Matt's Birthday

Funny how sometimes all it takes is thinking about people, and they suddenly appear in your life. I was muttering to myself in Spanish while walking home the other day (it's my way of practicing), and I was thinking about what characteristics my ideal guy would have. He would be intelligent, speak Spanish but English as a first language, be incredibly intelligent, love to travel, and get my sense of humour in the way that we could exchange glances across the room and make each other laugh.

What do you know? Got home and there was an e-mail waiting for me from the Texan.

Alas, his message was that he hopes to see me soon, but he's still on track for a Q1 2010 move to NYC. Argh. There's always a catch.

Anyway, this evening it was my dear friend Matt's birthday. After wearing the incredibly inappropriate pashmina wrap "skirt" last night, I was mysteriously posessed by the desire to go out wearing a ridiculously short skirt. Dug up both of my old mini skirts, put on the shorter one, only to quickly pull it off again, saying, "Not sure even I can make that work!" but the "too short for the office, yet a more respectable length" one did the trick. Paired with a low-cut top, I looked perfect for going out to a bar in Camden on a Saturday night.

Arrived and greeted Matt (I was the first non-family member to arrive), and ended up getting into a very interesting conversation with Matt's girlfriend's father, who had flown over from the US for Matt's birthday. He's a professor at UPenn, and seemed fascinated by my background, as we covered all topics from investing stratgies to my love of the NHS. I heard later in the evening that he apparently enjoyed meeting me as much as I did him, which is always nice, when people's parents turn out to be cool.

Eventually more of the usual characters arrived, and I found out that last night after I'd left the Rubik's Cube party, apparently everyone else had gone on to another party of a mutual friend of ours, where they'd all been out until 5 AM. People had crashed at each other's houses, and others hadn't even woken up until 7 PM, the whole thing sounded absolutely mental. Although funny enough, rather than feeling like I'd missed out on a great party, I was just so glad that I'd gone home at a reasonable hour!

It was funny though, as I was standing there talking to my friend Sara, and we were asking each other, "Where's Dave? I hear he didn't get up until 7 PM," and then all of a sudden he was there! Then we somehow were talking about guys who were overly desperate and bad flirts, and suddenly, there was Ross! Most amazing though was when we said to each other, "Wasn't Dan supposed to be coming this evening?" and almost just as we finished the thought, a guy standing near us turned around, and it was Dan! I said to Sarah, "Quickly, this is amazing! Who else do we want to turn up?" Sarah laughed and said, "Hot guys?" "Alas, good idea, but I think we need names!" Too bad we couldn't come up with any right on the spot right then!

It was good to see Dan however, as I hadn't seen him since he moved to Jersey about two months ago. I threw my arms around him and told him, "God, I've missed you!" only to have him say, "Not as much as I've missed you!"

Dan is always the guy that I joke "uses me for intellectual conversation". I never quite understand it, as he spends endless amounts of time chasing after completely inappropriate girls, that are, even in his words, "not really girlfriend material." Yet then when he wants to have an interesting discussion with a girl, he always makes a beeline for me. He's an intelligent and interesting guy, so I don't really mind, even as I'm bemused by it. He just can't seem to figure out that he should be going for intelligence and sex in one package, rather than trying to get them from two different sources. We've been writing back-and-forth ever since he moved to Jersey, so it was good to finally have a reunion.

So you might ask, have I ever been interested in Dan? It was funny, for as my friend Nat was leaving for the evening, she pulled me aside and whispered in my ear, "You look amazing, be sure to pull tonight." I cracked up laughing at this, for while I was indeed, dressed in a manner that would indicate I was interested in some male company, I asked her, "Who on earth would I pull?" She suggested with a raised eyebrow, "Dan, maybe?" I laughed and said, "One day we'll get into all of the reasons why not, but for now let's just say no."

Why not? Because as I leaned in close for a hug, I also smelled something distinctive. I whispered in his ear, "Are you smoking again?" He quickly muttered, "Yeah", and I dropped it, but that's all the words we needed to say on that topic. I have only one real deal-breaker when it comes to men, and smoking is it. No way, no how, no chance. If you smoke, I'll be your best friend, but I just can't imagine kissing a mouth that tastes like an ashtray.

It was a good evening with good company and great people, and I think the birthday boy had a really great time. We even managed to get a cake into the pub for him, which was good fun. I was a bit frustrated at how everyone kept buying me drinks, without leaving me the option to buy them one in return (finally bought ones for myself and Sarah), until at the very end of the evening, even the birthday boy was buying me drinks! Told him that I shouldn't (remember how I've given up hangovers since I turned 30) and that I really needed a pint of water, but he bought me a beer instead.

Luckily, before I could really move from "quite tipsy" to a stage of greater inebriation, the bar was closing. It was already well past 2 AM at this point, and the Tube was most definitely shut, so we all poured out onto the streets, trying to figure out what to do next and how to get home. Got locked in a hug with Dan, and then he told me, "You're a very good hugger." What the hell does THAT mean?

Many of the people who live in south London then grabbed a cab that was willing to take them all south of the river for £10 each, while those of us who live more central decided to just take a night bus. Except before we could grab a night bus, we walked past Woody's Grill, one of the best kebab places in London (according to my friends), and it smelled soooooo good...

Tried to resist, but eventually dragged two others over to the kebab place with me, where I got a giant helping of chicken kebab meat and chips covered in garlic sauce for a mere £4. Added a bunch of mayonaise on top, just to add to the calorie-fest, and then we ran off to jump on a night bus.

My little late-night snack kept me going for quite a few stops, although I was alarmed when I paused in eating and noticed that my plastic fork had gone from four tines down to three. I'd apparently eaten part of my plastic fork, and the quality of the food was so poor I hadn't even noticed it! Started to feel somewhat ill rather quickly...

When the night bus made it to Notting Hill Gate, I figured that was about as close to home as I was going to get, so I jumped off in hopes of finding another bus going towards Shepherd's Bush. While I was standing there on the street (at 2:45 AM) a police officer approached me and said, "Excuse me ma'am, but we're looking for a missing person. Have you seen this man this evening?" and showed me a picture of an elderly looking bald man. Alas, I had not seen the man in question, although I'm not sure I would have recognized him from the little black-and-white printout that the officer showed me. How random.

Then, as I was standing at the bus stop, all by myself, a man approached me, and offered me a cigarette. What is it with people and cigarettes this evening? First Dan smoking again, and now some guy think I smoke? So I turned him down, telling him that I didn't smoke, but he was quite insistent, kept pushing the cigarette at me. WTF? So then I said, "I can't because I'm just about to get on a bus" and then frantically scanned the streets, and thank goodness one showed up right then. Sometimes the universe obviously smiles on me.

Finally made it home at 3 AM, thankfully cigarette-free, boy free, although with perhaps a few too many extra calories due to that late-night kebab!