I Can't Seem To Control the Snot Flow

I feel:: sick
There's no music. No nothing. I can't even stand the slightest noise.

I don't recommend crying intermittently all day and through the night. It fucks up your sinuses, makes your eyes swell nearly shut and gives you a headache that makes you think Thor's hammer is hitting your head repeatedly along with a pickaxe. Not to mention, it leaves you with thoughts of cutting, makes you rock yourself like a crazy person and call up guys that you have a serious crush on in the middle of the night in the midst of having multiple panic attacks, flashbacks and just generally sounding like a person who ought to be in the nut house.



I feel:: bouncy
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: Rammstein~Mein Teil

And......MARSHALL IS COMING OVER TO SEE ME TODAY!!!! Maybe I'll get some more hugs. *having naked chest flashbacks*


Shootin' the Shit and Singin' Porno Songs

I feel:: amused
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: A Perfect Circle~Sleeping Beauty

Last week I was in Barnes and Noble waiting on Tanya and Sally to arrive so I could give them their Valentine's Day presents. I managed to make my way through the door with not a little amount of stares from onlookers as I negotiated my way around the magazine racks toward the cafe with my armload of gifts. I looked around for a table suitable for three, but there were none available and to my irritation, there would have been except for a lone woman, who appeared to be in her mid-forties, sitting at a table meant for four. So, I took the table for two and hoped that there would be an extra chair when the third party arrived. I placed the gifts on the small cafe table and proceeded to wait for my friends to arrive. While I was waiting, two other forty-ish women, with Barnes and Noble bags in tow, came to sit with the first woman. They eventually were all taking turns looking at a certain book and having quite an animated conversation, albeit under their collective breaths, about it. I didn't really pay them too much mind, because I was still so irritated that I had these gifts sitting on a table that was too small for them and only one other chair available when I needed two. In my mind, at that moment, it was that one lone woman's fault that I didn't have the thing that I wanted. I know it's an irrational thought, but everyone is entitled to irrational thoughts sometimes. Right?

After a few more minutes of intense conversation and passing of the book, the three women got up to leave. Relieved, I moved my things to the larger table only to discover that it was sticky with sugar and coffee. Releasing a very audible sigh of disgust, I went in search of a table rag, but there was none to be found. So, I was left to my own devices, which can sometimes be....interesting. Suffice it to say that the table got a spit bath with a paper napkin compliments of me. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that that is so disgusting, but I figured since I was the one using the table at the time and that Sally, Tanya and I have all exchanged spit through sharing one another's drinks and eating after one another so many times over the years of our friendships, that it wasn't really that big of a deal. Anyway, that's my rationalization and I'm sticking to it.

As I settled myself into my chair at my newly larger and spit-bath cleaned table, I noticed that there was a book laying on the table which evidently the last group of ladies had left. It was a rather small book, thin, with a shiny black cover. When I looked at it the first time this is what I saw: A naked man photographed with his naughty bits strategically covered and the title in a large, white font, 'BLOW HIM'. Of course, you know, that I had to pick it up just to see if what my initial impression told me was right. It was. What I didn't notice; however, was the much smaller word under the large title which was, 'Away'. So, the whole title was 'Blow Him Away' and then in much, much smaller lettering at the bottom of the front page: "How to give him mind-blowing oral sex."

How could I NOT open this book? I perused it while waiting for Sally and Tanya to arrive. Sally was the first to get there and I immediately shared the contents of what I had found in the book. She grabbed it out of my hand and started flipping through the pages laughing. We eventually got to the back of the book where the authors had conveniently put illustrations to go along with the instructions on various ways to become the ultimate fellatrix. A few of the titles: "Going to Church", "Sword Swallower" (which produced in me a volley of very uncontrollable giggles), and "Deep Throat". The illustration for that one had the woman lying on her back with her head hanging upside down from the end of the bed. I thought, "Not only would that make me vomit, it would most likely make me super dizzy." I told this to Sally to which she responded through giggles, "It would make me vomit too!" We also came upon a technique without an illustration called "The Cotton Candy Stretch". I won't describe it for you, but I will say that it reminded me of my times at the dentist's office where when he would finish doing whatever he was doing in my mouth, would say, "Ok, now spit." Then, invariably I would get this long line of spit connected from my lip to the little sink beside the chair.

Tanya arrived a bit later after we had had our fill of the informative little book. They both opened their Valentine's Day gifts from me and as we were in conversation, I looked across the table at Tanya and said smirking, "You know, I found the most interesting book sitting on the table when I sat down here." She looked dubious and said, "I'm almost afraid to ask what it was." I produced the book, she took one look at the title page and flipped it over quickly with a flourish while putting her other hand over her mouth, giggling. Her face was crimson. So, then Tanya got a little slide show of the informative illustrations and instructions that Sally and I had previously read which produced in her not a little embarassment.

At the end of the night, all three of us were holding our stomachs from laughing so hard. Even though it was a bit embarassing to read in public, I actually thought about buying it just for the information. I was also thinking that I wished I had had it for my Psychosexual Behavior class I took a couple of semesters ago. It thought it really was an interesting book despite the fact that I giggled all through it like a schoolgirl. I suppose that no matter how old I am, I'll always in some ways be that little giggling girl.


Have A Coke And A Smile And Shut the Fuck Up

I feel:: angry
I'm just watchin' the birdies hop around on the snow. It's calming. I know I'm odd (shut up).

I haven't lost any weight this week.

I called him yesterday. He hasn't called me back.



I need to visit the Emerald City. Where's the Great and Powerful Oz when I need him?

I feel:: anxious
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: Tori Amos~Icicle

I need some courage.

I gave a Valentine card yesterday to someone that I've liked for a very long time. I wrote a letter and stuck it inside. After I wrote the letter, I went to his house and delivered it to him myself.

I knocked on his door for awhile and was about to leave when he answered and came out on his porch shirtless with only a pair of jeans. Distracted? Yes, I was. Very. Not to mention the fact that he'd just gotten out of the shower and he smelled all clean like soap. Plus, he had just finished blowdrying his incredibly long, incredibly blond hair and it was all shiny.

I was all, "Ummm (don'tlookathisnakedchestdon'tlookathisnakedchestdon'tlookathisnakedchest)...I got you an Anti-Valentine's Day card," which I then thrust into his hand. He said, "An Anti-Valentine's Day card? I've never heard of that before." (Don'tlookathisnakedchestdon'tlookathisnakedchestdon'tlookathisnakedchest) I said,"Well, that's probably because I just came up with it." Coyly, he responded, "So, how many other people did you give Anti-Valentine's Day cards to?" Just as coyly, I said, "No one, cuz you're special like that." So, he tore open the envelope, read the card, laughed and said that he would read the letter later.

So, we just stood there on his porch, he with his bulging bare chest and me trying to notice the lattice work on the porch. He said,"It's a really nice day today." I said,"Yeah, it's really pretty." (Oh God, here we go with the small talk. IwanttotouchhischestIwanttotouchhischest.) I turned toward him, took him all in with one sweeping look and said sheepishly,"I would have called you before I came over, but I've never had your phone number." He laughed and replied, "Well, I never thought I'd have the need for another phone number. I don't even think I know my phone number. It's listed, though." (Note to self: look up his phone number when you get home.)
He thanked me for the card and said, "The next time we all go to a movie, I'll have to call you up," after which he hesitated and said, "I don't know when we'll do that but..." I am such the saviour. I covered for him and said casually, "Richard and Kacey have my number if you want to get in touch with me."
We remained on his porch for a few more minutes when I noticed that he had crossed his arms over his chest either from noticing my obvious attempts to try not to look at it or because he was cold. One look at his headlights told me that he was rather chilly, so I said,"You're probably cold, so go inside, put some clothes on and I'll see you later." He tapped the card on his hand, smiled at me, thanked me again for it, then came towards me with his arms open as if for a hug (Oh God-nakedchestnakedchestnakedchestnakedchest). I hugged him with a full on frontal hug, not one of those 'We're just friends' side hugs. He hugged me really tightly back. OH. MY. GOD. (The only thing I could think of at that moment, besides the fact that his naked flesh was against me and how good he smelled, was how glad I was that I had taken my Klonopin earlier that day, otherwise I'd be having a heart attack right about now.)

After the hug, I said good-bye or "I'll see you later", or some version of the two. I really don't remember what I said, actually. I had to hold on to the railing of the stairs of his porch in order to make it down without falling. I got into my car, pulled out of his driveway, started the drive home and then freaked out. I called Tanya and said, "Hey, I just gave Marshall the Anti-Valentine's Day card and I just wanted to let you know that I'm kinda freaked out, so I'll talk to you later, k?" Right after that, I called Sally and said basically the same thing. They both laughed at me and told me that everything would be alright. All I can say at this point is that it's a good thing I had a 2 hour and 40 minute class to go to right after that or else I would have sat at home and just had myself a good old panic attack. As it was, I had to go to Drug Abuse class, which kept my mind occupied at least until 8:40, but when I got into my car to drive home, he was all I could think about. I had a million thoughts running through my head, the majority of which concerned him being freaked out that I gave him a Valentine's card in the first place. I kept trying to console myself, by reliving the conversation we had on his porch and how his face lit up when he saw that it was me standing at his door. Nevertheless, when I got home, I took another Klonopin and went to bed. I had constant dreams of him last night. None that I can remember right now, though.

This is sickeningly sweet, isn't it? My teeth are starting to ache from the sweetness.


Rammstein and morning coffee=Perfect

I feel:: cheerful
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: Rammstein~Morgenstern

You know.....when I first sat down at my computer about 45 minutes ago, I thought, "I think I might listen to some nice, calming, easy, morning music to go along with my coffee because I'm not quite awake yet." I tried to listen to some Christian worship music, but for some reason, that ground my nerves after about 5 seconds so much so that I was reminded of the times in the car in high school when Great White would come on the radio and I would nearly wreck the car because I couldn't change the station fast enough (I'm not downing Great White or anything. I just don't like that one song, 'Once Bitten Twice Shy'.) So anyway....as I was scrolling through the list of CDs that I have burned to my computer, I stopped on the latest Rammstein cd 'Reise, Reise' and have been listening to it without any grinding of the nerves ever since. What does that say about me that I would rather listen to hardcore industrial in a semi-awake state than something more calm, like Enya? Well, Enya is probably not a good example, because I really like Enya. It's just that one band I chose this morning. I used to like them, but I think now I'm going to sacrifice their CD to the bad music gods. There's no accounting for taste is there? I'll chalk that one up to another in a long list of bad judgement calls.

Oh yeah, Happy VD Day everybody.


I think all the acid I did as a teenager is coming back on me.

I feel:: calm
I'm watching Olympic Women's Hockey~bloodshed :)

Oh, I can't believe I almost forgot to write this down. Last night I dreamt that I was kidnapped by an Iraqi terrorist group who spoke only Spanish. When they found out I spoke Spanish, they used me as an interpreter and that meant that I had to shake everyone's right hand (ewww) because I was a stupid, dirty, American whore. I finally was rescued and when I came home, my dad had completely remodeled our house. It was so amazing, but the funny thing was, there was a urinal in the hallway and at the top of it there was a faucet like a sink.


I chase after courage. It's like a floating balloon that I can only occasionally grasp the tail of.

I feel:: disappointed
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: Enya~Paint The Sky With Stars

I already know that I'm a big girl, so anyone that sees fit to tell me what I already know will not be looked upon kindly at all.

I'm starting a weight loss program with supervision of my family doctor. I'm going to be excercising with Yoga and Pilates. I'm also taking Xenecal as of yesterday. I not only want to lose weight so that I can feel better about myself, but also, let's face it I'm 35. My weight is only going to keep going up and up and up as I get older. I have to get control of it now. I also have a lot of hip and back pain because of my scoliosis. My back muscles spasm a lot due to the curvature of my spine, also since I have scoliosis, my pelvis doesn't sit midline, which means that one of my legs is longer than the other. This is why whenever people see me, I'm most often leaning on my left leg with my right leg kicked out. Anyway, because of my pelvis not being midline, I have a lot of hip joint pain. We all also know that I have ginormous, hugungeous breasts. That also puts strain on my back. I think each of my breasts weighs about 5 or 6 pounds. The excess weight I'm carrying around on my body doesn't help anything either. Put all of this together and you've got me going through Ibuprofen like tic-tacs. I think last night I only actually slept like 2 or 3 hours because of hip and back pain. It's time to do something about it, instead of always complaining about how fat I am.

I'm not going to be keeping a food journal or anything like that, because that triggers my eating disorders. My doctor said since I'm taking the Xenecal, I should only mildly reduce my caloric intake and I would still lose weight, because the medicine is a fat blocker that works in the intestines. It's got some pretty messy side effects if I don't watch myself as far as fatty foods go. I won't go into that because it grosses even me out. That's saying a lot. It's worth it if I can ease my chronic pain.

I'm feeling better since my last post. I kind of, well more than kind of, had a manic episode. I bought four pairs of shoes, two tops and a pair of jeans in two days and yesterday I put $200 down on a solid wood wardrobe. (I have 2 more payments of $225 to make on it before I can actually have it.) I really need the extra storage space because my closets are so small. I've always wanted a wardrobe ever since I first read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe as a child. I guess I still wish I could be transported to Narnia.

I applied for food stamps about 2 months ago. My status is still pending even though the D.H.S. and my caseworker have all of the paperwork they need. I also applied for Medicaid, which is also still pending. I haven't heard anything from S.S.I., which I started the paperwork for before I started the paperwork for the food stamps and Medicaid. Although, I'm rethinking getting on government disability. I want to finish college and actually work as a Psychologist. Disability payments aren't that much and that makes life really limiting. I don't like limits. I want to be able to do what I want with my life.

Regarding my last post, I hope I didn't alienate any of you by being so emotional about the subject of abortion. It's one of those things that really cuts into my heart. That's not to say that I'm one of those people that think abortion should be totally illegal. As I posted on dancingchaplain's journal, the way I figure it is that women who want abortions will get them whether or not they are illegal. I also think that in the case of ectopic pregnancies (pregnancies that occur outside of the uterus and usually kill the mother if left to themselves) abortion should definitely be available to those women. Also, sometimes, unfortunately, women marry or live with men who think that they are entitled to have sex with them any time they feel like it, which means a lot of unwanted pregnancies. While I personally would never have an abortion unless it was an extreme circumstance, I can understand women who have had so many children who just can't physically have any more or can't afford to have any more. I think there is a better alternative, like birth control, but that's not always available. I hope you guys can accept me for who I am and how I feel regarding this issue. I know that it's extremely controversial and a very touchy issue especially among women. I can't help the way I feel.

My best childhood friend had an abortion when she was in her very early twenties because she was afraid her boyfriend, now husband, would leave her if she didn't. If my memory serves me, I believe he actually told her that he would. She called me freaking out and wanted me to help her with the details. She came up with the money and made the appt. for herself. I took her to her appt., waited while the procedure was being performed, took her home and stayed with her for several days to make sure that she didn't like bleed to death or anything. At the time, I was also in my early twenties and I had fallen for the lie that abortion clinics tell you that the life growing within you is just a "mass of tissue". I didn't know anything about how babies form, so the impact of what happened didn't really hit me until she had another pregnancy, which in itself is amazing because a lot of women who undergo abortions can't conceive afterwards. When she had her second pregnancy, I had just gotten back from California working with a church called Sanctuary and their pro-life ministry, Sanctuary Life. I had read up on how babies are formed in the womb and what happens when. When brainwaves start (6 weeks in utero), when they can feel, hear and things like that. I remember sitting with her after she had her little girl, Kayleigh, and just thinking about the other baby that was gone. She was in her second trimester when she had her abortion, which means that she was about 3 or 4 months along. I mourn her first daughter every year on the day she was killed. She would be 16 this year if she had lived.


A Snippet

I feel:: irate
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: the snippet of this song I just posted

A curse, a curse upon their heads. Lord, heal them now or slay them dead. A curse, a curse who will deny God's image in mankind.


Long story short (too late)-Pt. 4

I feel:: cranky
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: no music just now and strangely, there's nothing in my head

I left off on my last entry when Sally, D and I were going to IHOP to get food.

Ordering food was, to say the least, entertaining considering how drunk D was and how when he tried to order his food in Spanish, he totally mutilated the words.

After IHOP, Sally headed home and I drove D out to his house (BFE 'member?). I pulled up in his "driveway". I use that term loosely because what he had was not really a driveway, but more like a spot where the ground sloped up in the front of his house. He asked me to come inside. He said that he had some artwork that he wanted me to see. When I stepped inside, the whole right wall of his living room was covered in graffiti style art. I can appreciate art in almost any form, so I thought it was kind of cool. So, we sat in his living room and talked for a long time, during which, he smoked two joints. After he was good and high (God, he was so freakin' high.), he asked me if I was tired and told me that he was going to crash. He said, "You're more than welcome to crash with me if you want to." Against my better judgement, I followed him into his bedroom and curled up underneath the covers of his amazingly comfy bed. (Most guys I've ever met don't have very comfortable beds. I find that odd.) He flipped on the tv and then turned on a DVD. It was the movie 'Stealth'. He watched it for a little while. I dozed. He smoked two more joints while watching the movie, fell asleep for a little while, woke up and then took some hits off his bong. (Yes...he was amazingly good-looking, but yes...I was amazingly disappointed.) He eventually fell asleep again and I slept on and off fitfully. Eventually, around 10am, after sitting up in his bed for about 20 minutes inspecting what he had in his room, I got up and began to nose around his house. (I'm so nosey, I know.) I turned the corner from the living room into the kitchen and immediately saw 6 empty 1 gallon rum bottles lined up on the floor. I then inspected his fridge/freezer and found 2 more 1 gallon rum bottles nestled in the freezer. He actually did have quite a bit of food in his cabinets and fridge. I'll give him that. At least he wasn't living on Ramen. He woke up soon after I did, went to the freezer, procured one of the rum bottles, sat down in the chair in the living room and said, "You ever get the shakes?" Bloody hell. He started nursing his rum bottle in earnest right then and after 10 or so good slugs, put it down momentarily to roll a joint. As he pulled out his pot storage box from underneath the chair he was sitting in, he said, "I'll feel better after I get high." So, I sat on his couch and watched him alternate smoking pot and drinking rum for about an hour or so. I guess he got the munchies, because eventually he asked me if I was hungry and went to make breakfast. He made eggs, bacon and biscuits. That was nice, at least. After breakfast was over, he smoked another joint. I just sat there on the sofa watching him fade in and out for a little while, when I decided that I wanted to leave. So, I gathered my sweater and my purse, put my shoes on and drove home. That's it. A pretty limp ending to a very fun weekend. I keep telling myself that I should feel lucky that he showed his true self right up front.

I'm still disappointed, though. He's a pretty sad figure. Full-fledged alcoholic at 24? That's quite an achievement and sad, to say the very least.

I haven't talked to him since last Sunday. I don't think I'll hear from him again. I could see it in his eyes when he realized that I knew what condition he was in. I don't think he wants to be around me anymore. It might be too hard for him. I told him at one point Sunday morning as I was watching him drink to get "well" that I thought he was in serious self-destruct mode because he had asked me if I thought he should slow down. Living with my dad, who is an active alcoholic, having lived for a long time with my mother who was/is an alcoholic, having both sets of my grandparents be alcoholic, I know better than to think that a person in that state will listen to anything I have to say. I knew that if I tried to go into anything with him, it will be just like talking to a wall.


Still hitchin' the toe out, but not so far- Pt. 3.

I feel:: contemplative
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: Tori Amos~Winter

Where I left off: I was headed for a baby shower and had told D that I would call him when it was over.

I arrived at the baby shower a bit late, but not too late for the beginning of the festivities. Everyone had to cut off a piece of ribbon in the length they thought that was as big around as Jenny's pregnant belly (Jenny was the girl who was being given the baby shower.) Needless to say, mine was way off. After that, she got to open her presents and I was appointed to be the present/trash handler. So, I sat at her feet on the floor and handed her her presents while she sat in the recliner and opened them. She got a shitload of stuff for her soon-to-be-born baby girl. (She's going to name her Avery.) We all signed a matte that was around a picture frame where Avery's picture would soon be. Jenny said she was going to frame it later and put it in the baby's room so that she would have that memory of everyone she loved being at her baby shower.

After the present-opening, it was time to get our eat on. Jenny's mother, Linda, was hosting the baby shower and she had gone all out with the sweets. She made this huge strawberry cake and little cupcakes with lots of white icing and pastel sprinkles on top of them. (When she began to cut that delicious pastry and said, "Who wants some strawberry cake?" I was the first one to yell from the living room, "Mememe!!!") She had a serving bowl full of things like mints, Hershey's kisses, M&Ms (peanut), white chocolate-dipped pretzels...I can't remember what all else. She also had made some sort of chocolate pie, which I couldn't eat because by the time I found it, I was so geeked out on sugar that I was visibly shaking. She had also interspersed different colored Snowballs throughout the table. Y'all remember those, right? They're big and gooshy with creamy stuff on the inside. Very sweet. Cause sugar comas. Not only did I eat a staggering amount of sugar-coated, chocolate-coated everything, I also had like 3 cups of coffee (with sugar because there was no Splenda or Equal) So, by the time I left to come home, I was literally so geeked that my jaw was clenched and my hands were holding the steering wheel of my car like vice grips. I was reminded of the [sarcasm] "good old days" [/sarcasm] when I used to do a lot of cocaine. It had a similar effect. I thought about calling D on the drive home, but then I thought better of it, thinking to myself, "I can't subject him to all of this. I'll be talking 90 miles an hour without stopping for a breath and I'll sound like a fucking loon." I talk some crazy shit when I'm on a sugar high.

So, I went home and forced myself to lay down in my bed. I had trouble relaxing at first. You know when you're trying to go to sleep, but when you close your eyes, they don't want to stay closed. They keep spasming from your effort of trying to keep them closed. I finally had to pull the covers completely over my head so that I was in complete darkness (I have a really thick comfortor.) and lay my fingers on my eyelids to keep them shut. Well, as things that go up must eventually come down, so did I. About 45 minutes later. During that 45 minutes, I just laid there underneath my comfortor holding my eyelids shut with my brain going everywhere like a pinball machine ball. I couldn't concentrate on anything for very long. I was actually, actively trying not to think about anything, but you know when you "try" not to think, that's all you can do is think. I finally fell asleep and was out for a good two hours or so. When I woke up, I felt like I was moving through jello. Like someone had given me a good shot of Thorazine. I made it to the bathroom and caught sight of myself in the mirror. Yikes. I looked like I was majorly strung out. Pupils dilated, dark circles under my eyes, skin paler than normal (I'm pretty pale anyway, so you can imagine how pale I was right then.) and my eyelids were at half mast like I had been smoking pot. Just for shits and giggles, I walked (shuffled) into the kitchen and took a reading of my blood sugar: 40. (My blood sugar monitor was flashing: DANGER DANGER DANGER!!!) People start passing out and seizing at around 30 or 35. No wonder I was feeling like shit-on-a-stick.

I went back to my room and laid in my bed for about half an hour thinking about whether or not I should call D and whether or not I even wanted to go out that night. I mustered my resolve and called D, after all, I had promised Tanya that I would go out with her that night. He had just gotten out of the shower. He gave me directions again to his house, which I confirmed because I knew if I didn't I'd get lost. It's hell trying to drive in low blood sugar fog. I got dressed (Not "dressed up". We're talking jeans and a black wife-beater that had a Black Sabbath logo on the front.) and sort of fixed my make up and hair. I followed D's directions and it turned out that he lives out in freakin' BFE. His "back yard" is about an acre of land and his nearest neighbor is about 1/2 mile down the road.

Anyway, he got in my car and we headed for the club called "Sport's Page" where we were to meet Sally and Tanya. Tanya called while we were on the way there wanting to know where we were and said that parking was a bitch. That I would probably have to park like a couple of blocks away because all parking was on the street since the club was downtown. Then, she told me that she went on a shopping spree that day. I was all, "You must've gotten your refund check from school." She continued excitedly telling me what she'd gotten. Then, she got really animated when she talked about the leather, knee-high lace up kickyouinyourass black platform boots that she had gotten on sale. They had originally been $70.00, but had been marked down to $20.00. I was all, "And the heavens opened... and the angels sang Ha-lle-lu-jah!" (I really did sing "hallelujah" in the obligatory falsetto voice.)

We finally found the club. It was right next door to a club I had been to before called The Factory, which is a gay/lesbian bar. I circled the block once and found a parking space right in front of the bar. (Front parking space mojo rocks!) D and I emerged from my car, walked toward the door of the bar and found several women standing there discussing something. They all turned to look at me at one point, but I wasn't listening to what was being discussed. I was just irritated that they were standing in the doorway jabber-jawing and blocking my way. A few seconds later, one of the women came over to me and said, "I'm sorry, you must not have heard what we were talking about." Right then, I was still irritated and thought to myself, "Why would I even be the slightest bit interested about what you and your friends were talking about?" Then she said, "You have the most beautiful breasts." As usual, I never know what to say, especially to a comment like that and especially from a woman. I think I blushed and mumbled, "Thank you," then everyone laughed and we made our way inside the bar.

I spotted Sally and Tanya right off and headed straight for them. (When I got to the booth where Sally and Tanya were, I said teasingly, "Hey, Tanya, I got a front parking space." Her jaw dropped and she said frustrated, "GODDAMMIT! I HAD TO PARK LIKE TWO BLOCKS AWAY!! This is a running joke between the three of us. They always say I get the front-most parking spaces and when I'm not around, Sally gets them. What's funny/frustrating is that Tanya SHOULD be getting all the front parking spaces because SHE'S the one with the handicapped tag on her car.) I thought D was right behind me, but when I got to where they were sitting and turned around, he wasn't there. I searched and eventually found him bellied up to the bar ordering a pitcher of beer. I asked the bartender for a Jack and Diet, to which he replied, "Sorry, we only have beer." I made a sour face, then he said, "But I do have some of that Bacardi Raz malt liquor shit." So, I got one of those. It wasn't too bad. Not much alcohol content, so it was kind of like drinking a Rasberry soda.

The first thing I noticed when I sat down was that there was band equipment set up, but no band was playing. They had a big-screen television behind all the band equipment sitting a bit higher than everything else-on a shelf of some sort-playing a German documentary-in German. After that movie was over, they put in another one that looked like some sort of art/film school student project. It had clips of old silent movies and clips of an old movie of the Passion of the Christ. I think it also had some swastikas flashing on and off during several scenes, but I could be wrong about that. I wasn't actually watching it too closely. I mainly just craned my neck to see it when either Sally or Tanya would say something like, "Ohmigod!" or "That's really fucked up!" So, I think I only saw the really weird parts. Granted, I think the whole thing was pretty weird. I couldn't figure out what the point of it was or what the subject was or the plot, if there even was a plot. It was more like a movie that was a collage of clips of older movies. There was no sense of linear time. Nothing in it made any sense at all. I think I even saw a scene with a large phallic symbol and something representing balls at the bottom of it.

While those movies were running, D managed to finish off his pitcher of beer. Then, the first band, The Nasty Abbots, came up and started to play. I have to confess, I didn't like them too much. Not that I'm a music snob or anything, it's just that not everyone can like every kind of music. I did try to watch them, although it was kind of hard because I was sitting with my back to them and had to twist my body and my neck around even to see them. By the time the second band, Fits and Starts, came on I had a full-fledged headache from being in that twisted position. There were parts of songs that Fits and Starts did that I liked and parts that I didn't. I think the singer was trying to go for the whole "Iggy Pop" thing and I respect that, but damn, he was just screaming so loud and it sounded like he had the mic IN his mouth. He was screaming so hard that the veins on his neck were standing out. Maybe it's just me, but isn't there a fine line between good screaming vocals and bad screaming vocals? I was expecting him to rip off his shirt at any second and start cutting his chest with shards of glass from abandoned beer bottles. The bassist was good. He had a Rickenbaker bass, which I liked and it had a good sound. I couldn't see the guitarist very well from where I was sitting, but he was pretty active. I saw him several times fall to the floor, ala Jimi Hendrix, and play his guitar like he was having an orgasm. The singer was all over the place. He walked all around the bar, stood on chairs and tables. He even took his mic stand with him instead of disconnecting his mic from it. I think he left it on one of the tables in the middle of the bar during one of their songs. My final estimation of Fits and Starts: practice a lot more, get tighter, bring down the vocals-a lot, get a good sound guy-the sound guy is your friend.

By the time the second band had begun to play, D's father had shown up. He had called him earlier. He was hanging out at a biker bar called Longbranch.(When his dad first sat down, D chided him good-naturedly and said laughing, "Were the dancers unrolling their titties for you?" accompanied by his action of mimicing the unrolling of a breast. His dad just rolled his eyes. I, however, was so embarrassed and laughing so hard that I had to turn my head and put my hands over my face. I laughed so hard that I caused myself a hot flash. Then, everyone started laughing at me, which made me laugh even harder.) He sat down at our table just as D was bringing a second pitcher of beer from the bar. (He drank that whole pitcher as well, minus one glass, which his father drank.) Then, the two of them began bashing the band. While I can understand poking a little fun, theirs went a bit too far. At one point, D yelled out to the singer, "Take off your clothes!" At which point Tanya shot a look at him that was just deadly. I knew right then that she was really pissed off. So, I leaned toward D and said, "You're hurting Tanya's feelings." Surprised, he said,"Oh, I'm sorry." Afterwards, he still occasionally made fun of the band, not so harshly, but his father continued on a tirade even after the band had finished playing. He was pretty drunk, but I thought that was a bit much.

Another thing that embarrassed me while the second band was playing was that the lady who had caught me at the door when we were first coming in and had complimented me on my breasts kept staring at me from her table, from where she had a direct line of view of me. She would get D's attention, he would get my attention by saying something like, "I think she wants to take you home with her." (D's dad said right after that, "I think she wants to take you home for her AND her husband. *sigh* That's kind of scary.) Then, she would do something like yell across the room about how impressed she was with my breasts. She did this practically all night. Jeez, I know I have big breasts. I carry them around with me all the time. I like compliments when they're given in a non-insulting way, but all I could think of when my face wasn't crimson and hiding behind my hands was, "Gimme a break, already." I think she got a kick out of embarrassing me. I think everyone else at the table got a kick out of me being embarrassed as well. Well, at least everyone got a good laugh, including me.

We got kicked out of the bar because they were closing. Tanya wanted to go to Midtown and it seemed like D wanted to go as well. I didn't really feel like going to Midtown and told him so. He looked around at Sally, Tanya and his father and said, "Well, I guess I'm not going to Midtown." Sally said she was hungry and had mentioned going to IHOP. When we walked out to the sidewalk from the bar, I yelled at her (because she was kind of a long way off already), "Are you going to IHOP?" She yelled back, "Yeah, are y'all going to go?" I asked D if he was hungry, to which he replied, "I'm starving." So, off we went to get food.

....to be continued.