Austin's Lesbo BBQ

I returned from Houston earlier today...my friend's wedding was quite nice...all elegant and stuff. Candles, classical music and anything else you could ask for. Oh yeah. Bells. Lots of bells. The only thing that was missing, that I could think of, was a dove...or a possibly even a flock of them, for that matter.

Other than the pure elegance, I also got to experience a bit of a high school reunion...and all the awkwardness that comes with it. I was able to talk to some really old-school friends...and then be hit on by them...as smarmy as they all were.

Apparently, the one time a year that I can be found donning heels and skirt is enough to bring in my yearly quota for male attention. Ok. For sure, I know that not all guys are sleazy...nor are they as un-tactful as their representatives that I encountered this weekend are...but, in case you guys didn't know, it's not suave to slap a girl on her ass or to otherwise try to grab her when she's not paying attention. Not so cool. This won't generally get you a second date. I am speaking generally, of course...it depends on what kind of girl you're looking for...Granted, I am the kind of girl who probably wouldn't be dating a guy to begin with, so maybe I'm a bad representative for the female sex.

But, besides the overall shadow of sleaziness, my weekend was good. I spent the remainder of my Sunday afternoon eating, napping and, finally, hitting the bar.

During the early stages of my evening, I decided to cook a turnip. I bought this vegetable out of pure curiosity. I mean, we've all heard of them, but how many of us can actually say that we've eaten one? This alone baffled me. I've never personally heard anything about a gourmet turnip dish or even Mom's homemade turnip special....and there's a reason for this: They taste like ass. Imagine eating a bit of mashed, slightly rotten cauliflower...and you'll have a cooked and prepared turnip. I suggest taking my word for it...turnips are best avoided.

The rest of my night was fairly typical. I checked my hideous work schedule, watched some TV and then bar-ed it up. My intention at the bar was pretty simple: to drink A beer and say 'hi' to bartender...of course, my best intentions never seem to surface. Sooooo...I managed to indulge in five beers, be hit on, yet once again, (this time was a little more settling, seeing that I was in civilian clothing) and realize that my goals of going home early and resting up will never be met.

So it goes.

# posted by themellenhead @ 1:27 AM