(no title)
I love the smell of spray paint. It harkens back to a younger era of me in the country, bein' bad. I can always tell when someone's done a really fresh tag or when they've marked up the sidewalks somewhere for maintanence-- it throws me back to Colonial Beach before they paved the roads. A smell that I know equally well is that of ganj, a scent that harkens back to, oh, I dunno, about twelve hours ago.
I got all Taint-y with Alex on Sunday, and she had to twist my arm to get me there. I was zonked the fuck out from working all week, and had it not been for her insistance, I wouldn'ta made it. We were gonna go for a little drinky-drink, a little dancey-dance, and then just be-out. Two Sparks later, I had found my energy.
If you ask Alex, she'll tell you it wasn't the two Sparks, but the two boys, who got me moving.
Oh yeah, Alex and I got taken home from Taint. The boys, Joe and Dave, were both service industry folks. Joe's a little older, maybe early thirties, balding but cute, with a personality that was too blunt to be called catty and to catty to be called blunt. Facial hair and gauged earrings, light skin and darker features, he just wasn't quite my type. He checkeed a few boxes on the list, but really, his lack of boyish charm, and my Kathy Oversaturation, somehow warded off whatever spell he wanted to cast on me.
Dave, on the other hand, was much closer to my age. He was also much closer to Alex's height-- and Alex isn't a spectacularly tall girl, by any stretch. Not quite a stepladder makeout, but closer to 5'8 than to 5'10. Great arms, dark hair, and a fun smile. Funny as it is, Dave barbacks at Saint Ex, and remembered my drink that I had ordered all of once. Dave was being the wingman for Joe, and asked the normal litney of questions. I didn't give the answer Joe probably wanted. Thats okay, 'cause I'm fairly sure I gave the answer Dave wanted.
Puppy kicking and cruisey gym humor later, we had both made each other laugh. We moved from family guy to adult swim, and then he fessed up to liking Teen Titans. I told him that I dug on the Trigon storyline, and he misheard Trigun. We had both succesfully outed ourselves as nerds.
He invited us over, and on our way out (to his car), he told me that someone had to take shot gun.
"Shotty," says me. Like duh.
Alex, Yama (a third in their circle), Joe, Dave, and I smoked a ton of pot and watched a coach bag full of TV. We laughed our asses off, and enjoyed more Kathy Griffin on Bravo. "...Not Nicole Kidman" is a scream, and comes recommended. I didn't end up with either boy's number, but I liked my sit-next-to-session with Dave on the couch. I feel like following up or something, but we'll see. Its the start of the work week.
oh, speaking of work, I went out on Monday and saw The Aristocrats with a bunch of heads from work. Since we work at the Improv, we got invited to the sneak preview session. Enjoyed it fully, but the best part was with the old batty bitches midrow couldn't take the vulgarity anymore and dipped. That alone was as funny as the movie.
I was cranky all day Monday, but made it through. Feruza Balk and Return to Oz helped. Six Feet Under didn't. The second anniversery of Emily's death came and went, and I didn't totally break down. I was just salty at strangers. I also went a-googling Emily's name, and found out that the truck driver who hit her totally got four years in jail. Mary Washington also established a scholarship in her name.... the funny thing? She wouldn't have qualified.
She'd drink to the irony of all that.
I got all Taint-y with Alex on Sunday, and she had to twist my arm to get me there. I was zonked the fuck out from working all week, and had it not been for her insistance, I wouldn'ta made it. We were gonna go for a little drinky-drink, a little dancey-dance, and then just be-out. Two Sparks later, I had found my energy.
If you ask Alex, she'll tell you it wasn't the two Sparks, but the two boys, who got me moving.
Oh yeah, Alex and I got taken home from Taint. The boys, Joe and Dave, were both service industry folks. Joe's a little older, maybe early thirties, balding but cute, with a personality that was too blunt to be called catty and to catty to be called blunt. Facial hair and gauged earrings, light skin and darker features, he just wasn't quite my type. He checkeed a few boxes on the list, but really, his lack of boyish charm, and my Kathy Oversaturation, somehow warded off whatever spell he wanted to cast on me.
Dave, on the other hand, was much closer to my age. He was also much closer to Alex's height-- and Alex isn't a spectacularly tall girl, by any stretch. Not quite a stepladder makeout, but closer to 5'8 than to 5'10. Great arms, dark hair, and a fun smile. Funny as it is, Dave barbacks at Saint Ex, and remembered my drink that I had ordered all of once. Dave was being the wingman for Joe, and asked the normal litney of questions. I didn't give the answer Joe probably wanted. Thats okay, 'cause I'm fairly sure I gave the answer Dave wanted.
Puppy kicking and cruisey gym humor later, we had both made each other laugh. We moved from family guy to adult swim, and then he fessed up to liking Teen Titans. I told him that I dug on the Trigon storyline, and he misheard Trigun. We had both succesfully outed ourselves as nerds.
He invited us over, and on our way out (to his car), he told me that someone had to take shot gun.
"Shotty," says me. Like duh.
Alex, Yama (a third in their circle), Joe, Dave, and I smoked a ton of pot and watched a coach bag full of TV. We laughed our asses off, and enjoyed more Kathy Griffin on Bravo. "...Not Nicole Kidman" is a scream, and comes recommended. I didn't end up with either boy's number, but I liked my sit-next-to-session with Dave on the couch. I feel like following up or something, but we'll see. Its the start of the work week.
oh, speaking of work, I went out on Monday and saw The Aristocrats with a bunch of heads from work. Since we work at the Improv, we got invited to the sneak preview session. Enjoyed it fully, but the best part was with the old batty bitches midrow couldn't take the vulgarity anymore and dipped. That alone was as funny as the movie.
I was cranky all day Monday, but made it through. Feruza Balk and Return to Oz helped. Six Feet Under didn't. The second anniversery of Emily's death came and went, and I didn't totally break down. I was just salty at strangers. I also went a-googling Emily's name, and found out that the truck driver who hit her totally got four years in jail. Mary Washington also established a scholarship in her name.... the funny thing? She wouldn't have qualified.
She'd drink to the irony of all that.