Confession: I Yachtied.

Gulp. I hate to admit it. But yes, people. I went to the Yacht Club this weekend.


For those of you who think that sounds ok and kind of posh, rewind. Think again. It is hugely ironic that this place is called the Yacht Club. It's the diviest of all dives I have ever seen, and a guaranteed Rancho Reunion. Not always people you want to see either. Thankfully, we only ran into one that night, and he was fine.


But I really wanted to see my friend Catherine and her sister/my friend Laura while she was in town. This is how the evening began:


Jaime drives home from work @winery rediculously tired but determined not to punk out on her friends. Watches Bend it Like Beckham for a little while on TV before changing for the night out. At one point she takes off the jeans she put on to put pajamas back on, but forces herself back into going out clothes.


Arrives at Catherine's house and has three glasses of wine. Three. Puts on Catherine's perfume before she goes out and Catherine keeps telling her how good she smells all night.


We go out. I down a Malibu and Coke right off the bat.

We take a few fun pictures.












I decide I need a shot to loosen up a little more. Kiersten buys me a vodka one.

Suddenly, it's a good idea to document how stupid I feel (and how much fun I am having) by taking a picture of myself in the wierd bathroom.





And another.





Gina buys another round, and I am unaware of the fact that I am getting another shot until no one knows who it's for and I realize it's probably mine.



We dance. I video it, but it's way too dark to see.

I take this photo though:





We're in the mirror.

I remember Catherine quoting Knocked Up "Now that's how you get pink eye" while two people bumped and grinded really stupidly, and stupidly close to us.

I am pleased to announce, that no matter how drunk I got all night, I realized how dumb everyone there was. And how unnatractive most were. Badly dressed. Not us of course, we all looked cute and fabulous.

Someone wanted Taco Bell, someone told someone to stop trying to talk like they were sober, and I giggled a lot.

And earlier in the night, Cath and I talked about how dorky we were in Junior High, how awkward we felt and how goody-goody we were in High School, and how awesome, cute, and confident we are now.

This is us:



I can't wait to spend more time with this girl. : )

Jaime needs a ride home. She sends Ashley a drunken facebook message, then goes to bed.

She has to go get her car the next morning (thanks roomie!) and ends up missing the craft fair in Golden Gate Park that she wanted to go to because she's running behind all day.

Damn Yachtie.