A Fresh Start

I haven't visited my blog since my official last semester of college ended. After spending the last 36 hours reading other peoples blogs and having found all this new free time on my hands, I decided I could use a creative outlet of my own. Alas, this will (hopefully) be more of a rant page than anything else. I'm keeping my fingers crossed it will be one people will find humorous, bet we'll see.

My most recent exploits have been those involving my roommate and I watching indulgent amounts of Gossip Girl, traipsing my rather unstylish ass in and out of The City and finding that free time is the bane of my existence. That's not counting last weekend when one of my oldest friends (OF's?) Niky came to visit and managed to embarrass herself at the local college bar by attempting to jump over the bar stools only to crash into the wall successfully eating plaster and making all the jappy bimbos laugh. And let's forget about when I inappropriately hit on a friend of mine who I wouldn't want ever at the bar because... well, I've been bored.

I went in to the city early Friday morning for my interview and managed to work my way south throughout the day. By the evening we were back in midtown for dinner at this Mexican place Cancun (clever I know) and needless to say the night went on as another (OF) friend of mine Jon had to go home while his girlfriend shrieked at him on the phone leaving me with his two roommates Tom and Ali and Tom's boyfriend Joe whose birthday it was. So I ended up attending a cabaret show at this place called The Gentleman's Club but not before drinking 5 dollar drinks called "Hurricane's" at a place called The Bourbon Street something-or-other which promised to "bring back Katrina" I kid you not. From the cabaret place we rode in the craziest black suv version of the Knight Bus from Harry Potter to get down to West Village and this bar called Marie's Crisis which really is a gay dive bar where gay men of all shapes and sizes drink and crowd around a piano man while belting out show tunes to their hearts content. The night ended a few blocks away at Caliente because Joe was dancing at Marie's Crisis and when he was warned once to stop he asked if he could at least bop to which the bartender replied, "No, we only have a cabaret license." Needless to say we got back to Queens at 3:40am and despite my feeling of abandonment by Jon and frustration from having spent too much money on a friend of a friends' boyfriend who I don't know, it makes for a great story.

I came to two conclusions this weekend. One, you'll never find a man if the only bars you go to are gay bars. You might find a best gay, but you definitely won't find a sugar daddy. Two, I'd rather live in New York than most anywhere else, because at least there I can pretend to live out my Gossip Girl dream.