Boy, do I have some Tales to Tell...
Sunday, March 21, 2004
 
This weekend was another indication of how old I am getting. On Friday night, I went out dancing to Opaline with my friend and fellow Step Aerobics instructor John. We had fun starting at dinner and all the way into dancing. The crowd at Opaline was quite young. At one point, John and I wondered out loud if some of them had even sprouted pubic hair; but I digress. There were really quite some cuties but to be honest, if I were single and looking to hook up, I would have to ask for two forms of ID before I did anything. That statuatory rape charge is a bitch to get rid of.

We did go home before 2:00am because both of us had to teach. I, of course, woke up by 7:00am even though I did not have to teach until 10:30am. I taught class until Noon and then headed for to work at the wine store until 9:30pm. At one point, I had intention of hanging out with my coworker Paul. His brother and his cute friends were in town and they were going out to watch the SU game at a local bar. For about 10 seconds I was convinced I was meeting them for the night to go hang all because of the cute 19 year old. Then, I thought carefully and decided that I would be better off going home and drinking the bottle of Rivendell Dry Riesling than going out to some bar with some underage cutie who has probably never hung out with a nasty queen like me.

When I got up Sunday morning, I had full intentions of going to go lift, back and biceps. I was so exhausted that I rolled over and went back to sleep. I woke up about two hours later with this slight body ache from being out all weekend. I got up, called a couple of friends, had brunch, shopped for new shoes, visited friends at a store, came home, and passed out on the couch for a couple of hours. I am so tired, I have started drinking wine so that I can sleep soundly. Okay, that is just an excuse to drink wine. God, I am old.

If you are wondering where my boyfriend is, he is in London for a week on business. I miss him so much, I have small crying spells. God, not only am I old, I am pathetic. Later.
 
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Eating up the City before it eats me up. I'm a freelance cook who spends his free time working out, cooking for "my man", and wondering why the Right is so concerned about my bedroom.

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