Last night had me out on the town for the first time in LA. When I say out, I mean, of course, at a half empty gay bar in Silverlake. But so what if there was no one for me there? No one to psych myself up to talk to? To give a number to? To throw myself at mercilessly and scream, It's been three long weeks already! Please god anyone! Anything! Regardless of all this (i.e. expressed feelings of desperation which may or not be exaggerated), to enter an establishment that was not someone's dorm-style decorated home in Venice or Silverlake or whichever [heavily populated by young LA hipsters] neighborhood, was refreshing at the very least. Akbar, which LA.com underlines with subhead "Praise Allah for this friendly, mostly-gay gem," was indeed friendly and served up a stiffer drink than a girl who's not gonna get any needs in her. So, were this a bar review, which it is not, but rather a review of me and my life (let's not lose focus here), I would give it a 7, at least for a Tuesday night (7 out of what, I don't know). I'd go back again for quick intoxicification purposes alone. And to be oblique, the new girl in town is gonna fare a lot better, make a lot more lasting friends, and wake up with a tad more dignity in the morning, if she sticks with the gay crowd. Talk to me in a month, of course, and I might be climbing ivy outside of a straight club to catch a glimpse of potential suitors inside, but I [and my hormones] are in check for now...unless you have someone you'd like to set me up with in which case I'm all a go.
On the subject of datelessness, I've miraculously won something for the first time in my young life and don't even have a partner in crime to enjoy the winnings with. Through Flavorpill, a great newsletter of events (listing mostly musical acts and djs I'd rather not listen too, but great all the same for their offering of free and moderately priced happenings in various cities), I've won tickets to see The Decembrists tonight and I have no one to bloody take with me. Now, that's really sad when a person can't even give something away--that's how few friends she's got. Well, to hell with self-pity--you'll see me there alone if I can't find a taker. I'll be the one in the back with the hoodie, the notebook and the incessant scribbling. That's right--if I'm going alone, then consider me faux press for the evening. No one judges a reporter for heading out alone.
Well, should you have a friend in LA who likes the Decembrists (I've never even heard them) and is free for this evening, let me know. If he/she wants to drive, even better. If you send a cute, straight young male my way, there are extra bonus points and a whole lotta love coming your way.
Kisses * Jessie