So, I have been spending a lot of time staring into the void these days, because, you know, there’s a recession, so what else are you gonna do, right? but I emerged from my endless ponderings of the abyss this weekend and thank goodness I did, because here is what happened:
I had a birthday, or something! And lots of people came over with wine and cake and muffins and tiny pies on Friday night and then we went dancing at this place that was like The Dance Cave if the Dance Cave was pretending to be in Soviet Russia and only played 80s music, and then we went to the sex shop in the middle of the night and made fun of the outrageous nipple clamps in the clearance section.
And then yesterday night was a thrilling tour of Los Angeles kitsch: dinner at Clifton’s (quote of the night, from the lovely Ms. Lindsay: “There is something crunchy in my spinach. I think it might be sand.”), and then a show at the Bob Baker Marionette Theatre (which I am not even going to try to describe to you – you will just have to come visit me and we will go there, and if you alreadly live in LA and haven’t gone there, then we will go immediately because it is a magical, magical place) and then drinks at Tiki Ti, where I had something called a Space Pilot. (OMG SPACE!)
And here is my theory about Tiki Ti because it is such a weird place:
Most of the patrons at the Tiki Ti were (seemingly heterosexual) men, drinking exceptionally girly drinks, because they only serve ridiculous tropical drinks at this place because they apparently don’t believe in beer and wine (seriously). And my theory is that dudes are able to drink girly drinks at Tiki Ti without their masculinity feeling threatened because they are in a space that represents the conquest of the exotic, feminized other, thereby reaffirming their masculinity and making it ok for them to drink things that are blue and served in a daquiri glass with half a pineapple in it. Probably, though, we should really begin this discussion with a deconstruction of the gendering of the girly drink, because, really, what makes them girly in the first place?
MORAL OF THE STORY: Graduate students should not be allowed to go to novelty bars.
I know of a particular sadsack that only drank girly drinks until recently. I’m pretty sure that, if given the choice, he’d still rather something with an umbrella in it.
You didn’t tell me the Tiki Ti was part of your B-day celebrations! I feel so out of it!
I missed your birthday!! I’m sorry.
I am a sucky Canadian soul-mate.
Which sadsack? Which sadsack? Actually, I have a pretty good idea of which sadsack.
The Tiki Ti trip was a very spur-of-the-moment decision on the part of Nikki and myself – we hadn’t exactly planned to end up there.
I STILL LOVE YOU, SUCKY CANADIAN SOUL MATE.