Perhaps this would be a good time to introduce to you the lovely women Shawn and I were visiting. They've both been mentioned numerous times before, but I don't think I've ever just laid out who they are.

Gretchen was my first college friend. She shocked me the other day by announcing that we've now been buddies for 8 years. She's smart, ambitious, funny and flirty. Her head is The Human Calendar - seriously, that shit's freaky. Gretchen is the palest and blondest a person can be without being an all out albino. She's fiercely loyal. I lived with Gretchen and Shannon my junior year of college.

I met Shannon because we lived in the same hallway my sophomore year. I lived with both of them junior year, but with Shannon senior year. Up until Shawn moved in, I'd have told you Shannon was by far the best roommate I've ever had. She's teeny and cute and looks like a teenager. People are always shocked when I tell them she's older than me, and I never get carded more than when she and I go out together. Shannon is one of the best listeners in the world, she feels things very deeply, and she has this crazy wisdom about her that she whips out every now and then. She understands me better than just about anybody. Oh, and every time I take Shannon somewhere new, someone falls in love with her. Clockwork.

Now that you know everyone, let's get back to the shopping. A million impulse buys later, I no longer owned a debit card. In its place is a pile of smoldering ashes, and NO MONEY. God, I shopped like a champ. The card no longer has the raised words and numbers - they were all rubbed flat after multiple swipes through those machines.

On the way home, Shannon worked on getting us on the list for The Highlands, which is apparently some exclusive new club that's just about impossible to get into. When we got back to Shannon's we all got ready and picked up some Thai food to take over to Gretchen's. We ate, looked at some college photos, and left for Beauty Bar at about midnight. Late start, and it's weird - Shawn and I are used to clubs being open until 4 p.m. A 2 a.m. closing time seems punishingly early.

Many of L.A.'s bars and clubs have themey themes. Beauty Bar was kind of a hair salon spinoff - you could get a manicure, and the chairs had those hair dryer domes attached. (Shannon says drinking and manicures don't mix - apparently she woke up one morning with her fingernails stuck to her forehead.)

We got some cocktails and headed back to the smoking room. We all know you can't smoke ANYWHERE in California, and so I love smoking rooms. They're also the friendliest place in any given bar.

Two or three cocktails later, we moved on to Star Shoes, a club based on - wait for it - a shoe store. It was actually pretty cool - it looks exactly like a shoe shop from the outside, and there were glass cases on the inside walls holding all these crazy antique shoes. The DJ kicked ass in this club, and Gretchen befriended a bartender who started making stiff, stiff drinks.

We all then proceeded to befriend a gang of very tall guys who looked like our after-hours hook-up. We were leaving with said guys - Shawn and Shannon right behind them, and Gretch and me a few paces back. I glanced at Gretchen and happened to notice her vomiting into her own drink. She took off for the bathroom, and Shannon appeared.

Shannon: "Where's Gretchen?" Me: "She just puked. She's in the bathroom." Gang of Cute, Tall Guys: "See ya!"

We dropped Shannon off at her boyfriend's, then Shawn and I went to Gretchen's.

And we got bored.

And we never know when to quit.

So when Gretchen said, "Well, I know of one bar that's open, and it's within walking distance..."

Shawn and I grabbed our purse and were out the door before Gretchen could even finish with, "...but it's a gay bar."

Me: "Good! I love gay bars!"

And thus began our trek to Spike: The Gayest Gay Bar Of All Gay Time In Gay History Throughout The Gay Universe.

They were so gay, we were not welcome. Forget about getting a break on the cover, we could barely get the bouncer to let us by. Once inside, I found myself dancing in a throbbing mass of shirtless gay men. There was a cloud of gay sweat smell that filled the room.

Gretchen came up to me and said, "Hey, I need a break and a drink - let's go back to my place for a beer and come back."

So we did, picking up two cutie gay guys on the way. They were both rolling, so we'll call them the Gay Extasy Brothers. Once we finished the drink and got back to Spike, the Gay Extasy Brothers took off, holding hands. We're such matchmakers. We continued with the gay sweaty dancing. And people, please. How the hell, in the Gayest Gay Bar In The Gay Solar System, do I still manage to get some jackass freaking all over my butt?

Anyway.

Shawn had had enough of the Extreme Gay Gayness, so we decided Denny's was the only thing to do.

I ordered about 9 random, unrelated things. Chicken wings, sure! Waffles with that? Absolutely! Want some potatoes? Okay!

It was the best food ever, and not just because we'd been drinking for 11 years. It was seriously fabulous.

After breakfast, we were standing outside, Shawn and me sharing a cigarette 'cause you can't smoke in Gretchen's car. A carful of men pulled up, and for some reason, began talking to us. It didn't take us long to realize that they thought we were hookers and tell them to go to hell.

Why would they think that? Just because we're still wearing revealing going-out-clubbing clothes, standing on a street corner in a group, looking strung out as hell at 7 a.m.... We just couldn't figure that one out.

We went to bed, and slept until 2 p.m. Saturday.

To be continued...