Lentils and Rice, and Everything Nice.

Last night the partner and I went to the local gay bar with another new faculty member. I rather like this new faculty member, as we have similar areas of (academic) interest and because we both chose to remain in the dirty and dark section of the bar, (think rave, c. 1994) as opposed to the other room that was playing more mainstream dance tunes (think MJ, c. Beat It).

In the latter section there was much more of the "oh god, I am in a gay bar" boy-clutching-hand-of-girl (oh god, what if one of them hits on me/Why aren't they hitting on me?) going on, whereas in former section it was more of a sweaty free-for-all. While partner and new friend evaluated the yokel gay population, I chose to hit the dance floor so I could show off my lack of skill and style. Considering I was suffering from periodic cramps that caused an involuntary doubling over in pain (whoever thought up the phrase "being a girl rocks" to sell tampons deserves to be subjected to some kind of punishment...think: "PCU" and the scene where the administration is locked in the room with the same horrible song on repeat) I am sure that I have secured/ruined my reputation as a credible person to converse with, henceforth. I guess that is ok, seeing how I wasn't there looking for a 'connection' or a 'commitment' of any sort, but, as I have learned, being prepared is a good motto to live by.

Note to self: midol next time.

This morning the partner and I realized that we have one whole dollar left to our name. Whoops. I guess we should have saved the ten dollars we spent on the cover charge and used it on groceries. Another two weeks of lentils and rice, no spices. Yum.