Jekyll and Hyde

The Arlington girls get ready for the fun to start.

If it isn't already clear from my posts, I like to socialize (socialize being, of course, a euphemism for spending the equivalent of a mortgage payment for excessive drinking, dancing, food, flirting and photography).


Birthday present.

This weekend was no exception, as I rallied from Thursday to Sunday to celebrate the birthday of a very special friend. Her present was bottle service and a lap dance.


Cookie sandwich.


Tug-o-Cookie

But as I curled up in bed on Saturday night after the newspapers had already been delivered, black eyeliner smudged on my cheek, a crumpled $1 bill and a credit card receipt the only money left in my pocket, hair reeking so badly of dry ice and cigarettes that I probably ruined the pillow case, the remorse began to settle in.

This is the girl who, at 13 years old, told her parents she would never drink alcohol - that it tasted bad and encouraged people to behave like morons. This is the girl who spent hours at church youth group and who entertained the notion of one day becoming a minister (just like her grandfather). This is the girl who dreamed of having a husband and 3 kids by the time she turned 30. Interesting how our choices and our environment can alter our intended plans so drastically.

Now, just because I'm a regular fixture at several evening-activity venues and spend quite a few hours a week on the dance floor with a vodka tonic in hand, doesn't mean that I'm not still the same kind-hearted, warm, shy, family-oriented girl I was growing up. What I fear though, are the mis-perceptions that are associated with being so vibrantly social. In the eyes of a man, does the party girl outrival the 'bring this one home to my mom?' Does the fun conceal the serious? Does the external sexy obfuscate the internal beauty?

And after a weekend like the one I just had, the latter half spends the better part of her Sunday afternoons kicking the former half for hoarding all the press.