Another decade, another blog.

There are worse ways to start off a new decade than with sentimental ramblings born out of a red wine-induced stupor.

Following a rather brutal afternoon (as in, finding out via text message that my crush has a girlfriend), last night was all that and then some. I was cranky and pissed off during the preparations for our big night out, and while the awesome makeup job done at the Shiseido counter at Nordstroms had marginally improved my gloomy outlook, there was still a forecast of showers.

Three hours and a quick dinner of Swedish meatballs later, we arrived at the Columbia Tower in downtown Seattle. As we watched a 50-something year old man in a white tuxedo attempt to get down with an Asian woman in a non-descript prom dress, my first impression when we walked in the room was “Oh my God, what have I gotten myself into?” I warned my friend Ms. X (we’re still trying to decide her blog moniker) that I was going to be snarky that evening. However, I slowly relaxed and decided that I might as well have fun.

Which I did. There were approximately 2.3 attractive, single men in the room. One of them was my friend’s friend’s brother (we’ll call him Not Dave) and the other we’ll call High School Boyfriend. Not Dave had started the evening off by attempting to hit on a Ukrainian woman who introduced herself by asking if he was Jewish, and then proceeded to tell him she liked circumcised men. I later saw her in the ladies room showing off pretty much all she had going for her to a few other women, explaining that “They are pricey, but totally worth it…” in a Slavic accent.

High School Boyfriend (clean cut but a little rough around the edges, kind of like how you’d imagine your 18-year-old sweetheart ten years later) kept checking me out from the table next to ours and Ms. X “double dog dared” me to pounce on him. I didn’t (in fact, I spent most of the night purposefully ignoring him), but at the end of the evening I informed him “You should have asked me to dance.” To which he conceded, “You’re right. I should have asked you to dance.”

Since High School Boyfriend never did get around to asking me to dance, and since Not Dave’s attempt at hitting on the voluptuous Ukrainian were thwarted by her rather large boyfriend, he and I ended up ringing in the new year by locking ourselves in someone’s office, a romantic interlude that lasted about five minutes until we were rudely interrupted by someone flipping on the lights. We didn’t actually get caught, but it was still kind of hot…

Then we had one of those awkward “attempt-to-get-to-know-the-drunken-stranger-you’re-snogging” conversations. I asked Not Dave if he knew anything about me, which he countered by asking if I knew anything about him. To which I rather smoothly replied, “I know that you are somebody’s sister!”…Let’s just say it was the red wine talking…What I really meant to say was, “I know that you HAVE a sister…”

We were at the point where it was clearly a much better idea to keep making out than to try and hold an intelligent conversation, and then it was time to make the walk of shame back to my friends and Not Dave’s sister who were waiting with our coats…

At least the last night of 2009 gave me plenty of blog fodder to start off the first day of 2010 with a bang…

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