T h e A d v e n t u r e s o f C h i c a g o J o
Why I was Late to Work Today
|2006-05-01 – 4:28 p.m.|
This weekend has left me a sleepy, sleepy woman.
On Thursday night I sent out an email to 15 girl friends in the city to see who wanted to hit up happy hour. A group of 6 were willing and able, so I left work early on Friday to grab a table. A good time was had by all, and the group split for a bit to get some things done.
Since I had no plans, a few people came back to my place for a beer and so I could switch out my work purse for something smaller. Much giggling ensued, as it happens when several beers are consumed and you get a few friends together.
We headed up north to a friend’s house where we all split a bottle of vodka and watched old episodes of In Living Color, trying to get a glimpse of how J-Lo looked back in the day. She was only in snippets, but I enjoyed seeing Jim Carey, the Wayans, and Jamie Foxx from way back when.
Once the vodka well ran dry, we headed to some bar. When that one closed, we headed to another. When that one closed, I jumped into a taxi, drunk dialed a friend, and headed home.
I woke up entirely too early, but I had an 11 a.m. hair appointment that required that I not look or smell like I drank for twelve hours the previous night.
I showed up both looking and smelling presentable, got my hair cut, caught up with my awesome stylist, and then walked around the area until brunch with my girl friends.
During that walking around, I hit up a thrift store and walked out with three skirts. One of those skirts was Ann Taylor brand, 100% silk, and a whopping $1. Gotta love the random $1 tag days!
Brunch was a blast, even though we got the stoned waitress again. This woman walks around in a daze and always forgets stuff. However, before you can finish chewing your last bite, she removes your plate with the speediness of a ninja. It’s pretty funny, though. If nothing else, we get a good laugh out of her antics.
The weather felt nice (although a few splatters of rain fell here and there), so I hit up a few more stores with one brunch friend until I was all shopped out. I came home and ran into my neighbor for probably the fifth time in the year that he’s lived there. He invited me in for a beer, and one beer turned into 3-4 beers, delivered dinner, and four hours of hanging out while we both should have been doing other stuff.
By time the hour got late, it was time for me to head back out for a friend’s b-day party. However, instead of staying out until nearly 4:30, I cut it out early and stayed out until 3:30.
I awoke at 8 the next morning, but I couldn’t get or stay comfortable long enough to get back to sleep, so I ran some errands around my neighborhood. After making a few returns, unsuccessfully shopping for some jewelry and shoes, and battling the rain, I finally made lunch at 1:30, worked out for a bit, and then took a nap.
I certainly didn’t want to wake up when my alarm went off, but I forced myself to go to chorus practice.
With this next show happening during the summer, the people choosing to do the show are a lot different than those who were in the previous show. A couple of my more favorite people stayed, so that’s always nice. I emailed one of my favorites about practice, and it looks like he’ll be coming from now on. Whee!
Something funny: Last night we had a brief mixer where people brought snacks and soda, and everyone sat around for about an hour and caught up on what went on that week. Looking at the spread, there was no doubt that the contributors were men.
Three packets of grocery store sushi. A bucket of fried chicken. A bag of chips. Cookies galore.
This reminded me of our show where I helped with makeup, introduced many to the wonder of eye makeup removed, gave tips on bra buying for those who dressed in drag, and got plenty of off looks when I wet a facials cloth and proceeding to froth it up for cleansing, exfoliating, and moisturizing all in one.
Gay or not, they’re still men.
I really do love that about my chorus. Sure there are the occasional diva moments, some catty gossip here and there, and plenty displays of body glitter. But all in all, these are men who just happen to like other men.
This also reminds me of something else that crossed my mind last Thursday as I was sending out my happy hour email. Since the year began, I’ve met some amazing people. Were you to ever suggest several months ago that I’d send an email for an impromptu happy hour to fifteen women, I wouldn’t believe you. And were you to say that I’d know about thirty gay men pretty well, you’d get the same bewildered look from me.
As far as people who pull their shit together and maximize what they’ve got to work with, I definitely excel.
So let me say it: I love my life!