I am feeling sick. Hungover sick. The sad part? I only had two beers and a shot last night. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. But I am.

I spent all day yesterday looking forward to midnight. I got all dolled up and went downtown to a show–which was so pretentious buzz indie rock that I was suffocating soberly in a room filled with drunken hipsters. At midnight, some gentleman friends of mine took me to a bar for a drink.

A cold, fizzy beer thrilled my lips more than any part of any male has probably ever done. I finished the beer and it was time to move on to another bar down the street. And everyone there was SO HIP. No, I don’t mean to sound like a sarcastic b*tch, but I just loathe walking into any place where people stare me down because they’re trying to figure out WHO I am. It’s so L.A. and I wish that kind of stuff would just stay in L.A.

After waiting for the bartender to attend to my off the wagon needs for twenty minutes…I was really starting to wonder what all of the fuss was about. All of that ridiculous waiting while the sad looking hippie girl, who undoubtedly thought she was the one who invented dangling earrings, was elbowing me in the boob…it all seemed a little silly for a simple PBR. Read More »