Not Even The Weekend

Sometimes I feel like Carrie Bradshaw.

Let's see, on Tuesday there was a girls night that yielded the best line I've heard in a while:
"You know the plant in Little Shop of Horrors that keeps saying 'Feed me'? That's how my vagina feels right now!" It went on from there: a voicemail for a friend in London, watching the comedy The Guru and trying to imitate the dancing during the Bollywood musical scenes. You know, a typical night in with girlfriends. Oh, and I bought a new poster.

Wednesday was another girls' night out:

• a free beauty event held at a swanky new lounge, which yielded a goodie bag stuffed with free lipsticks, glosses, lotions and gift cards
• a drink or two at another lounge down the street, where they just happened to be filming an ending scene to one of my favorite TV shows, TLC's What Not To Wear
• another free event, this time to promote the Chicago's Best Bartender contest. My girlfriends and I ended up on TV! (Click to see the video clip; we're doing a shot right after the bartender named Bex.) Oh, and I made off with a t-shirt, a pint glass, and the knowledge that I my friend's date happens to work at the same advertising agency as my cousin-in-law.

Thursday continued the girls' nights: another free beauty event at the same lounge, this one guestlist only and hosted by InStyle magazine. We were greeted by trays full of icy blue mixed drinks, and nibbled on hors d'oeuvres like quiche, stuffed mushrooms, poached pears rolled in ham and chocolate-covered strawberries between sipping on red and white wine, Starbucks martinis, champagne, and tiny chocolate cups filled with Starbucks' equivalent of Baileys. Oooh, and more free goodies to round off the evening.

Tomorrow night I finally get to interact with the opposite sex, as my roommate and I are throwing a stock-the-bar party. Should be a real 'pete tong' evening, as a Scottish/Cambridge guy said on the Evite.

Pete Tong indeed.