For two years, June 26th was always a special day. It was the day The Dude and I considered our anniversary, because it was the day we met randomly at a Starbucks downtown. But today? It's just a reminder of how life keeps on rolling past, and that I'm still struggling to keep up.
I went out Saturday evening for A Single Girl's 30th birthday bash. She started the night with a birthday party cocktail type event at Dirty Martini. Knowing that we'd be starting early (5:30) and going late (planning to end the night with dancing on U Street), I had a plan of attack. I was all set to limit myself to 2 cocktails at Dirty Martini, followed by dinner, and then 4 drinks max the rest of the evening. Oh, it's just so silly to try to make plans like that, isn't it?
Following the two hours at Dirty Martini, A Single Girl was having dinner with her family, before we were all to meet up on U Street. I was planning to get dinner somewhere in Dupont with Cupcakes and Shoes and DateMeDC. But somehow, Cupcakes and I found ourselves seated at the bar, opting to forego dinner at Thai Chef when we learned DateMeDC was running late, laughing and making friends with the two lonely bartenders. It was a weird time for a Saturday evening - between 8 pm and 10 pm, the place was fairly empty. And the bartenders liked us. So, we did what any smart, flirty city girls would do in our shoes. We laughed, flirted, tossed our hair, and drank for free that entire time! Oh, and we were given carte blanche to eat the cocktail olives! That was my dinner. Ten cocktail olives.
It seems like such a good idea, right?
At the time, we were having a blast. We thought we were hilarious with each joke we told and the bartenders seemed to love us. Really, I think they might just have loved that they had two idiotic girls to try out different drink concoctions on, but who knows. I lost count how many drinks they made us. There were a few cocktails, and several shooters, including a couple of these we were able to try.
Aren't those little champagne shot glasses so dang cute??
We did make it out to Saint Ex later in the evening, meeting up with A Single Girl and her out-of-town friends from college. We danced downstairs in the dark, sweaty mass of bodies and were hit on by a group of married men. In the light of day, I should be a teeny bit annoyed with them. But at the time, it was just silly and fun. I like to think we entertained them, laughing and swatting them away as we noticed their rings.
After that, the night is pretty clear for me, but not really worth mentioning. We were all sloppy and should have gone home earlier. But it was a fun night full of drunken debauchery, and even 30-something's need those nights occasionally.
I woke up this morning and realized the date. And I was grumpy anyway, feeling hungover and slightly depressed as a result of having all that alcohol in my system. But I drug myself out of bed and managed to get in to work before noon. I've mentioned before that I've been doing contract work since being laid off in March, and that basically means that I work whenever they tell us we can, because I never know when the project might end and I'll be unemployed again.
Turns out, June 26th is a great day for a project to end. The assholes-with-no-concern-for-people-who'd-like-to-plan-their-lives-more-than-a-day-in-advance came in around 1 pm and told us the project would be ending tonight. We were welcome to stay until 8 pm on a Sunday to bill, but everyone needed to collect their belongings and drop off their keys when they left. And then those same assholes patted themselves on the back for giving us so much notice. I mean, gee, we were told this project would last 6-12 weeks and this is only week THREE. Call me crazy, but I don't consider that a lot of notice. Nonetheless, one associate actually said, "I mean, we could have come in at 6 pm to tell you, guys." Yes, thank you so, so much. You deserve a fucking gold star. You are a model human being.
Sigh. Go easy on me, June 26th.
I really believe that positive thinking brings about positive things. I really do try to be positive, I promise. I try to go out and have fun and live life and do my best not to sit at home and mope. I try to be a good friend to others, supporting and helping whenever I can. I swear, I really am a good person, who deserves good things in her life. And so I try to keep reminding myself that this just life and that I just have to keep plugging along. Eventually, eventually, all my good deeds and positive thinking and ability to just keep mucking through the shit are going to pay off and I'm going to be swimming in good fortune ...