Weekend Edition

Ahhh weekends. They have come to be so important to me that it's reminiscent of high school. While I still enjoy work (most of the time), the honeymoon period is certainly over and I am more often than not thrilled when Friday rolls along. Last weekend started off with a bang, as I and two of my girlfriends decided to have a girl's night out. Upon hearing this, a guy in my office (the one who "knows" someone or something about any and every thing) offered up his advice as to clubs we should attend. Turns out this time, his connections were for real. He called his friend (this is around 7 PM in the office) to find out what club was "going off" that night. The conversation went a little like this:

Hey dude, so what's going off tonight?
(Pause)
Girls. I'm sending some chicks your way.
(Pause)
No, no. Like... a new-to-LA level type of thing. Nothing too crazy.
(Crap, there goes my chance to attend a coke party)

He then proceeds to tell me to go to a place called Opera, and say we're friends of Ryan, it's his list. But that if the guy at the door has a blonde afro, that's Ryan. So we should then say that Greg sent us. So I go home, shower, get all dolled up, and arrive at my friend's place where they are getting dolled up. We all help doll each other up, borrow some jewelry from the awesomely crazy Latina lady across the hall, take a few shots of tequila to get the ball rolling, and head to the car.

We get to the club, pay 20 bucks to park (blech) and see blonde-afro guy at the door. "Greg sent us." Blonde Afro likes my friend's outfit (she's wearing an oversize men's white shirt with a belt as a dress). OK, we get in for free, and cut the line. Awesome. In the club, which is pretty cool, we immediately get hit on. And we immediately get more drinks. The night is spent dancing, drinking, more tequila shots with more strange guys (mostly non-white), almost getting into a fight with some Persian chick, me stealing a plastic carafe that they had out with OJ in it, and falling asleep on the couch after eating the most delicious grilled cheese sandwich and bowl of clam chowder in my life. Success. And, as usual, I am useless for the entirety of the next day.

This past weekend was equally as exciting but for far different reasons. Friday night I hung out with Jon and some friends of his visiting from DC. We went out for delicious sushi and when we got back, one of the guys brought out a plate of sliced lemons and limes and a small dish with pink pills. I am immediately skeptical. Then I see the wrapper with what looks like Chinese writing and the words "Mysterious Fruit Pills." I am now only mildly skeptical. But I'm pretty sure it's not E. So that's good. Turns out these are CRAZY little pills that you let dissolve on your tongue, and they somehow mess with your taste-buds so when you eat bitter/sour things like lemons and limes, they taste deliciously sweet. It's freaky, but amazingly cool.

The next day they call to ask if I want to come to the firing range. Um, yes. If you know anything about me, you know I LOVE GUNS. In a completely innocent, would never kill anything, non-freaky way. So about 1 PM, we head over to LAX Firing Range, rent a couple of lanes and a couple of guns, buy some .9mm ammo and shoot up a storm. I was nervous at first because even though I've shot guns before, they were .22 rifles so have much less of a kick. But ohmygosh. We shot Berettas and Sig Sauers and one guys rented a .45mm handgun as well. It was great until some other guys came in with what looked and sounded like bazookas and started making a racket. I also got hit on by a pair of dudes who offered to let me try their gun, but I politely declined. Unclear of what the protocol is at a firing range... And don't worry, it was all safe. But I did get burned on my boob when a casing fell down my shirt and got stuck in my bra. I have a nice burn mark to show for it, but I'm telling people I got shot.

Then yesterday I went for a llloooonnnggg hike in Griffith Park with two of my friends, getting as close as is legally possible to the Hollywood sign. If it wasn't for the arrest, I'd totally pay the $103.00 fine to get my pic taken in one of the "O"'s! Well, maybe not right now, because later on that day, my car was towed. $250.00 and a ride to to towing lot later, I got her back. But seriously, $250.00 dollars!!?? I HATE LA parking. Hate it. But I'm trying to let it go.

So anyway, it was an eventful weekend. I watched the series finale of Dawson's Creek and sobbed. Went to bed all depressed that it was over. But, the world is finally right again because.... JOEY PICKED PACEY!!!! Thank gosh, because honestly, if she hadn't, I would have written a very angry email to the WB aka the CW and/or left a very rude voicemail. So at least that saved me some time and energy. Because really, I don't wanna wait, for my life to be over, I want to know RIGHT NOW - What will it be?