Friday night was spent watching Sin City, arms around each other at the freezing Brew and View. The movie was dark, funny, and both gorgeous and gruesome to look at, and Maya chatted excitedly in my ear about color correction. On the way home, we encountered a surprised co-worker of mine on the train platform. Yes, I do exist away from my desk!
Then last night, we went to a birthday party for Nick, an old friend of mine from school. It was a schwanky, wine-and-cheese affair, fun to get glammed up for (pictures later, perhaps), and I got to catch up with Ashley and Puran, dork out with Adam, and trade work/love/life stories with Puran's charming friend Chris, who turned out to be in charge of the $300-and-up shoe department at the Michigan Avenue Nordstrom. (I became self-conscious of my shoes, but Chris assured me that they were acceptable, and I don't get the feeling he'd lie about something so vastly important.) I stayed and drank wine until my lips were stained dark purple, then walked to the Wilson el stop at three a.m. in my acceptable footwear, mumbling over and over to myself the same Mountain Goats song that's been in my head for two months, and ended up crashing on Maya's couch -- far preferable to going all the way to Howard and then cabbing it home, if you don't have anywhere to be the next morning.
I could make it a hat trick by going to Ravinia with Maya tonight, but there's running to be done. This whole training-in-the-summer thing might take some getting used to. Yesterday, I tried running in the early afternoon, and a mere six miles left me dehydrated and sunburned. Let's hope that if I wait until evening, I'll be able to do nine today with no problem.