we ordered at Santo, when Jill said she wanted to go outside for some air for a moment. She was quite ready to throw down some cash and go back to the hotel. After some reasoning and dealing with crying (so not my scene), I got her to come back into the restaurant.

Here’s the thing: Jack had no effect on any plans that we had. He didn’t make us late for anything. We weren’t forced to change anything because he didn’t like a place or he couldn’t get in. Everywhere we went (when he was around) he just followed us around. Basically, Jack and Jill are being blamed for the bumpiness of the trip simply because a boy is present for part of the time.

On the other hand, when the Nazi visited her aunt, it made her pretty late and we were forced to adjust all of our plans in waiting for her. This period (three hours) of waiting also influenced our decision to just get ready whenever we woke up and then meet up with the Moms later at the beach. We weren’t about to sit in the hotel waiting for another three hours while they watched the Disney channel.

CONCLUSION

I’ll say that I did have fun in Miami. When tension was being ignored it was quite the good time. Also, it was especially fun at Nikki Beach. Is it bad that the most fun was had when none of the Moms were present? (I don’t really care.) Was it worth the hundreds of dollars? I’m going to have to say no. If I spend $700 on a weekend, I expect everything to go well, or at least better than this. Now, if this was just the first two days of a longer trip, I’m sure things would have worked out much better.³

Here’s what I’ve learned:

• Mixing groups of friends is hard. But if you’re going to attempt it, be the bridge. The BTB didn’t do anything to keep everyone together, so it was natural for the groups to split.
• Keep the lateness to a minimum. A few minutes is fine, three hours is obscene.
• Heels are ridiculous.

³ Also, saving (certain) leftovers would make sense on a longer trip.