After 8 years of residency in San Diego (OMG 8 years!!) I'm finally getting the hang of going to places outside of the Gaslamp district.
Friday night Patty was down in SD and we went to Landlord Jim's. The crowd consisted of Patty's old co-workers (who I had adopted for a while) and my own co-workers. It was a weird melding of two worlds for me but in the end I realized friends is friends, who the fuck cares where our paycheck comes from.
Anyway, Landlord Jim's... Jay the DJ, you friggin rock my socks with the old school hip hop giving the perfect atmosphere to a divey dive where they serve beer in paper bags. Luvit, love you, have my babies and I'll have them get cute mohawks just like you.
Saturday night we hit up the Whistlestop. The first time I ever went there was actually a couple of months ago to meet up with a knitting group on a Sunday afternoon. I went there last week to party proper to some new wave british pop synth ("Transport") and this past Saturday was dancey hip pop ("One Nation"). There's a $5 cover after 10, but my friends were able to sneak in at 9:58 much to the bouncer's amusement, who had been watching us race (RACE) down the block at 9:57. I don't care if that makes me sound cheap, that's enough for a vodka tonic, yo.
And I figured out why it's hard to quit smoking. It's not the nicotine, it's the gawdamm fact that I met so many people this weekend by exchanging lights and cigs that is so gawdamm addicting.