It was friday night. I had to meet my roommate in a half hour at Art Bar. What was that wierd smell in my hair? I did what the only girl ready for a night on the town would do about the mysteriously metallic funk coming from somewhere on my person. I went to Wal-Mart, the New Church of the South, to douse myself in something inexpensive smelling vaguely of ginger. (By the way, I found out the wierd smell was in fact metal. It was coming from Jennifer's bracelets, which had not been cleaned in some time. Lose a bracelet or smell bad? What to do?)

Late night Wal-Mart is an experience I have yet to rival, let alone in Lexington. The orange and leather-y women! The mulleted men! The NASCAR swank! The crying, snot-nosed babies! I decided that since I lost the bracelts, and therefore the funky aroma, to wander aimlessly around until it was time to forage up to Art Bar. My Aunt Betty called while I was seriously considering buying a box of hair color, she sugguested strawberry blonde.

I changed my mind.

Art Bar was the absolute funnest Friday, where we hung out with Cedric, Ray, and Jim, who all night I had to call "Jeem" like Shannon Elizabeth in American Pie. We danced, drank Madras (which i find out is not only a delicious grapefruit-y drink but also a fabric)and smoked too much. Jeem dubbed my Old Navy white lacy deal a "Shakira Shirt" and I looked at him with mixture of horror and gratitude. I do remember walking down Harden street at some point in the night when the old lady in the Dunking booth at the Circle K yelled "Woo-woo! Big Girl! Shake it like yo momma gave it to ya!" Not sure what this meant, I proceeded to Shake it, for all of Five Points to see. Go me.

P.S. Alan got me a ticket for Death Cab for Cutie in Chapel Hill. I love this man.

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