Full of babies

I just sent a text to Mack, who woke me up at 8:30 (no joke, although the fulford fire alarm woke me at 7:30... jerks) to ask how things were going, and to inquire on the scene here. "Hate to say it but a night out in ox is full of babies and is killing my love of the party." True true. Lame music, lame boys, expensive drinks, expensive everything, its just not worth the hassle of putting makeup on, trekking down there, scoping the scene, which invariably sucks, trying to have a good time, lowering one's standards, failing anyways, then trekking home! Not to mention the fact that everyone is younger than me. Lame. But on the other hand, this is an excellent development. It means that I won't spend the money, drink too much or waste my time. Time that could be otherwise spent... oh... working. Which is fine. Its just that sometimes I think back to Montreal, to my favourite holes and to all the good times we've had, and wish that I could have some of that back. Anjali used to get so stir crazy after too long without a good raucous night out, and I am afraid I may be going the same way. Desperate for entertainment.