Pittsburgh is so magical.

In the past my friends from home have remarked (usually when referencing this blog) how glamorous my life in Pittsburgh seems - that shitty kind of glamorous, the every day kind, you know. And I always respond that it's simply a matter of editing - I'm a boring person, really. My life is quiet. Because I'm writing about it after the fact I can choose to only talk about the most interesting parts.

But you know what? That is bullshit.

Last night was a perfect example, rolling around the city, tearing shit up. It felt like every place we went into we stormed into, a tornado of dresses and pretty girls, limbs swinging, hair flyin. The night ended at an after-hours members only club around 4 am. It's like a fucking speakeasy, with a guard at the door and lots of rules I didn't know and broke, over and over. How I got in is a mystery, but I spilled a man's beer all over me (typical!) and offered to buy him another. In the end it probably didn't win him over any more than the fact that I was drunk and leaning on him, but I will choose to remember that my flawless social grace and charm is what did the trick.

Really, could it have ended any differently? I managed to keep my phone, passport, keys, and debit card (all floating around my bag) with me through out the entire tumbling night, and when being dropped off by my new friend I forgot it in the car. We have no mutual friends and I don't know his number. Huzzah.


"I wasn't ready to go. I'm never ready to go. Let it ride."