Our weekend begins in Lubbock—again—for graduation ceremonies. Having helped Contrary move all the way to the dust bowl three years and many beers ago, I just have to see the fruit of my labor. So I agree to head up to my ahem, favorite West Texas town. (Did anyone else catch the sarcasm there?) My decision to drive up there on a Saturday morning requires: one Starbucks venti vanilla latte with extra vanilla, one Luna bar, three bottles of water, one quarter pounder with cheese (no meat), medium fries, medium Dr. Pepper, and one bag of veggie chips. After that I feel…well, sort of human.

I drink a couple of beers at Contrary’s—nothing like a little hair ‘o the dog—and then proceed to get ready for the big graduation ceremony. Contrary leaves before Charlize and me, so we decide a big glass of box wine is in order. We search in vain for a flask to bring along with us. Damn. Have to go in sober. I hope I don’t fall asleep.

The ceremony is, as everyone expects graduation ceremonies to be, awful. I look around and count sleeping people. My buzz is wearing off and if I could just take a little cat nap…no, I will not. Instead I will whisper catty comments to Charlize about how this really really sucks. Ashton is on the other side of me and he, too, looks a bit worse for the wear. And then we’ve got White Trash Girl behind us telling her mother-in-law every single law student’s personal story. Who is this chick, anyway? She also keeps pointing to every single guy in the class and saying, “Is that your daddy?” Shit, girl, figure it out. I’m a bit confused on which ones I kissed but I didn’t have a kid with any of them!

After one billion years, we’re finally released. Okay, it was only two hours, not one billion years. Thank God they have cheese at the reception. I load up my plate with cheese chunks and veggies. I’m still not quite right, and I blame the wicked Baby A’s margaritas from the night before. Those things are probably illegal in some states.

I digress. It’s on to dinner at Jazz, where I find that the Bloody Marys make for an excellent hangover cure, even 12 hours after waking up with said hangover. Two of those, a couple of hush puppies and some delicious garlic mashed potatoes have a girl like me raring to go. What’s that? Did someone say karaoke?

We head out for Adolph’s, open a tab and let the good times—I mean the vanilla Smirnoff—roll. I ask for a tall glass and instead get a fat one. Does that really make up for the tall? And please, will someone accidentally get me a double? I’m just not feeling it. Contrary’s brother, who we will affectionately refer to as Japanese Tourist, is just taking it all in. What, they don’t have bars like this in Seattle? He notes with glee that gift certificates are actually available at Adolph’s. Hey! What a perfect graduation gift!

Charlize puts us all to shame with her beautiful renditions of old country hits. I myself decide a little “I Will Survive” is in order. I’m so fabulous that as I leave the stage, a young boy with stars in his eyes (and a tent in his pants) pulls me aside to tell me that I am better than anything he’s ever seen on American Idol. He wonders why I haven’t tried out. Whatever. You’re still not getting any from me, fool.

The real treat of the night comes when this delicious man (did you catch the sarcasm there again?) gets up in his red shiny shirt. It’s sort of a jersey material with nothing printed on it and we’re lucky enough to see his sculpted arms and chest, owing to the V-neck design and short cap sleeves. What is up with this dude? Japanese Tourist is loving it, and Contrary takes his camera up to the stage. Red Shiny Shirt totally mugs for the camera.

As he’s finished, he comes back to our table, looks at Contrary and mutters, “Aw, now, that ain’t right.”

Huh? What isn’t right? Taking the picture? Or the fact that Contrary is with Ashton and obviously can’t get with Red Shiny Shirt tonight? Whatever it is, it has us doubled over in giggles. Hey waitress! More Smirnoff! I’m waiting for that buzz to return. Contrary decides that before we go, I owe her one more graduation gift—what, like my presence wasn’t present enough?—and it’s a Britney Spears song. To the club’s delight, I do my version of “Ooops I Did It Again.” To all the boys I love…right…now…yeah, this is my theme song. Come on, I’m not that innocent.

Congratulations, Contrary and happy gradu-ma-tation.

-Shakira 05.16.04