Kool Kids’ Table

Sometimes I like to count myself among the cool kids… but I’ll leave you to judge the truth. No matter what YOU think, beloved reader, I will– without hesitation– swirly you for disagreeing with the coolness of the following frequent guests:

Friends, Relatives, and Rockstars

Sally: best friend, partner in crime, trusted advisor. We can be found stirring up trouble at any given moment. Typically who I bounce article ideas off of. And as a fellow Vagina Monologuer, she’s a total dating rockstar.

Otoño: is my college friend, big sister, and personal rock when I first moved here. She heartlessly abandoned  me to move to South America with her new husband; now, we have to have our wine pow-wows via Skype. Thank God for the damned internet.

Jules Jr.: is the younger sister who lived with me Summer ’12. As it eventually came out, she was here to intern at the White House– made me so proud! Unconfirmed reports that the ghosts of her giggles can still be heard echoing in the halls of the EEOB. Alternatively known as Mini-Me, Junior, or JJ.

Fabala: is the youngest sister. Still in high school, smarter than the rest of us, and now outshining the world both on the stage and on the page. Frequently mistaken for triplets when the three of us are together. Also known as Munchkin, the Leetlest, or Phobia.

Abigail: was Junior’s partner in crime from this summer, and has virtually been adopted into the family. Among us tall Julesonians, she is a pint-sized bundle of weird and awesome that makes me happy to answer to ‘sister’.

Big Bro: is the clan eldest. He lives in Philly with a pile of other cool kids. Visits for Phillies games, dance parties, and sibling bonding. Thinks DC stands for “DiscoCity”. I’ve adopted it.

Theon: is one of my buddies here. Like most DC friends, we met by chance through others, and immediately clicked. He’s a lawyer, he’s a runner, he’s awesome– put together, that means he can drink like me (and, yes, I admit: occassionally OUT-drink me). A growing number of my best dating conversations belong to him.

The Teambuilders: all the fools that work at My Bar. We’re a great, big, wildly dysfunctional, awesome family. Adina, the boys, the bartenders, and the rest of staff all make a great team. We emphasize group unity by an activity called “Teambuilding”. Guess which industry standard is our poison of choice?

Team United Nations: is a group of friends that amusingly happen to ethnically span the globe. Japanese, Thai, Persian, Ethiopian, Israeli, Irish, Bangladeshi, French, British, Puerto Rican– and sure, some American. The list continues to grow. In classic DC fashion, backgrounds mess together in a wonderful mixing pot of awesome.

Heartbreaks, -Aches, and Experiences

My Mick: is my current main squeeze, life distraction, and all around kickass partner in crime. With our common heritage, we make quite the Irish couple, including all the drinking, stubbornness, and wild adventures we’re entitled to.

My Beloved Bartenders: are a collection of the best. My leading man works at Madam’s Organ, and I leave frequent love notes on my receipts. If you tell me he’s taken, my heart will absolutely break. The next favorite is the tall drink of water at Red Derby. I also dig the guys at Meridian Pint, Jack Rose, Looking Glass, and Wonderland. [Notice a theme? All cool places.]

My Soldier was my high school sweetheart. We finally saw each other, after eight years, and remembered old times. Not a future interest, but it’s a solid part of what made me who I am.

The Classicist was a great guy. Had lots of books. You know how important books are to me. We ended up parting amicably, and I’m happy to know his life is good.

The Genuine Article was a great experience. Intelligent, passionate, motivated. Just a bit too committed for my taste at the time.

The Stealth Hippie definitely taught me some things; not all positive. Good looking, chill, and unexpectedly devious. Dropped me via text. What a douche. But he taught me to be unapologetic about my Number, albeit through negative reinforcement.

The Mistake is self-explanatory. But since you like details, the nutshell is this: even the most aware of us get duped sometimes. Has taken the form of many men.



  1. Pingback: How to Ba-Rock the Body Republic « Dating the District - January 18, 2013

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