So you might not know this: You need to Pre-read to read

Before you read this blog please understand the following.

1) I am not a professional writer, well, technically I am supposed to be, but not the "journalist" kind who ever has to write creatively so don't judge based on your feelings of "whether you get me or not....I don't need to be got". Also, don't get all up on my anus about grammar and language usage - this blog is called free-association which means I don't edit or even re-read it. I have a day job and if the Republicans found out I was helping democrats I would be so dead. Well, maybe not dead but I wouldn't be able to give it my full 60% or something so suck it.

2) This bloggy ( if I don't quit because I go broke or get tired of too much me) will constantly change an evolve, hopefully because it will learn to feed and grow on its own....but don't judge cause you hate it - when there might be something meaningful shit in there - or there might not, I guess it depends on you.

3) I have never been concise so you might have to read a bunch of shit you don't want to - that is what skimming is for.

4) I promise you will learn at least something new each post, maybe it will be my bra size - or maybe it will be your totally new fav bar in DTC...so just be patient.

5) I don't necessarily think I know more than you. I agree that people who write blogs appear to have that vanity obsession of you must know what I think because it will make you laugh and cry and pee your pants with the hilarious witticisms. I am writing this not because I think I am brilliant but because I am a) bored and b) was told by my magician re-alignment lady after having my jaw released that I need to express myself in some form in order to keep myself from clenching my teeth. Since I don't do feelings journals I thought, what better than to write about what I love, getting my drink on done and my eat on done.

While I have been out and about in this city many many times, I haven't really ventured outside of my comfort zone. I am not so into the Lower Downton Denver (LoDo) thing because I am over 30, hate assholes and try to avoid being seen anywhere a Real World episode might have been filmed. I know however, that to truly get a sense of this city I must suspend my disbelief (which I think at this point would be, I hate LoDo and don't have any intention of having a conversation with a guy who wears "face-bronzer" save it for the bodybuilding.) Part of the reason I have found myself retreating more and more into my little cocoon of an apartment is because I make assumptions that there are a bunch of guys wearing face bronzer hanging out in LoDo, which I suspect is probably not true. I have undressed myself of my prejudicial feelings and ventured out to see what else is out there..

Sidenote: Once upon a time, about 4 years ago, a superbff of mine we'll call Matilda, was visiting me in the Denver and we were shopping at some make-up boutique in Cherry Creek. At one point, she and I were verbally wondering why there wasn't a Sephora in a city of this size and the woman who owned the little boutique said that it was because the owner of Sephora didn't feel that women in Denver wore enough make-up to warrant a make-up store like that. Ever since then, my friend, we'll call Grace, and I used to drive around town playing a game called (she is the reason there is no Sephora in Denver) because NO ONE seems to wear make-up, partly because everyone is some sort of hippie lover, outdoorsy number or lazy-ass. I fall into the lazy category, just for future reference.

Moral of the story one: Girls who hang out in downtown Denver probably don't live in Denver. (We too have a bridge and tunnel crowd) There are now several Sephoras around and it shows. I don't know if the transient population that was once mostly midwestern has changed to include a bunch of make-up obsessed youngsters or if the natural look is so totally out, but times have definitely changed. Maybe I am not familiar with this look because most of the places I go are neighborhood bars but I was impressed when my friend, we'll call Lulu, suggested that we play a game of "what is the average time it took the ladies at this table or at that table to get ready." BTW, totally fun game.


Moral of the story two: I should probably dress it up a little if I don't want to stick out like a 32 year old thumb.

You might be thinking to yourself, what did all that have to do with which bar is going to give me the quickest erection?

Well, it will make sense later - the point is that I too had misconceptions of this city because I love to judge what I do not know. I am a hypocrite and I love it.

The end,
Mallory