FRIDAY: Art show with Cecilia and Gilbert. The place was packed. Not sure just how many people were inside too look at art, most were just standing around hoping to be seen. After leaving the show, we stopped by Pinks Hot Dogs and stood in line for 20 minutes only to decide we didn't want to wait another 30 minutes for a hot dog. Gilbert then remembered he once saw a "Pink's Hot Dog" sign at the black jack casino by our house. So off we went! Got there and of course, no Pink's Hot Dogs, just a chinese restaruant four rooms filled with sad pathetic gamblers. The only solution was pancakes, but Ihop's doors closed minutes before we got there. Our plan "C" was In and Out Burger.
Saturday: Woke up at six, went to the gym then hit up the Santa Monica Vintage expo. I didn't find anything, only a t-shirt. After that went to both LACMA and the Getty for some last minute art history extra credit essays. I had forgotten how big the Getty was and seeing as I was in a rush to write my paper on asked the front desk for directions. A boy with big curly hair was restocking maps and walked me to another desk where I made reservations to visit the Getty Villa. Really nice boy, kinda cute too. After I got my ticket, I walked away. Ten minutes later realized I didn't get to say thank you. On my way out I asked the people at the front desk if they could say thank you for me, because I couldnt find the guy who helped me.
Went home. Took a nap. Then went to the garage show alone and somehow met some girl who had a lot of weed and felt the need to share it with me. It was free and I like free things so I did it in addition to the other two drinks I had that night. By midnight I was fucked up. Not fucked up enough to fall down, trip, scream or hit anyone, but I was feeling pretty fun. Before I got fucked up out of my mind I saw the guy from the Getty with the curly hair! He was way nice and we played tic-tac-toe and he gave me his email/number. Here's the part that sucks, I got cut off by the bar. I only had two drinks!! What was more embarassing was the guy came up to me outside and interrupted my conversation (not sure which boy I was talking to) and told me I couldnt drink any more and that I had had enough. I hate pot and drinking. It was the most funnnest feeling ever. I was having a party in my mind and then some dude accuses me of trying to sneak drinks outside and cut me off from the bar making me look like an alki. It was a bummer. Towards the end of the night the kid with the curly hair said, "Dont forget to call me!" My response was only, "Are you sure?" It was honest, because I was honestly fucked up. The other was a guy who i write to on myspace every once a week. He just broke up with his manfriend. I dont think its going to go anywhere, only because I was acting so strange. No more meeting people while drunk and high.
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