A month in review: Ten things I learned in February

1. You will not die if you don't go out every weekend. In fact, a little self-imposed self-bonding (not to be confused with self-bondage, which doesn't appeal to me, or make any sense at all, really) time can make an otherwise mediocre month pretty fantastic. This is particularly true if it involves consuming entire bottles of wine in the bath while reading classic literature, furtively watching American Idol in your PJ's and leopard-print slippers and yelling to no one in particular that Taylor Hicks is going "all the way" before finding out he has an album out already and ordering it (express 2-day delivery) followed by a brief inner debate revolving around whether or not to take advantage of yourself (alcohol-impaired judgement) before luckily passing out first.

2. On karaoke: If I consume a couple pitchers of beer and at least two vodka shots at my favorite dive karaoke bar, the chances are much better than I'd like to admit that I will sing.

3. On karaoke #2: Because of the divey nature of the bar, there will only be the top 100 most-sung karaoke songs of all time in the book, three of which I will perform. At least one will be Bonnie Raitt, one will be the Gwyneth Paltrow-Huey Lewis version of "Cruisin'" (which, while cliche, I will totally fucking nail with one of the poor schmucky old regulars I will recruit to sing the Huey parts), and one will be "Son of A Preacher Man", which I will sing like the 300 lb black woman I am inside.

4. On karaoke #3: Following this showing I will inevitably sign autographs, have another shot, and hold phone conversations I will not remember in the morning.

5. I am surprised to discover that I am both more spontaneous and more old-fashioned than I previously thought. I am more surprised to discover that I am totally OK with this.

6. Waffles at 3:30 a.m., no matter how good they sound, are NOT a good idea, and will result in the greatest hangover of your life - the kind where all you can do is lay on the floor in a king-sized comforter drinking diet Pepsi and slipping in and out of consciousness while Sex and the City reruns play.

7. Renton is a scary, scary place, and when you find yourself there at night, alone, and are sitting at a stoplight on Martin Luther King Drive, a crackhead will inevitably walk up to your car and begin yelling and pounding on your windows for no apparent reason beyond the fact that you are clearly a terrified little white girl who is so very, very lost. At this point, resist with all your might the urge to reach down and lock your doors, which could further encourage the man to be incredibly scary. It will be difficult, but instead focus all your energy on willing the light to turn green. Then run every single light after that until you're back on I-5 pointed, finally, home.

8. Bulldog pee, when hitting a recycling bin on a cold day, smells like battery acid.

9. It is possible to live on approximately $7.50 per day. Not comfortable, but possible. It is also possible to overdraw your bank account by almost one full paycheck. This makes payday a little more depressing than usual.

10. You can drive a Pontiac Vibe around the Sea-Tac airport for nearly 4 hours (making close to 60 loops) looking for your parents on just under one quarter tank before almost running out of gas/going completely apeshit and running over one of those police ladies with the batons who beats on your window and yells that you must not drive in the load/unload zones. (The authorities are less sympathetic to you if you back up and run her over repeatedly.)

Now, on to March. What is it? In like a lion, out like a lamb? Oh, goodie!