Quality

I know I was supposed to devote the past week to answering my burning and unanswered questions. But I got sidetracked. By a shitty work week. And dieting like a fiend for my birthday party. I could just see it: me inviting all my nearest and dearest out to celebrate me and then looking like a slob. So 4 nights last week I ate salmon for dinner.

But there are side effects to salmon. I've always heard it's great for you. According to DistrictSiren, it's not one of the 3 fish you can't eat more than once/week, and my skin looked especially hydrated when I ate it for dinner two weeks ago... But yeah. Side effects. Omega 3's don't just hydrate: they help you orgasm according to another friend, Ashley, who eats it for that express purpose. STAY AWAY FROM SALMON IF YOU'RE NOT GETTING ANY.

The week wore on, and as anticipation for my big bash climbed, so did my libido. Which is why when my work friend said she was making it her "duty" at my birthday party to find me "Birthday Bootie" I was.... not.... that.... discouraging. She told everyone about her quest. Or maybe that was me. Which is why there were many times last night where I could be heard saying, "I'm not having random sex on my birthday!" I think I was affirming it just as much for myself, as I was for everyone around me who watched as I shook it like a salt shaker on every table we could clear off fast enough in VIP.

And speaking of the party itself: There are people that I have gotten to know through this blog thing that I've begun to consider my real-life friends... so posting their names would be weird. But I love them. And I love that they came. The night was very special, mainly because of the people that were there. We chose that place, not for its "cool factor," but because they play good music and we don't need a scene when we have our down-ass crew.

**EEEEw: A woman sitting across from me in starbucks just took a digital picture of her engagement ring. Now she's taking more. Evidently, she's not getting the quality she'd like... Now she's holding her hand in the window to get better gleam from her rock. *BLETCH* And she's wearing heels. Who wears heels on a Sunday afternoon??? Yuck Yuck Yuck.**

Back to the salmon: I may have been randy, (and though I may have joked otherwise) no part of me finds random *anything* appealing. Remember in college when the idea of meeting some hottie at a party and dancing and drinking and making out seemed romantic? Like you might meet your next boyfriend that way? I have no such delusions anymore.

So yeah. This is my own 23yo turning point: I'm now looking for quality. And salmon or no salmon, cocktails or no cocktails, that's just what I'm about. I have no idea what that means in any pragmatic sense. ...But that's my 23yo personal assignment. Last year it was "Date Nice Guys." This year it's: Quality Courting born of Libido Leadership.

Damn. I'm getting old.