Despite feeling like I’ve been through a week of fraternity hazing between my Mexican birthday weekend getaway and a 12 hour workday yesterday, I had to do it. One of my friends is a pro golfer and he throw this annual party the week of the Byron Nelson tournament in Dallas. It’s on a Monday. A MONDAY. It’s rare, but it’s those times I just hurt inside that I can’t go out during the week because of my job. This party starts at 830, which means people don’t show til after 9. Can the party just start at 6 and end at 9? Now that I could do.

Anyways, I really wanted and needed to make an appearance because he asked me to and I missed the last two years. Selfishly, I wanted to go also because I am tan and I wanted to get a glimmer of hope that there are other men in the world that I’ve never seen. This was the perfect opportunity because there were so many out of towners. Golfers, golf equipment and apparel reps…and maybe 10 girls. It was tall dude heaven. I wore flat sandals, making me so short I couldn’t see any of the options. I ended up talking to my 2 best friends and their significant others and arguing with a close guy friend about who was more tan. Then I realize it’s 10 pm, my curfew was 930, so I put down my water with lime that looks like booze and slink out thinking about all the new men I missed out on meeting. Grass isn’t greener. Grass isn’t greener….is it? tear ;(