I am planning a Girls Night Out with a group of my closest girlfriends. We will spend the entire night together. We will start out at my apartment, 'getting ready' while gossiping and talking about guys who we think are cute and attainable. We will also complain about the daily grind of out jobs, and how $30-35k is not enough for what we do and how valuable we are to the company. The majority of our paychecks go towards shopping for things like sunglasses and designer purses, and the car payment for my second class 'sports car.' My personal brand is mainly built around walking in and out of restaurants and stores, wearing my expensive sunglasses, carrying my expensive bag, and entering+exiting the car that I am 80% too proud of.

GNO will be amazing. We will drive to Chili's to make sure we have a full stomach before a night where we are dedicated to 'raging.' We will order appetizers, fruity drinks, and maybe split an entree. We will text message friends and guys to 'see what they're up to tonight.' After Chili's, we will go to a high-class bar because are wearing black outfits (or maybe a popular alt-nightclub because we are wearing our interpretation of 'hipster' gear). Eventually, we will find out where a group of mediocre guys are hanging out, and we will force our way over there. The will/will not be pleased to see us.

One of the girls in the pack will lose interest, slipping into a depressed oblivion. She is a 'chunky virgin' and has never had sex/has only had 1 boyfriend who abused her. Tonight, she was supposed to be liberated. Sometimes, popular mainstream hit songs come on in the club. We dance, and mouth the lyrics to the dance song which we should not be able to identify with. This moment is relevant, because it is a moment which we replicate inside of our 2nd rate sports cars while wearing our sunglasses that 'make us feel famous.' We are a powerful consumer demographic. We are responsible for 5 of the top 10 artists of the year in the iTunes digital store.

The night will end. We will talk ourselves' into what a great time it was, creating stories that we can re-tell for years to come. We go back to my apartment--where we prepared for the night. I will warm up some more appetizers from the frozen food aisle of my local grocery store, and provide a gourmet sweet treat. We will fall asleep, drunk, full, and numb. I have no dreams, but I wake up in the middle of the night to drink a glass of water.

In the morning, we will wake up, eat a carb-y breakfast, recapping the night with tons of laughs. My plate comes with pancakes, french toast, bacon, sausage, and eggs. It helps my stomach settle.
Girls Night Over ends the morning after. I get into my Civic and drive away. I put on a song that I heard last night.

Monday will come. Back at work. Girls Night Out will be 'just another memory that we can reminisce about [via commenting on one another's facebook walls so that other people will know that we know how to party].' We will be back at our desk reading gossip blogs, draining my employer's network by spending the entire day on Facebook/myspace, and dreaming of
a Life
where every night
is not
Girls // Night // Out.