Katherine the Great: Feets don't fail me naw!

1. Split a bottle of champagne with roomie and Bennett.
2. Meandered down past West Brompton tube station to the Atlas, aka cute sloaney boy haven....although last night was barren. Saw a boy (ok he was probably 25 or 26....I'm not sure when I'm going to get to a point where I can refer to men as men and not as boys...sidenote) who looked eerily like my ex-'boyfriend' should we feel like applying that word to him...And Bennett talked to an unfriendly Australian.
3. Left. Got in cab, asked to go to Mahiki. The cab driver was rude and insulting and had never heard of it, etc and I was drunk enough to be rude and insulting back....made him pull the cab over. Bennett paid him anyway, because she has a soul. I, however, am unburdened with such a thing, so I called him an asshole and told him to fuck himself.
4. Got in another cab, went to Mahiki...line was long and Katie (as in me, in the third person) bores easily and spied a positively ridiculous looking club just across the street and suggested...if by suggesting you mean shoving Bennett into the the street....asking the bouncers about getting in. It was this ridiculous ridiculous arabic bollywood mix thing happening there and we had mai tais and were about to leave when that anthem of the American college girls came on...no, not hollaback girl. I refer, instead, to that timberlakian opus: sexyback. Well, we just had to show these creepy middle aged men and their trashy wenches how it was done...so on a dance floor replete with about 3 other people, bennett and i took to the center of the floor and i can only imagine the asses we made out of ourselves. i say this with a degree of certainty that comes from the knowledge that when you think you are being/dancing/singing, etc ever so sexily....you aren't. Instead you are making an ass out of yourself. Scientific fact...Proven. By Newton himself. He thought he was one cool cat the way he cut up the dancefloor during Handel's Messiah....only to realize he had no game at all. True story.
5. Quickly tired of arabic club without a name and decided to show up on the doorstep of a one night stand of a certain friend of ours (he lives around the corner from mahiki) and demand the return of our friend's dangly pearl earrings but we couldnt remember the fuckers name so we'd just be saying to the door person....um, we hear he was tall and american and he was a fucker who is harboring our friend's earrings! let us incredibly rational, sane, sober and non-threatening people in and I mean now!
6. Vetoed #5 and instead Katie L. directed Katie B. to 'this little place across from the ritz, no big deal we'll just have a drink.' so we go to the wolseley and wind up ordering champagne, steak tartare and two steak au poivres to the apparent shock and dismay of the waitstaff all of whom reminded us, their brows furrowed with concern, that our starter and our entrees were both steak dishes. to which katie L. replied - LAY OFF ME MAN IM STARVING.....AND IRON DEFICIENT! Then we had dessert. well....then Katie L. had dessert and Katie B. went off and threw up the whole damn dinner. The whole damn dinner she paid for because she's crazy and because in a bid to save money I deliberately brought a small amount of cash and left my card at home. Yeah that worked out reeeeeeeeally well. No I'm not being sarcastic - it really did. For me, not her. (I kid i kid).
7. Cabbed it home, bennett inflated her bed and we put on sense and sensibility and passed out.
8. Woke up at motherfucking 7am. Went to McD's for breakfast (disappointing). Walked from earl's court to fulham and then alllllll the way down fulham road to hyde park where we saw some cavalry drill and i decided i wanted a boyfriend who wore a uniform that included a sword a hat and a horse. walked through hyde park and kens gardens to notting hill then wandered through portobello road and took a wrong turn and ended up somewhere reeeeeally chavvy....ladbroke grove anyone? turned around and went all the way back to holland park, rested there and then took high st. kens all the way back to earls court. as a result, neither katie nor i have full use of our feet at this moment.