C and I hit Press to stalk Hot Bartender. Then to Zebe (where I met my ex husband six million years ago) to stalk Hot Bartender. 10:15 p.m. I realized, “shit! I need to be home in bed! It’s not Friday yet!”

No Hot Bartender but it’s always validating to have drinks bought for you and an incredibly cute football player-ish frat boy hold the door open and say “pretty girl coming through.” Not my type at all, even had that barbed wire style tat around his bicep. Yuck. I love me tattooed men, but please, get something interesting and not simply copied from Pam Anderson. (This would be the only reason I haven’t gotten one yet, I just have to figure out what is going to be original and “mean” something to me.)

I feel hot today. Red scoop neck t-shirt, black “Spanish Dancer” skirt that is all lacy and frilly and movement-y, and incredibly sweet tooled leather platform heels that make me at least 5’10”. Wooohooo!

Radar (Old Crush from 10 years ago) finally texted me back this morning. I like him. He’s got great presence and personality, you can tell he’s strong, but I’m not sure how crushing I am anymore. Still, can’t write it off.

Haven’t called Random from Tavern and I don’t think I will. Sometimes you just have to pull a “Sweet November” with a guy (movie with Charlize T where she gets with a guy for a month – in my case a weekend – and then sets him free.)

Plans for the weekend? Sappy movies Netflixed = check. Other than that I’m feeling all independent like and want to hit the town on my own. We’ll see.