Party hearty marty

As a reformed party girl, I'm trying to be on my best behavior while being led into temptation. As I'm trying to break my bad college habits, I find living near the Jersey Shore in the summer a constant lure.

Growing up in Austin I had 6th Street -- a legendary seven blocks of bars/clubs (one right after another), restaurants and shops. That doesn't even include the Warehouse District or Red River sections that border 6th Street. I think there are more than 100 bars within walking distance.

I know bars/clubs are everywhere no matter how large or small the city. But living here presents a problem. There are three, yes THREE, states I could party in.

To people from here, that may not seem like a big deal, but remember, in Austin you have to drive an hour just to get to San Antonio. It takes a whole day to get out of the freakin' state.

When people invade the shore, I head north to the City or west to Philly for salvation.

I don't have to drive; I can simply take the train to NYC. And before you know it, I'm in the Lower East Side having a vodka sour or in Chelsea getting another shot from the cute Irish bartender. (Ah, memories.)

Then again, I could stay with the Bennie and party at the shore. Which is always amusing.

Everyone told me things would change at the shore during the summer.

Then I saw for myself: more people flooded the beaches, and stores and restaurants that were once closed opened their doors. Then there were the fugly men in Speedos roaming the beaches. (Yuck, memories.)

So this summer ... I may not be able to escape the Bennies but I can try to escape the tequila shots.

On the iPod: Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Dani California"