maybe i don’t like the nightlife.  i’m an early bird special girl.  five o’clock is quite late enough for dinner and pajamas at seven seems de rigeur.  dinner at eight?  what is that all about?

however, i have spent the last three nights out on the town for the purpose of fulfilling my new years resolution to meet all (at the time) 325 facebook friends.

so tuesday night was baseball–specifically the sox versus the cleveland indians.  i thought baseball was nine innings but these guys were having so much fun that they extended the game to fourteen innings.  at that point, well after one a.m. and as near as i can interpret the action on the field, the two teams shook hands, patted each other’s asses and agreed that the sox won.

wednesday night i went to the wonderbar (650 n. rush) to see lonie walker, but more specifically, my facebook friend f2fb #196 downtown tony brown.  i got there early, which in bar scene is not cool.  being anywhere late, particularly the next day, is cool.  but i saw how lonie and the bad ass company band of which downtown is a member plays when the band outnumbers the audience.  they still rock it as if they were playing for a thousand facebook friends!  after the first set, i bought downtown a few buttery nipples.  it’s a drink, not a condition.  so here i am at downtown’s lunch break–

i was careful to explain to the drummer that he was the fourth best drummer in the world–right behind david presser (my stepson who is not a facebook friend but is nonetheless quite wonderful), joseph presser (#61) and eastman presser (#1).  a good drummer is able to play on the third floor and make the ceiling fixtures on the first floor quake.  and give me a migraine.  the drummer from bad ass offered his bona fides.  i said maybe another time.

last night–continuing my string of out of the house nights–i went to a botox party.  it was an event at the elyssian hotel sponsored by a plastic surgeon dr. dayan.  there were a lot of women, many of whom were on their way to auditions for the remake of the movie brazil.  and aestheticians, one of whom applied enough glitter on my eyes that i don’t ever have to do that again.  she was a professional who has several times done kim kardashian–in a makeup way.  she gave me this exclusive–

KIM KARDASHIAN’S BUTT IS NOT REAL!!!  SHE WEARS BUTT PADS!!

this struck me as strange because when i was growing up in the sixties my adoptive mother mrs. patrick was quite unhinged over the fact that i had a butt.  a big butt.  that suggested i was of a “lower” ethnicity.  i did exercises to reduce my butt.  i could have donated my butt to the kardashians!

one gal at the party asked my age.  i said that i was seventy.  she asked how long i had been a patient of the kindly surgeon.  i said that i was on a diet of white wine and glitter and hadn’t yet needed his services.  she agreed that it was a good diet.  because even though there were hors d’oeuvres they were passed about as if all the guests were of an aleutian family on an ice floe about to shove off mom.

the boy scouts arrived and were thrown out.  every documentarian should have an “i was thrown out” moment and i was so proud for them.  but i didn’t forget to have some time with f2fb friend #197 terri wojak.  i didn’t know how i knew her but i think it’s because i’m fifty one and i could be somebody who could benefit from her course on skin care.  it’s only $295 dollars and there’s five weeks of intense training on how to make the best of the epidermis.

terri is the gorgeous one. i'm the gal who just got glitter on her eyelids.

i left the party, mostly because i didn’t know anybody besides terri who needed to talk to the other guests.  and the glitter eye shadow was migrating to my retinas.  i am old.  i don’t mind that.  i was surprised at the frenzy of the party–we want to avoid the aspects of age but we are happier growing old than dying young.  and i was reminded that the previous night i had seen lonie walker and her band–and she wears the grey hair quite proudly beautifully.  please if you are ever in chicago go see her at the wonderbar just to see her beauty.

i have resolved to tell everyone that i’m seventy.  lying upwards about your age gives you a lot of street cred,  and as for showing up at a downtown tony brown concert.  .  . no matter what band he’s fronting, just buy him a buttery nipple.  or stop at the 7-11 before you see him and show him a buttery one!