Not a single lesbian made a pass at me last night! Not a single one. This is just...unheard of...

*sniffing arm pits* "Do I oh-fend?"

OK, yes the obviously-gay bartender did buy me a drink, but frankly I think she was just being a nice bartender because I'm a great tipper and she appreciated it.

A blonde man from Johannesburg made a play for me, though. He was damn cute, too (and probably six years younger than I, of course). However, he's the lead singer for the band that played right after Smithereens-Mike's band (MoFi) and I am going to make a concerted effort to not date any more musicians. Plus, I'm really not so fond of the blondes, for some reason. Not that blonde hair alone would exclude him from my romantic interest, but in hand with the whole musician-thing it ads up to "not interested". He did give good hug, though.

His band was kinda cool, too. I may go see them again. They kind of reminded me of a guitar-based Depeche Mode (except the lead singer actually has an ass, as opposed to Dave Gahan). I found them to be entertaining. He gave me a CD of their tunes, which was groovy of him.

The first band that played, though...not so enjoyable. Their guitar-player just needs to find new dudes to play with, cuz he was the only one with talent. Plus, they were freakin' loud and they played for a really long time (which meant that the quasi-DM band had little time to play, dammit). The only thing worse than a bad band is a loud bad band. I could hold a conversation with no one while they played, because nobody could hear a word I said, which meant that I couldn't even mock them easily which, let's face it, is half the fun of going to see bar bands.

(I do so enjoy my run-on sentences.)

Now MoFi. LOVED them. They are really good. Not at all what I expected, but really good. They need a better vocalist (*ahem* hint-hint, nudge-nudge) but their songs rock and they are great musicians. From what Mike had told me, though, I expected them to be a jazz band. Uh...NOT. They obviously have jazz influences, but this is some kick-booty rock and roll, peeps. Don't even ask me where they came up with that goofy name, though.

I again escaped Mike's clutches before the inevitable attempted kiss. RELIEF!

I guess I really should have "the talk" with him. I just know that things will get all weird if/when I do, though. I just know he is that type who will get all weird and mopey in love with me once I tell him we're just gonna be friends. And you know - I'm gonna see him at gigs. It's gonna suck.

Boy, I apparently have a tremendous opinion of myself, don't I?

Actually, he hadn't called me since our Beck date until last night, so I was kind of hoping maybe the date made him realize he's not as fond of me as he had thought. However, his googly-eyes last night confirmed that yes, I am the loveable babe that I thought I was (however, this is another tip for you clueless dudes out there. When you like someone, call them after you have a date. Otherwise, we will think you don't like us anymore).

Damn, it's hard to be such a dude-magnet.

P.S. Hold a good thought for me today - I have my History final tonight!

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