Um...Hmmm

Being that it's Monday, I feel like I should have loads of fun tales to regale you all with concerning my weekend. As a sometimes wild and crazy single gal, I almost feel as if I am required to maintain my rep and have something to entertain you all with. But the truth is, my weekend was shockingly sane and quiet. And blissfully so. I not once stumbled out of a bar at closing time, carried on in any manner that might undermine my ladylike-ness, woke up with a pounding headache and a sense of dread, or spent any moment of the weekend regretting any of my actions. This is not to say that fun wasn't had, because it certainly was. Just in a very low-key kind of way.

Friday evening was spent in the company of Scarlett at the Lucky Bar over 7 and 7's and Jack and Gingers. We both remarked that with the smoking ban in effect Lucky Bar carried the definite aroma of empanadas wafting in from Julia's next door. It was kind of nice. As is typical of S and me, conversation eventually drifted to men and dating, wherein I came to a new conclusion regarding my attitude towards dating in the new year. Rather than maintaining my previously jaded and at times embittered outlook on the practice, I am resolving that 2007 will mark the official "return to sweetness." Let it now be known that in 2007, Hey Pretty is granting new meaning to previously overlooked actions like holding hands and first kisses. Although I've done a remarkably good job on developing self restraint in the hook-up department, this year I intend to take it a step closer. Dating will now mean "courtship", which in my book implies a certain propensity towards taking things slow, holding off on intimacy, etc, etc. Essentially, I think it would be nice if things like holding hands and kissing meant something, rather than standing as they do now in the hazy blur between "hello" and "sorry I never called, my pet parakeet died and I've been too sick with mourning to attempt human interaction." Male readers out there may interpret this as being a tease, and if that's the case, then oh well. I've been at this long enough that I'm learning to disregard that whole slut/tease dichotomy anyway. It's a myth, and we should all start treating it as such.

Anyway, we left LB around 11:00 and I was home (sober) before 11:30.

Saturday, I saw the Painted Veil with E2. As much as I enjoyed the film, the previews built it up to be a bit more dramatic than it actually was. Rather than reaching a dramatic peak, the story stretched out quietly and enjoyably and ended on a quiet, bittersweet, yet satisfying note. I'd say that the main reasons to see it would be the performances by Edward Norton and Naomi Watts, as well as the lush, green cinematography.

Later, I flew solo to a party, which was a somewhat challenging experience for me. I'm used to bringing a safety with me, somebody to talk to should the company at the party be lacking, preferably somebody more outgoing than myself who is better suited to making small talk with strangers should the need arise. But I was feeling brave, so I acted as my own safety. The party was fine, although I think I was the only non-CIA person there, evidenced by a variety of factors including some people with some odd social skills and a dodgy manner about discussing their work (why they didn't just claim to work for State like every other CIA person I've met in DC is beyond me. I've come to suspect that nobody actually works for State given the number of times it has proven to be a cover. Anyhoo). I've stated this many times and I will state it again: as an introvert, I often find other people exhausting. Especially strangers. Therefore, I had no qualms about leaving the party at 11 pm. It was a shame to waste the pretty (I was wearing a sheer black retro-looking blouse over a black camisole and jeans, but more significantly I had spent close to an hour flat-ironing my hair to pin-straight. I was quite the stunner if I do say so myself). But alas, prettiness in and of itself is no reason to aimlessly wander the streets of DC looking for action, so I hailed myself a cab and found my way home. At home I discovered a thrilling new fact: Saturday Night Live is funny again. I wonder if I'm the last to know this. I was quite pleased to discover this fact, and began to contemplate a whole new social life marked by being home on Saturdays in time to watch it. Tempting, very tempting.

The rest of the weekend was spent in the movies (Little Children), dining at Clyde's, fruitlessly trying to upload more photos to my flickr account, and reading a really good book.

See? Totally sane, marked by the enjoyment of art and literature, looked pretty, got lots of rest. I'm sure I'll feel a need to do something stupid in a week or two, but so far, this whole 2007 thing ain't so bad. I'm sorry 2007, I take back all the bad stuff I said about you earlier.