...You cannot relive the past--- but you can damn sure try The birthday celebration kicked off last night with a bang.

I went to meet an old friend for drinks up in Denton after working with Giz Master Zero (Thanks Bryan!!!!)- and man did I deserve those beverages.

I finished the monotanous task that I call work-- got my bag 'o magic-- and slinked into the bathroom to begin the metamorphasis from waitress at local itallian dive to diva extroidanaire.

I emerged from the bathroom looking splendid, smelling like a rose (or J'Adore) and with every last hair in place. GMZ saw me and his jaw dropped. He was speechless. I gave a non chalante good bye and headed out.

I met the old school frat boys at the Denton Dive, and drank only like the old school boys know how...
Jagermeister (Jager blasters to be exact), and beer, lots of beer, lots and lots of beer. And a little whiskey
to top it off.

And the drunkenness ensued- And the fucked up frat boy compliments followed (from a frat boy nicknamed fat chad 'hey, you have nice tits, have I ever seen them?' me: "No." him: 'I would like to sleep between them tonight if you will let me' Me: 'No.')

Good times.

But this morning, my voice resembles an eighty year old who picked up the cigarettes at the ripe young age of five and has not put them down yet...

Which brings me to my next point:

My Birthday present to myself. I will be ceasing smoking on November 17th (The day of the Great American Smokeout)

So wish me luck, give me support, and pardon my bitchiness.  ¶ 2:57 PM