i went to the portuguese festival in newark last night...there was a squirrel on a spit, lots of music, and even more sangria. you know those quart-size won ton soup containers? that's what the sangria was served in. i drank one of those. it was good, with apples and oranges and other fruity goodness floating in it.
did i mention there were no bathrooms? a first for the beatpoetgrrl last night, peeing in an alley. and you thought only guys got to have that kind of fun, right? yes, of course it sucked. especially the part where the gate that had led into the alley in the first place was locked when we came back. some very tense minutes were had trying to break back out.
we went to a club called qxt's. by this point, the sangria had really set in, and mostly i ended up sitting on a couch in the back. feeling sorry for myself, if you must know. everyone around me all cute and couple-y, even the ones that aren't technically couples. and then me, by myself.
maybe it's not the way things really are, but after a quart of sangria you can start feeling like you're always going to be the fifth wheel. like maybe what i should really do is get ready for that downpayment on the cottage in new england where i can live as a spinster with my cats and my computer for company. because it's really feeling like no one is ever going to find me attractive, and no matter how many times i tell myself that i'm worthy of love, if no one else is seeing it, then really i'm not sure there's a point to saying it in the first place.
maybe i just need to get out of this damn town.
beatpoetgrrl
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