When Good Flirting Goes Bad

Well, I survived Christmas. And while it wasn't the jolliest of holidays for me, it wasn't all that bad either. The Nutcracker was a highpoint with what might have been the most unbelievably gorgeous Waltz of the Flowers ever. I had tears running down my cheeks the entire time. I gave a good bounty, got a good bounty, and the four days were survived with a minimum of drama. All in all, a successful time.

Upon returning to life in the real world, well, it's a little of this and a little of that. Superficially, all should be really really well. I have a great house, a great job, fabulous bosses, amazing kitties, and I'm really progressing with my yoga. But I'm still kinda down in the dumps.

One thing that massively helped with the blues: dinner and drinks with Keebs.

Keebs is a friend from a long time ago. I don't see her nearly enough. Sure, we talk enough on IM and through texting, but it's not the same.

Tonight, we hang out. She gave me bling, I gave her bling. The bling she gave me was way better - I feel massively guilty.

We had such a great time. I know that there is a common reaction to girls who are extra loud at a bar. But we were seriously, legitimately laughing out loud. C'mon -- we're two girls in advertising and there was a cute bartender and a bottle of DiSaronno. Do you NOT see the funny in that?

Still, I guess we were a little too loud. Because at one point, I tried to engage Le Cute Bartender. To decidedly no avail. And given that we'd just left him a $10 tip on a $30 tab, that was a little wierd. And, yea, it bugged me out.

I should be the kind of person that knows that hanging with a good friend and sharing very real belly laughs with her should be enough. I should be the kind of person that doesn't care about a random, stranger bartender's reaction to my existence.

So why was I so ticked off?

I guess, because I'm only human. And I'm only female.

Drat.