So Sarah and Ashley and two of their housemates and I went dancing at The Black Cat. Lots of high-schoolers there, which was cool. They were fun. They made me smile with their fresh enthusiasm, the halloween costume jewelry, and off-the-shoulder fashions. They were adorable. Another high-school girl asked me to dance with her and her friend. "But I can't dance," her friend insisted. "Look around," I said, "half these people can't dance either." It was true. (Gosh you should have seen the guy in the leather jacket. Robin I miss you.) I smiled at them and went back to dancing with Sarah.

The DJ was good, not excellent. She pulled some interesting things that I can't quite remember now. She wore red sequin boots and had tattoes all over her arms and shoulders. I was scared and awed by her. But not enough Cure songs. There are never enough Cure songs.

Okay, to bed now. In less than 12 hours I have to be in front of a pretend appellate court, wearing my suit and acting more aggressive than I did at practice, at least that's the advice I got.
posted by weiss @ 12:52 AM