Last night was a blur of party hopping. Which is exactly how I like my Friday nights. Lots of friends, lots of fun, lots of opportunities to flirt.
My friend Kate and I started out at the AgSci bzzr garden. They had the mechanical bull in again. And AgSci gardens usually have a high male:female ratio, due to the nature of the agriculture program. Unfortunately, they look even younger to me now than they probably are – especially the ones I caught blatantly checking me out. Instead, ended up in a small group with a couple friends of Kate’s, watching the mechanical bull challengers. Especially the two girls who both got on the bull, made out for ten seconds for a photo op, and then didn’t even ride it.
Time to move on. We then hopped over to a party at one of Kate’s old friends’ houses, in mid-Kitsilano. This was slightly more age appropriate, as most people there were also recent alumni. I also found out I suck at foosball defense. I enjoyed myself, despite not knowing anyone else there – it was fun to just chat and hang out and watch the foosball tournament.
But Kate and I had a main event to go to. We had cracksmurf‘s 1993-themed party. So we visited my house long enough to jump into 1993 clothes. I had a cropped white T-shirt underneath a very short black-with-floral slipdress, black tights and Doc Marten ankle boots I borrowed from kat_lady. I applied red lipstick, darkened my eyebrows, and looked like I’d walked off the set of West Beverly High.
what I looked like when it WAS 1993 – with picture!
Hey, sharolyn, I got the blazer from Mantique, and it looks like it was made for me. I didn’t get the indecently short skirt that matched, because I would never get to wear it. Of course the whole thing looked fantastic with black tights, but I don’t ever wear skirts as it is, and have no need for a $35 miniskirt that barely covers my ass.
Now, if y’all will excuse me, I have partying to do.
I have a new personal e-mail address, because Hotmail is eating mail now. It has eaten mail from Andrew, mail from my friend Jen in Seattle, and eBay outbid notices.
So, if anyone’s mailing to jillian_tate @ hotmail dot com, please also address to jillian @ zyx dot com.
(And psychos, go ahead and stalk all you want)
Damn shame – I like Hotmail. It chains to Outlook, and notifies me when I get new mail if I’m on Messenger. It’s too bad the service is losing my mail. I’m too concerned about job offers to risk it.
I have somehow morphed from being a bitter, cynical angst-ridden twentysomething to being one of those frightening women who spout out Chicken Soup type cheerleaderisms.
about what it’s like to be unbalanced
This post on Craigslist from yesterday is identical to what I do here at my current job. For those who wanted to know, my official title is Online Media Manager. I’m a kind of media coordinator-slash-planner-slash-buyer.
Said job is with DDB, a really respectable ad agency. Global Agency of the Year, actually, according to Advertising Age. Position says “relocation”. It’s the sort of job I’d move to L.A. for.
Work gets shadier every day. I no longer fear for my job, I just fear for my conscience.
The North Van Salvation Army was solid 1993. It was awesome. I regretted my 15 minute detour to the SPCA thrift store as a result.
Bought shriekingly 90210-esque outfit, right down to the earrings…and kat_lady has kindly offered the loan of her Docs.
On a completely different note, today’s Fark challenge is actually hilarious. It’s “Unlikely Snack Foods”, and I laughed out loud at several. Especially “Yards of Tards”.
No, I’m not getting any actual work done today.
I’m booking meetings four months in advance for Ad:Tech in May. Gosh, now I feel like a big shot corporate-type career girl!
Playing grownup is so much fun! It’s like being back in the late 90s – only now I’m old enough to drink!