Who Needs to Think When Your Feet Just Go?

I missed this event on Friday night on purpose. An evening with Ashton Kutcher sounds like the most vapid, shallow night I can imagine. Word on the street was that he and Demi were at the Hawkeye men's basketball game on Friday too. Yawn.

So, kids. This weekend started out so nice and mellow, but got crazier and crazier as it progressed. I'll have to wait until tomorrow to tell you the weirdest thing that happened today, but tonight, we'll just stick to Saturday, shall we?


On Saturday night, I tried to cram as many social experiences in as possible. My goal is to stay at home as much as I can in the next couple of weeks, and so I thought I'd get some serious bang for my social event buck.

First, I hit the What a Load of Craft fair at The Picador. It was everything I hoped it would be. When I arrived, a" making stuffed Christmassy items" craft death match was just beginning. I didn't stay for the outcome, but I did hear the emcee giving one of the girls shit by asking her if she was making a Christmas potato. She told him it was supposed to be a bunny. Oops.

There were some extremely non-seasonal, but totally cool drawings on sale.

And some hipster boys selling them.

Even Santa and his reindeer had attitudes. How punk rock is that?

I left the Picador and headed down to the Dublin to meet my friends there.

Most importantly, my girl crush was in town, and even though she had a cold, she was all ready for some dance party action.


Judging from this photo, I think the dance party delivered... So many bad dance faces, so little time.

At some point, we all got tired and were sitting around talking, when I got a text from my friend Lyd. I warned some of the people I was sitting with, that my crazy but totally hot friends were on their way down. One of the guys asked, "So, are they really crazy?" I told him yes, but in a good way. Then he asked, "And are they really hot?" I assured him they were and he said, "Awesome, because that's my favorite combination."

The girls blew in and instantly started taking photos of everyone's cleavage. It was crazy how all the sudden, men I didn't even know were in the bar, appeared and asked to be the photographer. My friend James told me that men can actually smell cleavage, so it's not impossible that they came in from off the street right then.

After the bar closed, my hot crazy friends kidnapped me and took me down to where the younger crowd bars were. Their plan was to all dance down there, just to see what kind of reaction we would get. We stood up on one of the plant holder thingy's but didn't really dance. Apparently, we didn't need to. Once again, a group of guys appeared out of nowhere. One of them said he'd take his shirt off if we would. I told him to go ahead and we'd see. He did, and I took this photo. He asked to see it and fell in love with his own reflection. He was so enamored that he forgot to try to get us to take our shirts off. I love it when narcissism works to my advantage.