[This entry is, believe it or not, suitable for all aubiences.]

I took the Tickler out for sushi at Shiro's. Damn, it's good. Not cheap, but very, very good. Many thanks to Funny Lady for turning me onto that place.

Thence to the Monkey Loft. The crowd was honestly smaller than I think the DJ deserved, a fellow from Argentina named Simon Vuarambon, but that made it nicer in a way: we not-so-young ladies got to sit when we wanted, usually. And the Monkey Loft's fabulous rooftop deck was open. I have to tell you, watching the sweet young things groove in perfect weather on a summer night with the power lines marching toward Starbucks HQ and downtown as the fire burns? Difficult to beat. I simply must find someone who wants to hit Monkey on New Year's Day.

From the Dept. of Culture Clash: there were a few people there in their Mariners gear. A game had indeed let out, and some of the baseball fans decided to come dancing. And there there were people who looked like Burners.

And as ever, brunch at Made In House. I forwent my usual caffeine because I consumed three large mugs of tea while waiting for the Tickler to arise. That's the only thing that kept me going until about 1615 today.

In summation: a successful weekend.

I had a chat with rigel_p. True to form, she's taken a scientific approach to dating because she's "Tired of The Bullshit [capitalization hers]". The buzzword? Attachment theory. The book? Attached, by Levine & Heller. Have I ordered it yet? Just before I started writing this entry, from Powell's. I'm probably more amused than I should be that a professional scientist is applying science to her love life, but she seems to believe that it's working. I have very little to lose by taking her advice.

C of summer goth barbecue fame had a birthday party at Murphy's, the "Irish" bar just a few bus stops from my place that I weirdly hadn't been in since the '90s. That's right: People in Black took over an Irish joint. C says it happens more often than you'd think. The band? Cover band Prom Date Mixtape sounded excellent, actually, with all the Cure and Psychedelic Furs you could want. The staff moved the furniture so we could dance, and we did.

Bonus: lots of hot women my own age all dolled up. Their likely heterosexuality is hardly their fault, now, is it? I laid eyes on goths I hadn't seen out & about in years.