October 16, 2002 | 9:41 AM

Yesterday was Tara�s 24th birthday. She was wearing awesome legwarmers when she answered the door.

Tara, Kelly, Debbie and I all hung out in the tiny kitchen doing shots of cheap (yet children�s cough syrup delicious) blackberry brandy and smoking cigarettes. We talked about kittens and babies and farting and all kinds of other good subjects.

Then we moved into the living room and Tara serenaded us with Ani DiFranco and Rolling Stones tunes. Her guitar has improved soooooo much since I first heard her play a few years ago. I was really impressed. at the amount of diligence and effort she must have put into that, because I (as I made painfully clear in my sorry interpretation of Back on the Chain Gang one of three songs I can �play��the other two being Free Fallin� and Box of Rain-- Don�t laugh asshole.) am a shitty shitty guitarist, though I secretly fantasize about being Chrissy Hynde-esque. It�s annoying to have the voice but not the instrumental chops and always have to rely on someone else to write with and back you up. I can�t tell you how many times I would just try to hum what it was I wanted the melody to do. �Could never say,

OK we go from G flat 7 to F here.

It�s like speaking two differnt languages. My entire understanding of music is intuitive as opposed to technical. I just never had the time or patience for the math and was always (pardon my well earned pomposity) such a damned fine singer that I could get away with being clueless. This hasn�t done me a whole lot of good. I feel kind of like the pretty girl who waits around for some big strong man to marry her. Maybe I should try to learn to play guitar again. Fuck man, Kathleen Hannah played the same three chords for years. Why the hell not?

So yeah, played songs in the living room. Smoked a joint. Talked shop talk and music talk and work talk. And just had a really really nice girl�s night. I love the fucking boys so much. But sometimes it�s nice to just have an estro-fest.

Went home around 11:00, very very stoned and watched Rushmore and then re-read David Sedaris and laughed my ass off and of course went to bed way too late.

But when I woke up this morning I felt dandy and fine, walking through the downpour in my shiny scarlet dress with the business casual (?) slit up the side and black sandals. Smelling like Bath and Body works lotion and rain.

When I got to work I had scrambled eggs and sausage and they tasted so swell I almost fainted dead away.

My leather jacket actually fits me now�the cute little mod one I bought last year.

So.

Great night. Good morning. Rest of the day looks just peaches to me.