The Dawson’s Creek season came to an end last week so I had to find some other way to entertain myself tonight. I swung over to Yoni’s in Tarzana. 1010 101 10010 101 1101 11001. Crack the code.

Memorial Day weekend was memorably immemorable this year. Hui Chin and I swung it at Bar Sinister, a Gothic Club off Hollywood Blvd. Black was the dress code, and a dog collar put you in the “in” crowd.

Among the interesting people we met were:

Jing – a Thai physics graduate from Cal Tech who danced alone so that she would not injure anyone with her frantic-hand- flailing-help-I’m-drowning dance

Martin – a director of Photography who kept buying Hui Chin Patron shots in hopes of getting her drunk, but she kept pushing it to me. Patron’s one of the smoothest and most expensive tequillas around, so I was like, “bring it on”.

Kim – the sweaty trisexual chick in tight leather pants from the midwest.

There was lots of female-to-female kissing going on that night as well.

I didn’t know how drunk I was at the club until I tried to stand. I would have gotten a tattoo that night had the tattoo place not closed half an hour earlier than usual. We ended up sleeping in the car till I sobered up.

I strolled into the doughnut shop this morning and was assisted by a new USA Doughnut Shop employee. I peered through the thumb-printed, see-no-touch doughnut aquarium for my sugar twistee. My first left to right scan did not churn up any positive results so I had to roll my head the other way, one doughnut at a time. Sophie, my regular sugar twistee handler, knew something was wrong when a shadow of disbelief leaned across my brow. I was at a loss for words for what seemed to be an eternity. Sophie dropped her cleaning duties at the side counter and rushed to the scene of the crime.

“Why don’t you have the round sugar doughnut instead?”

I would have been outraged had those words danced from the lips of the new girl. But these were the words of the great Sophie. The girl who knew her doughnuts. It was a leap of faith, but one I knew I had to take someday.

Sophie introduced a new pallette into her hair and was surprised that I noticed and acknowledged the new hazel streaks staining her lock. I would have loved to compliment her on the new do but I was in too honest of a mood. I just didn’t think her new head was her. The new girl, the old girl with the new hairstyle, the uncharacteristic sugar twistee shortage. Have things changed or has my life become stagnant?