Drunken Partygirl, here yet again.

I announced to Gingi that I was heading out to Day 14 of the bender tonight, when she reminded me that at the party last night, I didn't drink. That's right. I went to a chi-chi party with open bar and I drank Diet Coke. With no alcohol. I'm crazy like that. Sometimes I bench myself.

Tonight I got right back on the bandwagon, drinking mohijtos with friend from work and getting bombed at a swanky spot on the Upper West Side. Hey Slutboy and Poz, before I forget, for me, The Upper West counts as leaving the island. That place is Haiti to me. Filled with foreigners...

Incubus is playing on the radio and I must note how much I adore Brandon Boyd and at the same time give a shout out to my girl Jill Scott, who is all that is beautiful and inspiring in music today. Good God, she opens her mouth and if I close my eyes and listen, I hear Ella with a twist of Maya Angelou and it makes me lightheaded to hear her poetry.

Friend and I met D. and her secret, invisible English beau. He's great. Love him! They left and we went to another spot until we were overrun with snotty Columbia coeds with gold cards and no manners. Friend loudly complained about frat boys waving their plastic over our heads at the bar, but I was distracted, because I ran into this guy when I stood up to go to the ladies room. Remember him?

I do. He's the only guy to ever ditch me. Mainly because I usually get out first. But fuck if he wasn't there and by the time I saw him, it was too fucking late to run and hide like I normally would, so I straightened up and pushed through the crowd past him.

Fuck.

He must teach at Columbia now. Or maybe he dates someone there or maybe he taking masters classes, although, he already had two masters... who cares. He was there and I saw him and I think he may have seen me and when I returned from the bathroom he was gone.

Friend wanted to search for him; she's such a good connie friend! She wanted me to go up to him and be like, "Hey! It's so good to see you!? Hey - are we still going to see Pollack???" and be all freaky-like pretending no time had passed. I found that amusing, but really, why bother?

He's gone, I've moved on and frankly, why force something that's not there? Why should someone feel bad for not liking someone else? God knows I've dropped people.

We left the kegger for kiddies and hit another bar. Our third for the night. Friend had already started drinking scotch on the rocks. Friend doesn't fuck around. Friend looks like Dylan McDermott's wife, Shiva Rose - in case you are interested. Not that you have a chance, since she lives with her super punk rock BF, Benicio. He gets Benicio del Toro a lot so that's what I call him. Friend and Benicio are getting engaged sometime in the future and friend asked me to be a bridesmaid - how fun is that?!? Friend is real fun. We haven't even known each other very long but since she moved here and I called five's on her, we've been fast friends and she asked me to be a bridesmaid. She brought it up again tonight. I said "Bring it ON!" - and so the deal was made. Plus, friend knows that I'm down so if she ever had to cut me, I'm not the girlie girl that would freak if plans changed. Life's too short. I just want to rock that wedding because it's going to be F-U-N.

Anyway, we were talking about friend's BF and what his book signing party will be like. He's a writer. He's a got a GREAT book in him we think. Friend and I were thinking how we would lick all of the literary critics when they came in and tried to Euro kiss us, per an idea that Spanklin gave me last night. We would just be loaded and tear it up and wreak havoc. But then we realized that Benicio will truly wreak the havoc so we have nothing to worry about.

I realized that friend is Marcia Gay Harden in Pollack and told her. She said, "Friend! That is soooooo tragic - it's not that bad." So I retracted my statement said, agreed but felt she should use the film as an observation for what could happen. She said, "Friend! Benicio knows moderation." This made me spit out my drink, because really they are a tame version of Sid and Nancy. Crazy kids. I love 'em!

My friend T., who's baby I was second in line to deliver, reminded me today that she wants me married this year. She and her husband have decided it's time. They've had it with my fickleness. They worry about me. I need a caretaker. They may be right. I sense blind dates coming on. And they are supported by our gay friends C. and M. who are concerned that my bad behavoir and clumsiness are going to leave me like Elizabeth Taylor, single and frail - falling and breaking bones. That's what they told me. They want me married so I can carry their baby.

The gay boys have decided I need a boyfriend and/or husband. They have set me loose. It's a lot of pressure. The pressure to deliver a cool boyfriend that can hang and that I like too.

It's pretty hardcore. Everybody's got plans for me. Meanwhile, I am thinking Peace Corps. Bailing to a third world nation to build some huts, teach some kids and figure out what the hell I'm here on earth to do.

Legacy, ain't it a bitch?

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