Saturday day... and night

Day

I've never understood people who claim to prefer winter over summer.
(Perhaps it might have something to do with my lack of coordination excluding me from the bulk of winter sports)
Everything seems so much more alive this time of year. Perhaps it is because this city is so grey through the winter months than a little light and warmth is enough to rejuvenate people. Even really sweltering heat makes me feel more alive than the rain ever can.

Either way, it brings out (or, really, just enhances) a sense of exploration and activity in me. I'm one of those people that also believes firmly that people neglect a whole lot that resides in their own backyard. As such, the Duke and I decided to visit the botanical gardens in town.



It's always a good sign to me when you are nearly instantaneously greated by wildlife-- a great blue heron, in this case-- while still technically in the midst of a metropolis.



I love turtles-- particularly how they always seem so grumpy, though you can't see their facial expression here.



Redwood tree from the ground up.




We managed to find a secret little nook underneath a big umbrella like tree.



Hedge maze!! I was actually really happy that we genuinely got a little lost in it.





And, a few flowers, so I can assure you it does live up to its garden reputation.

***

Night

If my day was about frolicking in the sunshine, my night could perhaps be construed as prowling (or some other debaucherous term) in the darkness.
Okay, I exagerrate a little-- I just think the whole thing suffered from a bit of a contrast effect.

It was two fellow graduate students' birthdays, so I joined a group for a night out.
At first, things seems relatively tame and normal. We had some drinks and cake and general conversationalizing.
Then there was some disagreement over which club to attend. As I've said on here in the past, a club's a club's a club. They're all relatively interchangeable in my books-- overpriced drinks and Top 40 music.

But, we set off to this "new" choice of club. Unfortunately, no one knew where on earth it was, and we wandered around downtown for about 45 minutes trying to find it. I had made yet another unfortunate choice in footwear, and was worried that the hobbling was starting while the night was still young. One guy dropped his phone and lost a valuable piece. People started to get irritable, the birthday girl was feeling guilty, and just general dissatisfaction started rumbling.

We finally arrive. I'm not especially thrilled to see a massive line-up full of people who looks like they are auditioning to play gang members. After waiting, and more grumbling, L. manages to pull the sexy birthday girl routine with the bouncer (complete with the assurance that the females in our group did outnumber the men). But we're not in yet-- we need to get our purses ripped apart, frisked, and screened with a metal detector before we go in. Oh yeah, and paid an exorbitant cover charge.

And for what? Overpriced drinks and not one, but several, dancing cages! (unfortunately, I don't mean the cages danced. That would have been worth the price. I mean cages with bars perfect for writhing one's ass against).
I find it a little disconcerting that, in a pair of capris and a tank top, I was more clad that probably 80% of the women there. On the bright side, my prudish apparel made me less of a sleeze-bag target than usual.

Oh, and they totally played the Thong Song.

Lest you think I am a total grump, all skepticism aside, I actually did have a fun time. Multiple vodka & cranberries certainly helped Beyonce songs become a lot more catchy. And maybe I did set foot in the cage-- but just to provide moral support for a few friends-- and I promise my ass touched no bars.

But the best part of the evening may have been stumbling in my front door, taking off my evil shoes, and gorging on the random combination of cream cheese on toast, dill pickles, and key lime yogurt before falling into bed.

***
And a last note

My folks are coming up on Tuesday for my convocation. Nearly six months after my defense, I am officially getting my Masters degree! Truthfully, outside of the whole relief of finishing, I haven't really gotten to bask in the accomplishment at all. I think it is in part because, not only is an MA not much more than a symbolic notch on the way to a PhD in my program, I just began my PhD work rapidly after my defense. Though I did go out for drinks with friends, there were no congratulations cards sent or the like. My BA got a lot more attention-- I'm the only one in at least a couple generations in my family to get a degree, but I guess I passed the big milestone in doing that, and now it is less noticeable. Nonetheless, it will be nice to be able to get a little retrospective honour. Even more, it's just a great excuse to get my parents here :).