How Pookie got her groove back

It really is amazing what a good bout of pookysex has done for my mood and outlook. Clearly there are several lessons to be learned here. (And I feel this good during what's normally PMS Hell. How cool is _that_?)

Extra value-added retail therapy last night: a new outfit for $27. If only I'd been home overnight so I could accessorize. I think either my silver neck chain or my collar would work well.

Going to a bar tonight with Kathryn that supposedly has bartenders in kilts. We'll see...

Fashion hurts, baby.

My new shoes are most stylin', but also most painful. By the last block home, I was sure I was going to take off my socks and find bloody pulps.

The bar had kilt-boys as advertised. K. was sufficiently late that I was getting to know a cutie from over the water quite well--moved to Brooklyn six months ago from a village of 200 souls. Yum. Behold, I am at last learning the noble art of the bar pick-up.