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Objects of Desire
Aug. 31st, 2004 03:01 pmSo, I went out Saturday night with some friends. First stop was to play some billiards, then had a salad and some hummus at Cafe Orlin.
From there we decided that dancing was a good idea. One fellow in the crowd recommended a place called Le Souk. I knew it was a Moroccan restuarant, but had no idea they also had a bar and dance space. Ooooh weeee. Houka (sp?) pipes all round. Middle eastern pop upstairs and contemporary pop downstairs. We were happy sweaty beasts. I got hit on by a half dozen Egyptian guys, including one rather cute and aggressive one who happened to be a dancer and a salesman. It was fun doing a bit of dancing and a bit of snogging, but he was definitely looking to show me how happy he was to meet me. Very happy from the feel of things.
After awhile, my friends and I decided to go to the downstairs bar for a rest. Earlier, we saw a woman dancing with a man, wearing a g-string and cowboy boots. It seemed the g-string didn't last the evening. That's right. She was in her birthday suit, apparently celebrating her birthday. None of us could look away, kind of like a car wreck. And it was amusing until she thought it a good idea to sit down on the couch next to my friend Jessica, still naked. 3am found it time for me to go home, remarkably refreshed from loads of water and only two drinks all night.
Today I sit contemplating my future. Tomorrow is orientation for my doctoral program. But I swear, there must be something wrong with me. For days I've been contemplating what to wear, whether or not to buy a big backpack, what South Beach Diet friendly snacks to bring... Only a few minutes ago does it occur to me "Maybe I should bring a notebook to take notes during orientation." Adolescent regression is cute sometimes, buuuuuut, maybe not for a doctoral student...
My boss has, however, encouraged me to consider getting a sturdy large leather backpack since the Eastpak and similar 'student backpacks' are so ugly. Ain't she great?! Even gave me some ideas on where to shop. Heh.
On a final note, waves to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mingbutterfly who I met for dinner last night. We had a lovely meal at Mara's Homemade (which some of you may recall is where I ate dinner for my birthday). After that we strolled along St. Mark's Place and I found hoop earrings for $3 and a new bead for my nosering for only $2!!! That was particularly pleasing considering another place near my office wanted to charge me $16 for a friggin' bead. Heck, at $2 a pop, I might go back and buy a few in different colours for back-up!
So, wish me luck tomorrow as I brave my way to school, past the :shudder: Republican National Convention. Gawd I want to stand in front of the convention location and scream DIE BUSH DIE!!! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA!. Thankfully there were tens of thousands of people in NYC on Sunday already doing just that and making a great front page photo op for the NYTimes. Phew! (Disclaimer: This does not constitute an actual wish for Bush to die. Just to no longer be in my city, and eventually no longer in office).
Ciao for now, babes.
From there we decided that dancing was a good idea. One fellow in the crowd recommended a place called Le Souk. I knew it was a Moroccan restuarant, but had no idea they also had a bar and dance space. Ooooh weeee. Houka (sp?) pipes all round. Middle eastern pop upstairs and contemporary pop downstairs. We were happy sweaty beasts. I got hit on by a half dozen Egyptian guys, including one rather cute and aggressive one who happened to be a dancer and a salesman. It was fun doing a bit of dancing and a bit of snogging, but he was definitely looking to show me how happy he was to meet me. Very happy from the feel of things.
After awhile, my friends and I decided to go to the downstairs bar for a rest. Earlier, we saw a woman dancing with a man, wearing a g-string and cowboy boots. It seemed the g-string didn't last the evening. That's right. She was in her birthday suit, apparently celebrating her birthday. None of us could look away, kind of like a car wreck. And it was amusing until she thought it a good idea to sit down on the couch next to my friend Jessica, still naked. 3am found it time for me to go home, remarkably refreshed from loads of water and only two drinks all night.
Today I sit contemplating my future. Tomorrow is orientation for my doctoral program. But I swear, there must be something wrong with me. For days I've been contemplating what to wear, whether or not to buy a big backpack, what South Beach Diet friendly snacks to bring... Only a few minutes ago does it occur to me "Maybe I should bring a notebook to take notes during orientation." Adolescent regression is cute sometimes, buuuuuut, maybe not for a doctoral student...
My boss has, however, encouraged me to consider getting a sturdy large leather backpack since the Eastpak and similar 'student backpacks' are so ugly. Ain't she great?! Even gave me some ideas on where to shop. Heh.
On a final note, waves to
mingbutterfly who I met for dinner last night. We had a lovely meal at Mara's Homemade (which some of you may recall is where I ate dinner for my birthday). After that we strolled along St. Mark's Place and I found hoop earrings for $3 and a new bead for my nosering for only $2!!! That was particularly pleasing considering another place near my office wanted to charge me $16 for a friggin' bead. Heck, at $2 a pop, I might go back and buy a few in different colours for back-up!So, wish me luck tomorrow as I brave my way to school, past the :shudder: Republican National Convention. Gawd I want to stand in front of the convention location and scream DIE BUSH DIE!!! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA!. Thankfully there were tens of thousands of people in NYC on Sunday already doing just that and making a great front page photo op for the NYTimes. Phew! (Disclaimer: This does not constitute an actual wish for Bush to die. Just to no longer be in my city, and eventually no longer in office).
Ciao for now, babes.
