Ladies night and phallic entertainment

It was a girl’s night out in Belltown for Abby’s birthday. Since I will soon be the last unattached gal in my crowd, this centered more on chick bonding then boy hunting. So be it, I shall man wrangle solo.

The quality girl time evolved copious amounts of delicious food and wine, embarrassing our waiter with unabashedly frank relationship experiences and finishing up the evening with rooftop cigars.

I’ve never taken to smoking, which is just as well since I have enough vices. The cigars were fun though; perhaps because inhaling is discouraged. The mental image of me hanging out with stogy is particularly hilarious, so I don’t see this becoming a habit even without the prohibitions of cost and poor health. I could however attempt a badass demeanor at my next poker game. It might distract from the incredibly uneven play and nonexistent poker face.

Abby's shot of us prepped to hit the town turned out far better than my fuzzy, cam phone rooftop attempt at the end of the night.

Night out in Belltown

Cigars on they roof for Ab's birthday

Incredible shrinking woman

The newly discovered passion for soccer, combined with birthday plans in Mexico involving a lot of beach time, has resulted in exercise and fitness becoming a top priority for me. If this had kicked in sooner maybe I would be more successfully burning up the singles scene, but I’ll have to contend myself with just being toned at 30. So far the scale is refusing to budge in the numbers game, but it would seem that some inches of me have gone missing. To wit, this last weekend I was able to resurrect a pile of clothes that had been given up for lost.

My closet cleaning process is a long one, and it doesn’t happen nearly often enough. If something doesn’t fit, yet I still like it, it gets relocated to a drawer or box in the closet, so as to stop taunting me with its current unsuitable state. Then after some unknown period of time, these hidden garments are revisited to test once again for fit. Generally, there is no coming back from exile. On the rare occasion it has occurred, the triumph of once again fitting into the garment is tempered by it being hopelessly out of fashion.

I am reticent to do much clothing shopping until the desired birthday size is achieved, so this interim infusion of slightly used but not hopelessly outdated clothes is a welcome break from just embracing the baggy look. Not as much fun as buying all new stuff, but satisfying all the same. Plus, I’m shrinking! Yay!