so yeah, it’s thursday already. wow. where in the holy hell did my week frolick off to? oh right, had a super-long assed weekend. a ‘takes days to process & recover from’ weekend. a ‘hot DAMN that was awesome’ weekend.
right.
and it ate my week, clearly. because apparently it’s already thursday. (although there was a brief bout of panic yesterday where i thought *yesterday* was thursday)
so anyway, after job #2 yesterday i met clara, dana & brandon at the middle east for drinks � something i haven’t done in quite a while, actually. it didn’t feel like i was *really* there, though. i mean, i love these kids and haven’t seen them in a while and dig hangin’ out with them and all that, and there used to be a time where i’d head out for post-work drinks every night without givin’ it a second thought. reflex or instinct or somethin’, ya know.
and i get there, and i see dana and brandon first and pause a minute to take them in, because they look different from the last time i’ve seen them. brandon got a haircut and dana’s hair has gotten longer. they’re familiar strangers now � and it hasn’t even been that long…but i shook it off, real quicklike because these are my homies, ya heard. we settled into a comfortable booth in the east and i was a bit bummed out that the really cool monster paintings that decorated it from the last time i was there were gone. they were hot shit, ya know. oh well, not like i could afford or do anything with paintings anyhow.
clara finally showed up and there was the catchin’ up and shootin’ the shit and such that goes down when you’re straight chillin’, and i still kinda felt like i was lookin’ in at myself and my friends from somewhere else. i must be trippin’, f’real. so i ordered a jack and coke and just hunkered down and tried to shut my freaking mind off for a while. i mean, damn…
and it was chill. although it does suck when all your friends are coupling off & shit and you’re just sitting there with your dopey ass 100% completely single self tryin’ not to stare at your own fingernails too hard so that it at least appears like you’re listening to them go on and on about their girl or their boy or christ knows what. and also suppressing the urge to bludgeon everyone in a 5 mile radius with their own motherfucking arms when they complain about how hard their relationships are � and by hard i mean ‘oh i wish he would call, i hate waiting for his call, i haven’t talked to him in at least a whole hour!’ (said without any sarcasm whatsoever…) well la dee fucking da, that must be so fucking rough for you. oh woe is me like whoa.
not that i’m bitter or anything…
of course being the only 100% single person in the group last night i get questioned about my love life � or complete lack thereof. niiiiiiiiice. now *that’s* my idea of a fucking stellar evening. no, there are no boys. no, nobody’s interested in me. no, i haven’t met anyone new. no, *he* doesn’t like me. no, i don’t have any prospects. is that what you fucking want to hear? cuz that’s what i’ll fucking tell you. christ. people start hittin’ it on a regular basis with someone they dig and all of a sudden they think the entire fucking world should couple off � as if it’s that fucking easy.
and man, that’s bringin’ me down somethin’ nasty cuz i don’t even like to think about this shit. i go about my business and that’s that. i don’t spend forever analyzing this shit because i gots more important shit to deal with. word.
of course, maybe i just need to cool my jets and mellow a bit more. waitress, be a doll and bring me another jack and coke. thanks. yeah…that’s right. that’s what i need.
the evening rounded off with a velvet underground tribute show at the lizard lounge with brandon, dana, krista’s boything robin (for a while), and dana’s boything who met us as we were leaving the middle east. it was rather chill and groovin’, one cat up on the “stage” had this shiny, metallic red, vinyl jacket to die for. i’d so roll in that and i don’t even like red. if it were any shade of blue i would’ve jocked that fool. or thought about it. thought real long and hard so that maybe when he left he’d be checkin’ over his corner cuz he could just feel my vibes coveting his swanktastic jacket…and he’d pull it a little closer around himself and pick up his step. that’d be cool, actually. i switched to guinness and just listened to the music and grooved. of course i did have to deal with brandon’s bitchery/moral opposition to me smoking, but in the end i got a couple of cigarettes out of that kid and got him to shut his trap. so it was cool.
yeah it’s bad, yeah i shouldn’t do it, yeah it’s habit-forming, yeah…so what’s you’re motherfucking point?
i’m out…
