I think I am totally addicted to going out – just like I was in my teens and twenties. Now that I’m in my forties I’m becoming the same old maniac with more clothes on, less clubbing and too many expensive dinners.
I can go out every single night during the week and not come home until 11:00 – 11:30 pm – that’s a 16 hour day. I’m like the energizer bunny as long as I stay out but as soon as I come home, you can’t get me back out of the house.
I promised my husband that I would be a good girl and stay home last week – and I did. when Friday rolled around I was itching to go out and be my gypsy self. After work I headed over to Pier Village on the beach in Long Branch and parked myself at the bar at The Avenue for happy hour. I met friend Amy not only to hang and BS but to celebrate her mom being cancer free.
I sipped on 3 Champagne cocktails while we talked about all the stuff going on in our lives. When Amy left, two older women started talking to me and actually kept me company. They were nice enough. The older of the two asked me if it would be ok if she asked me a personal question. I knew what was coming. The BOOB question. “Are your breasts real?” Stunned for a moment that a perfect stranger would ask me that (I mean I expect that from people I know – that don’t know), I smiled. The other lady, who turned out to be her sister, was semi-mortified and came to my defense saying, “Of course they’re real. You can tell.”
I smiled again, poked my boob and gave them the answer which was “Yes. They are.” Being lucky enough to have good muscle tone (from baton twirling and heredity) is both a blessing and a curse. People always wonder if…… I’m not really bothered by it but I continue to be shocked that someone would dare ask a complete stranger that question. I could never do it. It’s seems ill-mannered to me.
In any case, I left the restaurant and headed over to Monmouth Mall to pick up an outfit for Saturday night. I scored a BCBG dress for $99 at Lord & Taylor, a Michael Kors for $50 and picked up some other cute things.
I headed down the GSP and stopped by Due Amici in Brielle, another favorite haunt of mine. I had dinner and three 007s and got home around 10:30 pm – an early night. I called my husband on the way home and he was already annoyed that I was still out. Too bad.
On Saturday night we went back to Angelina’s in Staten Island for dinner with some friends. We had a great time once again despite the fact that my husband told me I looked fat before we left. Great food and great company. We danced into the night and got home by 3 am.
It was my friend’s baby shower on Sunday, so I headed up to Ponte Vecchio in Old Bridge and had a nice day with my friends. Of course I still didn’t have enough. I called my husband to check on his ETA and made the mistake of telling him that I planned out going to another venue. He was in Montclair at a Lacrosse game, currently having a beer at The Office. I started making plans to go out in my head.
I was ready to take off when my phone rang. It was John telling me that he was on his way home. I know he did that on purpose. So I asked him to join me for a drink or two or three at Bonefish. After too many Sangrias and couple 007s, we headed home. It was 8pm. Where did the day go?
It’s Monday. I started my diet. I’m back to work and a little tired but I still want to go out.