I have no life.

My idea of a perfect Friday evening is curling up with a book or watching a "Law & Order" marathon.

My sister calls me boring, but I like to think of it as rationing my energy.

I used to love to go out dancing, but now, I can't seem to find a beat. And once it turns 10:30, I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open.

I could use the excuse that moving in with my boyfriend has put a damper on my party-girl personality, but that would be a lie. I was always the boring one; I admit it.

I could also say that working weekend nights covering sports also diminishes my ability to meet up with my friends for a wild night out. But some of the other reporters find ways to start their nights after midnight, so that won't work either.

After easing my way back into the clubbing scene a couple of weekends ago, when I went to a bar with my friend, I decided that it would be nice to reintroduce myself to a social life again.

So when my friend, Chelsie, called me up Friday at 10:45 (yes, I was already in bed), and asked — very hesitantly — if I wanted to go out, I was practically out of my sleep clothes and into my good jeans before I could squeal about how excited I was.

One problem, though: I have no more "going-out" clothes. Just a lot of simple tops perfect for a night at the movies, but not conducive for making a fashion statement.

I realized the best part about never going out was that whatever I wore would be new to my friends, so I didn't have to worry whether they had seen me wear it before.

I had forgotten what it was like to have the bouncer check my ID (I flashed my fake smile, the same as my driver's license) and having to worry about a hand stamp staining my clothes.

But there was no thinking about dishes to be washed or clothes to be folded, and I very slowly sipped my Midori something-or-other, hoping my face wasn't turning too red from the alcohol.

Although it took a while to adjust to talking to so many people in one-minute bursts, shouting at the top of my lungs, I realized what I was missing after all this time. It reminded me that I am 26 and should be having fun.

What I didn't miss was the constant searching for my next date, checking the door every time someone new walked through, and making sure my appearance was acceptable in case Mr. Right came along.

It was fun to go out and have fun simply for the sake of having fun.

See you at Mai Tai next Friday?

Reach Leila Wai at lwai@honoluluadvertiser.com.