Bar Exam? Done. Now to the Bars.

It's time to celebrate my bar exam completion in Austin. Because I must have a version of everything in both the ATX and H-town. It's just what I do, people.

I meet El Dilector and GB at the hotel bar and grab a drink. El D tells me he went to two different stores to buy streamers, but he couldn't find them.

"Streamers for what?" I ask.

"Your party!" he says.

"Oh! I didn't know I rated streamers! Cool!"

"Yeah, I couldn't find them so there aren't any."

GB asks where he went to get them. He names two stores, and GB disagrees. "That's not where you go to buy streamers."

"What the hell do I know about streamers? I don't know these things but I assume my iPhone will."

Ah, the iPhone. It's a stunning marvel of technology, but I believe it has led all of us astray in one way or another, at one time or another.

GB places HIS iPhone in front of El D and I, with a weather page open. "We should all move to San Francisco," he says simply.

We gaze at the high temperatures in the seventies for the next week and sigh.

It's time to move on, and GB looks at El Dilector's somewhat casual T-shirt, jeans and Converse sneakers. "You're going out in that?"

"Yeah. Let's see how dressed down I can get and still get girls."

We decide, of course, that our first stop needs to be the Irish bar, aka Bull McCabe's, aka Jimmy's Irish Lair, aka my second home. And of course, at the door, we are immediately waved inside. No IDs needed here. We OWN this place!

At the bar, we pony up and ordre Matator--of course. (I think I have roughly four Red Bull or Matador drinks throughout the night, and this is what I believe is responsible for my rapid heartbeat and inability to sleep off my hangover the next day. ONE Red Bull drink, Shakira, ONE.)

I tell GB he smells good, and he explains that he is currently wearing his summer scent. GB has specific scents by season, and he lists for me which season and which scent are matched. I believe there is something about dividing winter in half: pre-Christmas and post. This leads to a discussion of losing one of the five senses.

"Which one would you give up?" El D asks me.

"Touch," I answer. This is because I don't want to be blind or deaf, and if I lose smell, I lose taste. And if I could not taste, life would not be worth living!

"But then you could never have an orgasm!" GB says.

"Yes, but you don't understand how much I love food," I say.

We decide that in our game, losing your sense of smell is unrelated to sense of taste. There. We all decide smell is the one to go.

"Yeah. Now, in this modern age, 90% of your day smells bad," El Dilector points out. And then: "So I woke up with four girls this morning."

I immediately start recording this in the journal.

"Wasn't that awkward? How did you all fit in the bed?" I ask.

"I BROKE UP with four girls. Not woke up."

"Ohhhhhhhhh." GB and I nearly fall off our stools laughing.

Gregorio bounces in. "I heard there was a celebration of the bar exam completion and I knew I had to attend," he says. "Let's go find some strangers and get crazy."

And that's about what happens next, and that's where my notes end. So, in summary, here's what I think happened: Barbarella, Side Bar, Beauty Bar, Barbarella. LOTS of flavored vodka, and a photo of our feet which I think is brillant at the time but confuses me the next day. At the After Party, we open the fridge and find a gigantic pizza box wedged inside. It's comical because the pizza box is the largest one I have ever seen and clearly does not fit in the fridge properly. GB and I attempt dance party, but I feel we never quite achieve it. I think he is distracted by chasing ass.

I may or may not be chasing ass too. I plead the Fifth. See?--I learned SOMETHING for the bar exam.

-Shakira 08.15.10