Today I moved out of the Dirty House for good. Mara and Krista left at around 3:45am to get Mara to the airport, and I decided against tagging along. It would have been silly for Ristika to come all the way back to my house from balitmore to drop me off and then diddy bop back up past balitmore again on her way home to Jersey... it would have been silly just so I could say goodbye at the same time.

I'm a mushy boy insofar as that I cried when my ladies left. Not bawling or anything, but definatly streams down the cheeks. How big of a geek am I? I couldn't help it, I had such an amazing time this week.

Krista and I came down to the Dirty House, then proceeded down to my folks for a financial pick-me-up as well as to retrieve my car. Of course my car didn't bother to start when we got there (dead battery), so we just hopped in the Krista Mobile and returned back up the Fairfax. I reckon its a good thing we took her car anyway, 'cause its so much easier to parallel park than my Big. Red. Boat.

On our first night out in the city, Krista and I went to Cosi (you'll see that as a developing pattern) for dinner and to celebrate the arrival of my bag of Holiday Greens. We ran into my friend Nuvia, and she was on the prowl for Santa's Good Stuff, too, so we drove around until she saw a dealer on the corner that she knew. Krista and she bonded over the pains of ugly puerto ricans, and we all rolled a festive blunt and walked through Dupont smoking. I couldn't have felt more Gang-Star.

On Christmas Eve Eve I called my friend Markie and we went to his place to hang out. He lives up by the convention center, on 10th and M, and so we ended up taking our Chariot (the G2 Bus) into Dupont after we pregamed with an entire bottle of our friend Jim Bean. Lawdy. Needless to say, the bus ride was particularly drunktastic, as was running into Mark's ex Brandon, who I had met previously. I had actually met Brandon on my own and realized his relationship to Markie via the powers of the Triumvarate. Poor ol' Brandon didn't realize that we have some sort of freak ability to triangulate people on the greater eastern seaboard... he couldn't have known that his exboyfriend's best friend is a SuperTwin.

Anyway, we decide that we're going to go to Cobalt after we find out that Apex is closed for the night (who closes on Tuesday? Ew), and we proceed to get in the middle of the herd. A drunk Maneuver was going to have to be performed to get Ristika, myself, and Markie into the venue... but at the last minute the maneuver had to be aborted as one of us got caught. Defeated, we headed for Cosi....

As luck would have it, Mark noticed a door slightly ajar. Printed on a small sheet of paper taped to the door is "Employee Entrance Only", and we realize its to Cobalt. Without much hesitation or delibaration, we're sneaking in the door and shimmying up the fire escape. As we arrive at the final door into our RetroNight, Mark tells us the game plan: sprint to the center of the club as fast as you can. Stay in the crowd. We may as well have synchronized our watches.

Oh yes, we danced to Step By Step and "The Last Song." No need to even question whether we got in or not! Speaking of synchronizing, I got to synchronize my hips with a cute boy's on the dancefloor... I'll never know his name, but doesn't that just make it better? I was on my way to the bar with Krista and Markie, and the boy pulls me over to him, allowing my cabal to venture further forward. About 20 feet ahead now, Markie looks back and stops Krista... "We've lost one."

It didn't last long. The sheer combined force of the three of us that night was probably too much for most mortal men to stand, 'cause Markie and I shortly discarded him back into the pile of boys.

On our way out, however, Krista broke the heel on her leather boots, and proceeded to throw 'em into the Trash and walk 10 blocks back to Mark's in her bare feet. Atta-Girl! I was soooo proud of my gurl! Anyone FRC enuff to throw their Leather Boots out and highstep their ass golden style through dupont gets props. We earned our Denny's Breakfast at 5am.

The next day Krista and I are preparing to get my Supertwin, Mara, from the airport when we notice that the car is overheating. We had to make the executive decesion to have her come in via the train to Union Station, as we returned home to take my cousin Tabby (tabitha called Tuhbabitha much to her chagrin) vehicle into the city.

Tuhbabitha and Charese came down for new years, and I could talk about it at length, but there is no need to. Tabby was ragging and bleeding through and bein' ultra-snotty. Charese is just so young. Bleh. I can't fuss too much, cause Tabby let us take her car into the city to wait for Mara, who, the poor thing, had a delayed flight as well as less than perfect flight companions.

I want so badly to go into stories or yarns and talk about Mara, but I don't really know how-- she's my supertwin, so knowing my reaction means you prolly know her reaction. Something you Replace that begins with an "H"? What would you put down? In the last game of scattergories we played, we both had "Helium Tank." Thats the best way I can put it. I love her with all my heart.

So, that said, we shopped around at Union Station for a while for her, but then grew tired of the wait and bopped over to Le Cosi to grab a sandwhich. I grabbed one for Miss Mara, too... I had to. I'm a fatty... I know the only thing that fixes these sorts of delays is food, so I had to get her one, I just had to. But I was left with a condumdrum: what the hell type of sandwhich does mara prefer? The only thing worse thing worse than me not bringing a sandwhich would be me bringing a yucky sandwhich. I had to get it right.

Turkey. Its gotta be turkey. You can't go wrong with turkey and cheddar. Who doesn't like turkey and cheddar? To not like it would simply be UnAmerican.

I think she liked it =)

Anyway, New Years was spent in Silver Spring at one of my friend Jackie's friends house... I didn't really know 'em at all, but by the end of the night, we were the definition of "the life of the party." They practically took notes and fought over who got to tell the story of our family. Huge house, Jewish Dentist Dad. Nuff Said.

So, Crababitha bitched at the party. She bitched in teh city. If bitches were hammers, she'd have had a folk hit. She and Charese disappeared from whence they came the day after they came down.. really, it was less than a 24 hour visit.

Clearly I'm upset. Clearly.

So broken up that we actually made it out *again*, and we went to two different college night events, one at Platinum, the other at Apex (Gaypex). At Platinum I saw a cute boy talking to Mara, and apparently the conversation started as such:

Dude: Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?
Mara: No, I don't really dance like this! I'm just having fun!
Dude: Thats not what I wanted to ask you.

It turns out he was asking about me =) The only fags in the place found the other one. They wouldn't come up and dance, though, they said it was better to admire from afar. "admire"
Whatever.

I love dancing with my cousins. It makes me so happy. They're goofball chowderheads and I love it. Love Love Love it. I am so blessed that I get to share blood with my best friends... you can't choose family, but I wouldn't choose anyone else.

Anyway, the next few days were spent bonding... we made it to the hirshorn (the hub of all things is awesome), to the cosi, and around scott circle and dupot circle countless times. We ate at the GhettoStarChineseWok... In fact, we ate just about everywhere. Cause we ate a lot. A lot a lot. Mara made alfredo. Brownies. Krista made Jello. We made 10 mile long trips for ice cream. In fact, though we failed at our attempts to get ice cream a couple of times, we really did make like 3 efforts for 3 different varieties. Gosh we ate.


But, eventually it had to be done....and my girls left today.

I don't even wanna talk about it, 'cause then I'll start missin' them again. I also don't want to talk anymore about the food we ate, 'cause then I'll be haungry again.

Mm...haungry...

Oh! About the move: I left sooo much shit behind at the Dirty House... my poor fuckin slumlords. If they didn't suck so badly, I sure would be upset about leaving them with all that junk 😉

So, thats my potential new pad. After discovering that I didn't get the preapproval for the mortgage, I spent the day trying to find 2 bedrooms in A) the area I wanted, and B) in the price range I wanted. I think I've found a good one.

I'm gonna go tour the facility tomorrow and then report in to the Potential Roomie, Tiffany. Half of me just wants to look at the housing manager and yell "GIMMIE!" but I realize that won't work too well.

It took me about 10 hours of constant searching to find that damn place, and I can say that my mood lifted infinitly when I findly found it. The feeling of "trapped" sucks big wookie.

Oh! Oh! On the brighter news front, I have my first business dinner with my new client, Evolvian tomorrow. We're meeting at Artie's in Fairfax City. How lame is it that this week I am so broke I'm gonna have to ask my parents for business dinner money?

LAAAAAME.

My car broke down again today. I was getting gas, and it simply wouldn't start again. I should have seen this coming.

Grr...

My father blamed a dead battery on me for some reason. I did not kill this battery, infact, we had to jump my car this morning, and it ran fine. We turned it off and it started again with no problem.

Anyway, after he got douchish with me I told him to fuck off.

He exploded.

If he wants to be a shithead, I can be shitty right back, no questions asked. Harumph.


So, I missed my meeting today. Great.

Prince Ali, yes it is he...

The city called to me on Wednesday, and I coudln't not heed the call. I had to go. And so it was.

I just got back from a really good time in the city; terribly wholesome, horribly healthy. I'm so glad for it. Major recharge time. I went up on Wednesday night, and stayed with Jackie. We drank with her friend Bagels, who I also worked with at Peace Actionjob. Jackie knew him from Grenell College, which is in Iowa, but his family was from the District, too.

I crashed at Jackie's, she kicked my ass at pool a good couple of times, and we slept. We woke up the next day, she took me with her into Cosi to hang out, and so we did. After work that day we went over to our friend Sasha's friend Shana, and we drank at the Statemen. Wooo Statesmen... sooo gorgeous. Its gotta be one of the nicest buildings I know anyone in...

The next morning, in the yucky snow, I drove out to Chantilly from GW, where Sasha goes to school. I didn't sleep much the night before (okay at all), but when the dawn came, I was in the car driving out to the middle of nowhere. I left right around 6am, and I didn't arrive until 7:40. It should have taken less than a half an hour.

No grumbles, as the day was spent with Jackie in the city after watching "Finding Nemo" with Shana. YAY Finding Nemo. YAY for getting real shit done in the city. After Friday was all but over, I went over to visit Michelle. Wonderful time. Michelle lives in "The Hen House," seein' as how JC and Suzanne have moved in with her now. Michelle is Mama Hen, and since Jace and Suze are both old roomies, the whole thing feels like my family.

Anyway, Saturday-- I proceeded to go out with Michelle and her friends. I was so incredibly high the whole time.... Sheesh. Clearly, Saturday became Sunday, and I had a relaxing day filled with Family Breakfasts and group deserts. My car tire had flat, and the lugnuts were so tight that when I stood on the piece that you turn to loosen the lugnut, the car tipped off the jack.

All sorts of bam-crash-bullshit. So, dad came to my rescue this morning, thank goodness. Everything was put where it should be.

Go watch the Surreal Life, btw.


I still have a bunch to do tomorrow that involved just phone calls, but errands are about done. Sometime this week my mom and I are gonna go take care of the the apartment in DC, and I'm gonna call the UN and decline. I can't commit to the time they want from me, and I can't work for free, as it looks now.

I'n gonna talk to the guy in charge about it first, to say everything I have, and see what happens. We'll see.

Also, Potential Boyfriend Critera #4305, in steps:
Step One- Listen to "In Public" by Kelis.
Step Two- Find Me.

Just a little inspiration suggestion to any boy smart enough to get it.

Grumble, Grumble.

I spent the morning lying in bed until about 2. I also stayed up reading until about 5, so I feel absolutely fan-fucking-tastic about my decision. Normally when I'm in low spirits, I like to stay in bed alllllllll day long, occasionally getting up for sorbet or dulce de leche.

Today, I was in high spirits everytime I woke up, yet I still curled my toes around the slightly indian-themed comforter and tucked myself back in for a nap. Every single time. And it happened like 4 times.

But, anyway, I got up at 2 and spent the afternoon helping my dad out at his shop, runnning cars back and forth from fredericksburg for 'em. No big deal at all, really.

Nothing, in fact, to grumble at. Ohhh, but there's more. I got an academic warning my freshman year that carried over to the first semester of my sophmore year. When you are a freshman and get a warning, it is also a probation, simply 'cause of how its set up. Well, now it looks like I've royalled screwed myself, because I got a warning this semester. That combo warning-probation has managed to land me my first Academic Suspension. Argh!

There seems to be an override I can request. But, that means I really, really have to get on the ball! I guess things could be worse, cause they're not really so bad.

I did find the override info, and I called ATT today and found out where the hell the phone they were supposed to be sending me was. Its in transit. In (you may laugh now) Chantilly. I'm gonna just let them deliver it to the Dirty House, and I'll go back and get it later. I think thats the best thing for me, cause I truly don't feel like dealing with the drive to Chantilly again, or anything involved in that area. It seems I'm going to be making a cameo at Mason to hand in my override... now I just have to figure out what the fuck I do to turn it in. If there is anything to turn in at all.... Yes Virginia, I can be a fuck up.

I think its gonna have to be hard 'cause I need to *want* it after I've gotten it, ya know? But, in an effort to clear my head, I've been taking online quizzes.

Quick! Learn!

Evil Quiz: You're totally evil. When you wake up in the morning and look in the mirror you say, 'I'm gonna be evil today!' You know you're evil and you love it.


What Type of Lunatic are You?



Which Dysfunctional Care Bear Are You?


Your soul is bound to the Burning Rose: The Rapture.

"I go where my heart beckons me, and I go
with my head high. But sometimes, I get a need until I bleed so my heart swims above my head.

The Burning Rose is associated with passion, intensity, and desire. It is governed by the god Eros and its sign is The Flame, or Physical Love.

As a Burning Rose, you can get lost in the moment if you let yourself. You are a very physical person, be it in relationships, work, or play. You may be driven by your hormones sometimes, but you know it's because you have to follow your instinct.

What Rose Is Your Soul Bound To?



Lots of quizzes! I needed a little self involved time, and I feel much better! Oh, for the record, I also would have rolled a "Gay Bear" and a "Tramp Bear" on the one quiz, should I have changed just one answer in the last question. Same with the first question. There were two answers I *really* liked in both, and changing them at all gave me 4 distinctly different bears.

Though, really, I suppose Tramp Bear and Gay Bear go hand in hand. As do Stoner Bear and Raver Bear. Whatever.

Lil, the original of Coyote Ugly, sent this my way (okay, blatently ripped from her blog):

TARA'S QUESTIONS TO ASK TO AVOID DATING A DOUCHBAG
1. Do you still live with mother?
Having to wipe my ass everyday is a part of life. Having to wipe his ass too is only doubling your chances of getting your hands in SHITT!!
2. What kind of car do you drive?
He must drive a nicer car than yours or one equal to it. If not that just means his piece of crap car will always be broken down and guess who becomes the taxi
3. Do you have a checkbook and at least one credit card?
If he doesn't that just means he has no credit and eventually he will want you to cosign in order to replace his PIECE OF SHIT CAR!
4. Do you do drugs, or have the need for drugs?
Yes antidepressants fall under this category. Loser
5. What type of drunk are you?
A grown man taking a piss on the floor of the living room is not exactly material you want to bring home to mom and dad.
6. How long does it take you to get ready?
Taking longer than you to get ready means he is one of those pompous asses that will take the rear view mirror from you while you are putting on your makeup to check his hair
7. Have you ever been in jail and for every 10 people in your family is there more than one of them in jail?
If the answer is no, follow by asking if you were dating him and he went to jail would he call you to bail him out?
8. At what temperture do you wash your underwear? You might find this question odd, but if he can't answer it you'll find yourself enjoying doing his laundry as well as yours.
9. What do you do for a living?
Although the initial thought is materialistic, this question is actually showing you if you will be filling out resumes for a second job because you got stuck paying his bills too.
10. And last but not least the ever so important sex question.
How often do you NEED sex?
Don't get me wrong sex is great..to want it everyday is onething.. to NEED it is a flashing red sign that says CHEATER!

My cousin Mara has this anteater, and its really very adorable. The anteater has some great story attached to it, and an equally great name. I don't really remember the story or the name, because it was probably a really cute boyfriend-y story, and judgeing from my last couple of entries, I have reason to block out cutesy boyfriendy stuff 😉

Nono, it's Mr. Something-er-other, but really, he's cute.

I, too, keep an anteater next to my computer at all times. He's a teenie-beanie baby from McDonald's.... it's the mini-me of hers. Who keeps an anteater at the computer? Honestly.

Well, in my car there is a purple otter named Pip that lives in the sunglass holder. He has a brother, Pop, who resides in sunny California with one of my dearest friends, Becky. He's a great otter, and very few people know he even exists, since he spends so much time in the shades holder.

Becky was my first roomie ever, and I love her dearly. One late, late night we watched simultaneously the sun come up and "The Bear in the Big Blue House."

So, anywho, I found out today my father has a road buddy. We were taking some cars up to the auto auction, and I happened to notice that he had some weird figurine wedged in between the windshield and the dash board. Otter!

They talk. Kinda crazy, both that they talk, and that he too has an otter... I talk less to my otter than my father prolly does to his seein' as how a friend had to reprimand me once for talking to Sketch while driving. I was chatting with him on the phone, and of course he had to hear my talking Sketch Doll (from the great movie Kilo and Sketch) start ta1lking in the background. Those things are so accurate (hahaha), and they respond to so many things you say (or what they think you said). I was busted, but thassokay (it prolly would have responded to that).

Oh! My cousins Krista and Aric had a conversation recently that seems fairly fitting, and fucking kills me:

Aric: What does my m2 get at a 1/4 mile?
*begins to flip through book*
Krista (from across the room, barely looking up): 15.6
Aric: Damn! 15.6! You're Right!
Krista: No way! I pulled that out of my ass!

One Last Sketch Tangent: My Sketch Doll wears a burgendy bandana now, to differentiate himself from Jeremy's. That was a neccesity once Kate started SketchSitting my Sketch and Jeremy's Sketch. Headwear makes it happen!

Hahahaha, Emily would be sooo proud of me! I have managed to watch nothing except trash TV for like a week now!

The summer before last, she spent about 70% of her evenings at my house. Every night she would have a different chick-friend that her mother thought she was staying with, when in reality she was taking up the other half of my queen-size mattress. Wooo-wee, that girl. She was over so much that we called her our "other" roomate. We didn't give her a number, cause that wouldn't be fair-- really, she was number one.

But, anyway, we would cuddle for hours, watching trash reality television and getting minimal sleep. It would go Blind Date, Change of Heart, Elimidate, and then Fifth Wheel. We'd get to watch an episode of Married with Children, and then Street Smarts. We'd eat one of my crazy rice concotions, and then we'd go to bed.

Or drink for no good reason except that we enjoyed our time drunk, too.

She'd make snorty noises at me to play with her hair... it in truth was one of her favorite things in the whole world, to have her hair played with. I used to fall asleep running my fingers through my mom's hair when I was really little; I could fall asleep playing with Emily's hair, but it rarely happened that I was the first one out. I hope she knew that it was one of my favorite things in the world, too.

Haha, that girl. She'd have to yell to get me up before she left in the morning, because she would be leaving first and she knew I had a helluva time getting up. I'd pretend to get up and then fall back asleep for 15 minutes more that I really didn't have.

And we'd wash-rinse-repeat, with the occasional IHOP Salad night in between. Oh, the IHOP Salad... We'd split a salad between the two of us, sometimes stoned, and then go home and have a trash-tv night.

I don't have a 40 to tip, but i'll flip the remote to your memory, Em.

I Said Gah-Dayum, Gah-Dayum.

Fuckin adventures out the wazoo in the past two days. For Christmas, my brother Trey gave me Capitals tickets. I couldn't have been more thrilled, the only time I make it to a Caps game is when he throws tickets my way.

And, of course he has seasons tickets, and the seats were amazing. That said, I got to the stadium, and suddenly I'm a star. I'm sitting in Trey's section getting looks, and he hasn't quite arrived yet. I'm there maybe 10 minutes and he shows, headed to his buddy's section.

He calls me over, and we shoot the shit for a bit. I have to fess up to circling the wrong date on the calander, so I was like a half an hour late, and dateless, but I think it was better that way. Why you ask? Cause Trey and I got to do some major drinking and some major bonding.

Everywhere I went, I got treated like VIP, and whenever Trey would say "that's my little brother" people would come up to shake my hand, or tell me how wonderful my big bro is.

Weeeeeird. So, Caps won, and Trey kept grabbing me Tanqs and Tonics-- I love that my brother knows exactly what I like to drink.

But, either way, we had a really nice time just bullshitting at Nick and Stefs, and then made our way down to Rosa Mexicano. Of course they had to be booked, so we diddybopped right on down to Zola's.

Its Resturant Week in the city, so it was all sorts of packed, but we got this swank-ass booth in the back. I had this awesome pepperoni fondue, a veal dish, and a chocolate fondue dessert... oh my god was it fuckin' lucious. It was all very hoity-toity, and I of course ate the atmosphere up with a spoon.

Hell, I woulda sopped it up with a biscuit.

I parted ways with my brother and then made my way to Cosi. I hung out for a bit, smoked some with the Nuvia, and met the members of Stomp!

They were eating in Lauren's section, and then we went out together. We headed down to Ben N' Mo's where we partook in an apple hookah and watched the MC Battles. There was this one little white girl who was off the chain... and she was punkin' the big dudes left and right.

You know I gotta cheer for my underdogs.

Out with me was Lauren, Jess, Jarrett, and the guys from Stomp... and after we parted ways with the Stomp-Heads, we went back to the house on Holmeade and smoked. Lauren and I proceeded to make our infamous Grands Biscuit (which we make EVERY time we're stoned in that damn house) and egg sandwhich. Yessah, it was good.

Jarret drove me back to his place and I had a nice sleep. I also have come to the realization that Jarret and I just aren't sexually compatible. He's a great, amazing guy, but he just doesn't do it for me.

I can sleep next to him without getting hard. Its done.

I'm concerned that we may lose our friendship, and I'd hate to see that happen. I love spending time with him, and hanging out with him. As a matter of fact, Jarret's done a great job of always being there when I needed him, and he makes me feel good. All that said, he still doesn't do it for me sexually. I won't call him a bad kisser, thats not nice, but he sincerly doesn't work me out. I wish he did. It would make it easier.

Either way, its the next day, and I'm giving Nuvia a hand in upper Northwest. Picture it: Martin Luther King Day. Empty, but car lined street. Me driving. Car *reversing* out of a parallel parking spot. Crunch.

I manage to tag the back of his car and seriously fuck up the front of mine. The muthafucker was drunk and stoned, and didn't speak english-- but get this, Nuvia knew him. He fucking sells heroin apparently, and she knew a boy that owed him 15Gs. She told me not to give him my real info, and since she was translating, I was sure not to.

Attafuckingirl.

We walk a few blocks up and catch a bus down to the Fort Totem metro stop, from which we caught the red line down to Dupont South. Nuvia made it home safe and sound, and Jarrett came and kept me company all day.

Thats partly one of the things I'm worried about with the Jarret, for the record. He's a good buddy, and I don't wanna hurt him. I know that he once had trouble dating another boy because that boy just wasn't me, and as ego-inflating as that is... I wouldn't wish that shit on anyone. I know what it feels like. Men suck.

Um, yeah, bitter faggot shit aside, I called dad, and he comes up to tow my lovely car away. He gets it all set up good and tight, and I tap the gas just a tiny bit to align it all properly, and we're all good to go... when my car goes over the edge of the dolly, falling and wedging itself now *on* the dolly. Yah, thats a fucked up chasis. Somehow, Dad and I managed to fix it with the help of two extra jacks and some 2x4s.

Let me just also repeat that I have somehow fucked a heroin dealer and we are in the sketchiest neighborhood around. I'm scared shitless by my city for the first time ever, and I'm just glad that we're ready to go.

Oh, thats when the tire on the dolly pops. My father's a bright guy, he knows when I'm around to expect the unexpected, and he just so happened to have a spare dolly tire.

Which pops, too. So, my dad's now towing my car through Georgia Avenue on a rim, just praying that a gas station appears. The dolly's shaking like crazy, and I'm nearly in tears for my poor car. We've travelled maybe 2 blocks with a tire, and now maybe 7 more on the rim.

When things are starting to get a little bleak, and the dolly's begun ratttling crazy-style, we look and see a "Now Entering Maryland" sign. And, then, like the fuckin' burning bush, a BP appears, and lawd-love-ya, it had a service station. AND it had a 13 inch tire to fit the dolly.

Yeah, we made it home alive... but now that I've decided (oh, you may not know this) to stay home and not move to DC until prolly August, I don't know how the fuck I'm gonna get to and from class... argh. Its a 2 hour commute each way, and I can't exactly take the bus.

Ahh, well, we'll see. I refuse to let this strip away my clarity and good mood. I forged the beginings of a real friendship with my older brother, decided exactly how I do and don't wish to live out the next 7 or so months, and have found a way to actually discuss things with my father when we have differing view points without either one of us feeling attacked-- I don't know what silly braid the universe is trying to weave with these incidences and calamities, but I refuse to let it be anything other than a bright knit.

Huzzah.

Hahahahahahhahahaha

Look at the bitch's raincloud. And Rainbow!

Gayest Stamp EVAR! And I saw the "I Love Lucy" and "Wizard of Oz" stamps, so thats saying something.

Someone must buy me this stamp, available at your local post office!

Or, online.

Alright, I'm now off to discover exactly how I'm going to be transporting myself from here to anywhere.

What Kind Of Superhero Are You? by electronicoffee
Your Username
Your First Name
Your Superhero Last Name	Flarestar
Your Weapon	Dagger of Ice
Your 1st Superpower	Meta Seduction [pheremones]
Your 2nd Superpower	Invisibility [Mental]
Created with quill18's MemeGen 2.0!

My Dad is a wise man. It's snowing, and he went outside to grab the shovel and brought it in. Little events, big events. I don't know that I would have thought to do that immediatly.

I lose my phone or keys at least twice a day.

Each.

I can learn a lot from him.

Things are pretty good over here in the land of Mike.

My parents got back from Daytona really late last night, actually this morning, around 1 am-- they drove straight up from Florida, and it took 'em around 14 hours. They had just gotten off the cruise ship that morning, and drove straight through.

They're so adorable, I love my parents. They're so invigorated, and chipper, and have stories upon stories from their adventure into the islands. They brought me back 4 kinda of rum, which I think is pretty darn exciting, too!

Dark Coconut Rum, Clear Coconut Rum, Mango Rum, and Banana Rum. YUM!

Things are pretty much on the up-and-up.

Republicans, and the Texas they road in on, are Evil.

Osama Surrounded! technically, Krista and I have him surrounded, too. Just depends on what sort of 'distance' you mean by surrounded.

Dubya:"Let's Punk the Media!"

Osama: Coming to you live, the first week in November...

Anywho, I'm gonna be on my way to Mason. It's Homecoming weekend (who knew?!) at school, so there should be lots of shinganigatings for me to enjoy. Puja was drinkin' at 2 when I spoke with her, so we'll see what condition my girls are in when I arrive. I'm gonna be suprising Dan by coming up early, he wasn't expecting me until Sunday, when we were gonna go to a show together.

Hehe, insta-date. I reckon I should bring a change of clothes for Monday, too, since I'm not gonna wanna come all the way home on Sunday. Monday's gonna be a big day, too, speaking of which, cause its blood-test-result-day. I'm gonna be a-okay, but it's so undercover stressful, the waiting and all. I didn't realize I was stressed 'till I noticed the key factor riding as the undercurrent of nonproductivity and detachment. I curbed just about all of those feelings early, but it'll be wonderful to feel "free and clear."

Mark has plans for an event for the two of us called Tequila Grande. Its a night of tequila-soaked escapades involving 7-layer dip, tequila-lime chicken, and margaritas. It seems to me there will be more time for that, since more time will be spent in DC as of today.

"Why, oh why," you may ask, "is Mike returning to the city?"

Because thats where I have become gainfully employeed (it seems).

On Monday night, after studying hard for and then ace-ing two midterms, it seemed I had a night of revel-ry ahead when I was informed of a certain friend's 21st birthday event. She turned twenty-one at midnight, and we were going to make our way to the Friday's in Fair Oaks for birthday love.

When we arrived, I informed the server that I worked at friday's, so that he would perhaps discount some of the appetizers. Total standard procedure. Well, when birthday shots were being ordered, he carded me. I didn't think much of it, figured I wasn't getting the drink, and that was that. He called me out for bein' a minor, and no spectacle was made.

When the shots arrived, there was an extra. I proceeded to take the shot with the group, and all was happy in friend-ville.

I got up in the mornin', rolled to work, and when I arrived, I was taken to the side and sat down. Last night at 1:30, whomever it was that called me out on bein' under 21 called around to all the Friday's in the Northern Virginia area describing me. I'm pretty easy to describe, it can be done in like three adjectives and maybe a noun.

They claimed me, and then were informed that I had drank as a minor and that they had informed corporate. Insta-termination, non-rehirable for 6 months.

I didn't let it dampen my spritis too thoroughly, knowing I had yet another midterm to ace on wednesday. I spent most of Tuesday with Michelle just bein' a fatty and relaxing.

Wednesday I aced the next exam (for Comm 380) and goofed off further.

I went with Ashley today to DC to speak with the GM of Cosi to ask for an application and an interview. All things went well, now I just have to get a schedule and I should be golden. There don't seem to be too many terrible hitches in the plan, so I'm optimistic.

I don't know yet exactly how the commute is going to work, but Mom supported me goin' somewhere else to make more money. Cosi has negative connotations in her mind, slightly, due to the atmosphere that used to be employeed there, but good heavens, that is no longer the case.

That crowd has came and gone, and the new crowd is wonderful. Dedicated, sober, fun folk who are students and working actively towards success. A far different crowd than the aforementioned "atmosphere."

I look forward to working with Lauren again. I look forward to making good money at a place that has the capactiy to treat me well. It changes my routine a bit, but I also put down day-shift hours to work as a barista, which I think would be neat, as well as allow me to continue rising early for a reason.

I think I'd miss the AM now.

I'm really enjoying my life the way it is now, busy yet also laid back. I'm doing the best I've done in school in a loooong time, and I see people who love me unconditionally every day.

As quick as Fridays came into my life, it goes out. I can't help but look towards kismet as perhaps the reason I got called in to work at Cosi on Friday. It set up a decent doorway for re-entry.

I didn't mention it on Monday, since I was preoccupied with preoccupations (*grin*), but other stress-me-out-ers arrived on Saturday when a dorm I was playin' Uno in was busted for marijuana. I was with Dan visiting Chrissy on Saturday night after I finished studying and napping, and the dorm room got clambaked. There we a few of us in there, but Dan and I didn't have anything on us. He got a violation for being involved with a room that contained paraphnalia, but he wasn't in the actual room it was found in. We were hanging out in the suite's living room.

Oh those crazy-ruckousy Uno players.

Anyway, he had his meeting with the housing folk, since he does live on campus, too. He should be fine, so we'll see. Still, I'm worried for him. Not too worried, though. He's never had an offense before.

Work being interrupted looks like it will only inconvience two days worth of actual work time, and even still, I make about three times a night at cosi to what I was makin' on average at Friday's. There's good reasonin' out there for me to not be fretting.

Speaking of fretting, I think its almost time for Dan to meet one or two of the cousins. I like the boy muchly, and he's endeared himself fantastically with my local support network, and I suppose now its time to expose him to another huge aspect of me: my family.

I'm sorry I missed getting down to Florida with Krista to visit Mara and Dana. I've not heard from Krista since she got back, so I'm curious to hear the stories of yonder. It now seems that I'm doin' a good job at missin' out on my trips because of work. This weekend will be spent at Cosi or at home saving money, as was last weekend. This weekend's lock-down will keep me from seeing Jackie in New York, but I've gotta do what I gotta do.

Recent concertation internally comes from my thoughts on Dan's naiivity. He prioritizes partying more than I do now a days, and that worries me. He's no where near how party-oriented I was a couple of years ago (heck a couple of months ago), but I think about. I decided to actually talk to him about it, and he was really receptive, and knew exactly what I was talking about. We talked about a lot of things relating to it, and I'm not really concerned about it anymore. He recognizes that he's doing it, and just that very recognition means that it won't go too far, or last for too much longer.

I feel like I know, cause I've been there.

His friend Emily, the girl that set us up, and I spoke about a couple of those concerns, and i was glad to know I wasn't the only one who noticed it. Calling someone out less than two months into dating them isn't kosher, but I was glad to have someone to discuss it openly with. She could say exactly what I was thinking. It made talking about it with Dan a lot easier. I'm tickled. It seemed like a good time to discuss such things, what with the bust and what not.

That, and him seeing my own need to find a job based off of consequated actions. He saw how hard I worked and how dedicated (an non-flakey) I was, and saw how one stupid action could effect something that was goin' really well. Its weird for people to view me in a really responsible light again. I'm still king sketch of team sketch, but I'm also up every morning going to work, and studying like anyone else at exam time.

I feel like I did when I was seventeen... and thats really got me smiling. I've said for along time that I've never been happier or known myself better than I did when I was seventeen.

A classmate who's intelligence and input to the class I've really, really appreciated and enjoyed all semester asked me how old I was today. I told him 20, and his response was one of a a slight shock-- "Wow. You're reeeeeeally smart."

It made my day.

Things feel tangible again. Word.

Not a bad trip to New York, I gotta say.

Dan and I finished up our classes last Monday and hopped onto the bus and made our way up north to DC to meet up with Lauren and Jess. The original plan was to just crash there for the night and get up way early to catch the $30 round-trip chinatown bus, but as it turned out, there was a bus that left at like 3:30 in the morning. What'd we do? We caught that one.

Why not, you know? As the bus approached the other chinatown, the sounds of mandolins and gongs could be heard playing through the busses sound system. We were the only white folk on the bus, so lest I make some sort of offhandedly offensive comment, let me just say my asian brethen on the bus didn't seem like the blithely happy beats, nor did it seem to make them any happier than they made me.

We got off the bus and meandered through china town, making our way down to Chelsea. Do you have any fuckin' clue how hard it is to find a coffeehouse in china town? Once we all had caffeine coursing through our veins, we treked through the lands of lore: The Village.

At 9:30 in the morning we were in a 24/hour pleasure store purchasing a Fuckuko that the old lady on oxygen recommended. Well, clearly Dan and I didn't purchase it, Lauren and Jess did. They also had Pussy Whip in the flavors of Blackberry Brandy and Strawberry Wine. Both were in fact flammable. Seein' as how I don't have a pussy, I didn't bother purchasing any. I don't think I want to put anything that has the potential to catch on fire near my junx, thanks.

After we rode the subway for a bit, we ran into Jess's only family member in the city: her cousin. She's like 45 or so, and really cool. How random is it that we just ran into her on the metro? I was pretty impressed. Also on that ride there was this black couple, who were singing really, really well. Lauren swapped them a dollar for a photo, and they invited us to a free show at the Cafe Vivaldi.

So, after the stint on the sub, we arrived in Times Square, where Jackie's folks were staying. They were staying in the Iroquois, in a 3 room suite that was habitated by James Dean from 1950-1953. How deliriously swank. And cool. James Dean was probably fucking his tricks in the room I slept in... that’s so fuckin' bitchin'. Mmmm...

We actually ended up going to the show at the Cafe and hearing Chocolate Thai and Jubilee sing. They cafe had plenty of seating, as it was an 'unannounced' show, but there were still a number of heads present. Throughout the show, CT and Jubilee kept referring to us as their "DC Friends." It was really sweet. After the show, we walked around the borough we were in smoking a joint and gabbing. As it turns out, they are going to be on Sesame Street! I need to make sure I'm paying attention so that I can tape it. I would love to see someone I smoked with chillin' with Grover.

I kinda absent mindedly just left out Dan's friend at NYU, Adrian. I'm annoyed with her, and was annoyed with him about her. Long stories short: She was supposed to be out of her class and call at 2:00. We put ourselves in Union Square to meet her. She never called. Dan called, and she didn't answer. Dan apparently didn't make super solid plans, but never made that clear. Then Jackie wanted us to pick her up a handle of Jim Bean. No big deal-- we asked Adrian when the store stopped sellin' liquor, and she told us midnight. The show finished at 10:30, and we asked where we should go to get some, and then she said that they were already closed. I don't know if she's just super-self-absorbed or what, but I'd rather not believe she purposefully lied to my friends and I. She also didn't really say a helluva lot to my friends which pissed me off. I realized Dan hadn't seen her in ages, but I'd never treat his friends the way she treated mine, or at least not without apologizing to Dan for it later. No such apology came. It wasn't even the apology from him that I wanted, it was an awareness that maybe he is some how accountable for his friends actions.

Accountability is a big issue for Dan. Whenever something happens, its the worlds fault, or someone elses. He also is aimless and has no direct ambition. He's totally inactive in any decision making process regarding his own life. It grates on me so badly because I know what it feels like to be there, in that space. I was in that space not so very long ago, and being around it now feels almost like a step backwards. I've talked about it with him, and I'm optimistic, but darn it, shape up.

I talked to Mara about it, and she gave good advice-- stick it out. Be a responsible, mature person, and watch it wear off. I guess she's right. My annoyance with it and my readiness to drop him immediately for it is nothing more than my own self defense mechanism showing up... but it is a valid issue, and one worth paying attention to.

Anyway, back to New York, since I've gotten that tangent out of my system. Adrian neglected to tell us that getting into NYUs buildings required a Driver's License and a Driver's License only; Lauren only had her passport, and thusly couldn't be admitted into the dorms. Jess and Lauren were rightly pissed at this point. Afterall, Jackie, one of the sweetest (don't tell her I said that) girls in the world had let us stay at her folks suite in NYC, and all she requested was some liquor. She requested it of Jess, and because of Dan's friend's flightiness, we couldn't get it.

Jackie was on her way down from midtown on the subway when we discovered our inability to enter the dorms, so we waited outside for her. I told Dan to stay behind and play with his friend. When Jackie found us in Union Square, we bought beer and hopped back on the metro.

At the hotel, Lauren and Jess quickly fell asleep. Jackie and I drank a beer or two and then diddybopped into Time Square. We walked around in the neoday that only Vegas and Time Square can seem to replicate. We wandered, talked, bonded, and fell into the almost sensuous serenity of being nearly native. The city envelopes, controls, and somehow still stays in the background... We felt like we belonged. We shared months worth of emotion and unlocked the emotional toolchest and got to work on one another, listening, wandering, talking, and bonding some more. I love Jackie. We finished off a few more back at the hotel, never getting drunk, and just talked until the sun was nearly ready to come up. The next morning we got a hold in Jackie's Chin, bought a bowl, had cream of asparagus soup, tried on sunglasses, and caught a china town bus home.

When we got back in the car, I was expecting Dan to mention his friend's behavior. It never came. I grew annoyed with my own thoughts, and wanted to sort them out, so I had planned on going home. Dan could see that something was pissing me off, so he asked what it was. I expressed to him my concern with his lack of awareness and lack of accountability. The discussion was short-lived, however, because bad news came. The bust for Pot that had occurred had managed to get Dan kicked off campus, though he had no official wrong-doing. His lack of grounding annoyed me even more after I worked really hard to get his police report released. I pretended to be Joel Kelly, of Billingsly and Snead, while talking on the phone with one Margaret Jones, from the Police records office. I convinced her that I was a paralegal, and was helping Mr. Snead work on a case where time was of the essence. It took convincing, but she agreed to release the records so that Dan could have them for his appeal... which had to be turned in literally two days after he got the notice of eviction.

Anyway, all I had to do was fax Ms. Jones the info she requested, which Dan had. Dan should have been just about ready to go to his next class when I called him to get him to fax the information over... but guess what? Instead of following through with any of the shit he needed to get done, he went to the mall, while his friend Meg and I helped prepare his stuff. We were both annoyed. My annoyance lasted a solid couple of days, and I told him to just go back to Delaware if he's not bettering himself here. He's just so friggin young in so many ways. Kelly calls 'em Boy years. She says he's not even a child in boy years, that hes still a baby, and in many ways I think she's right. Ahh, dual influence... Mara has validity and so does Kelly. I think they're both right in the words they've spoken. I need to watch out that I'm not dippin' out on this kid because of my defenses, and also not taking more than I should, as per Kelly.

Speaking of Kelly, she invited me to a fund-raiser/house party on Saturday night that was bein' held by a bunch of greenpeace-ers. It was up in NW, so I drove up from Colonial Beach and picked up Dan along the way. We grabbed Jess from her Cosi and checked into what will (hopefully soon) be my Cosi so that I could say Hola to e'rybahdy. We got to the house party without too much effort, and wouldn't you know it, the party was fuckin' hoppin'. Two kegs were going, the dancefloor was bein' held up beat-to-beat by one of the dudes from Thievery Corporation, and the ghanga was waftin' all through the top floor. We had a smoke session and Jess, who no longer smokes, caught herself a lovely-lovely contact high. So lovely, in fact, that as we were walkin' out the window to the rooftop area, Jess almost took a second face-plant of the month... this time over the roof. Luckily balance was caught, but whoooo booy, was it funny/scary/ridiculous.

For the Greenpeace party, I decided to make a pair of jeans. Well, not make, so much as modify, but anyway, I had these jeans from Gap that I slit up the side nearly to my midthigh on each side and on the inner side, up to my knee. For Madonnarama last year they were safety-pinned together and made into a neuvo-prince kinda look. Loved 'em. For this event, I attacked an old garter set, and made different sized strips tapering from shorter strips to longer, and stitched them into the slits. Then I took my mom's curtain decorating rope and fashioned a belt that does this in the front: //\ And comes around into the back and cups my ass really tightly. The jeans turned out to be a smashing hit, they got talked about in a positive light on a couple of occasions. This, of course, stroked my vanity like no other, and made me grin from ear to ear.

I mentioned earlier that I pretended to be Joel Kelly, of Billingsly and Snead. Well, I got to tell Caroline that I was pretending to be her father’s paralegal (Snead, get it) the other day. She and I took Anabell for a walk that was only supposed to be around the block, but ended up taking about two hours. I guess we had a lot to talk about. Caroline’s lookin’ well, and feelin’ better, too, from what I understand. They just readjusted her thyroid medication, so we’ll see what that brings. I told her that I was trying the Atkins Diet (which I am, btw) for a while, and she was totally supportive. Until she showed me this three layer dessert she made. It was so rich that even the enviable appetite of the Snead Family couldn’t finish the dish in one sitting. She told me to chew it up and spit it out, it was that good. I did. It was.

Also from the vaults of Caroline… she had found this stray a few months ago that she named Jake. He was a good puppy, but Papa Snead wouldn’t let ‘er keep it. Anabell was enough fur in his house as-was, so she hunted around to find a new owner. One of her bookclub buddies stepped up to the plate, and the puppy shipped off to Caroline County. Well, the dog got loose from the new owner. Its fine, no worries, but one of the neighbors called the police on the cute little beagle for dog vagrancy. She had to go to court for it and everything.

So, there this girl is, in court, when they announce the Honorable Charles Snead presiding. Andrea, the new dog’s owner, thinks to herself for a minute: Caroline’s last name is Snead. Caroline’s Dad is a judge. She sees the judge, and he’s a large man. Caroline’s Father is a large man.

Can you believe it? The man who turned away the vagrant dog to begin with is now presiding over the case. Poor Andrea is so honest that she didn’t mention it at the time to him, but Papa Snead got rid of the charges anyway. So, when Caroline told her daddy what happened, he about lost it with laughter. “Why didn’t she say somethin’?” he bellowed with laughter. “I liiive for letting people go for no good reason. All she had to do was say ‘Your honor, Caroline Snead gave me this dog, and I’ve just recently been learnin’ how to take the proper care this vagrant dog needs.’ And I would have said, ‘Of course! This dog has a history of vagrancy, one that I am very familiar with! There are extenuating circumstances! Dismissed!” I don’t know if Papa Snead would use that many exclamations, but I imagine that he would, so we’re gonna let ‘em stay.

Tomorrow's going to be a busy day... I'll discover whether or not I get my job at Cosi back fo' rizzle, I get a massage by Kelly, and then I get to take her out to lunch. Following that, fingers crossed, I get to go to work.

By the way, Alanis cut her hair. Love it.

Interesting week. Had my meeting with the dean. That didn't go as well as I would have liked-- apparently Sara Strom had something different to say than the rest of us. And there was an error on the police report saying that Dan and I admitted to drinking and smoking marijuana.

We admitted to neither. I'm nervous, but there is no way to prove that I did anything wrong. So, if something bad happens, I appeal.

I don't know what to do. Sugar in Sara's gas tank seems like a valid response. Keying and vinegar? I don't know. Either way, something should happen, but I care more for my Karma than for retribution. The police report feels like the toughest one to find a response to. Do I get a lawyer involved? Do I have to ask Papa Snead for assistance? At what point do I discuss this with the folks? Lawdy.

My cousins are here, and we're looking for something fun to do. Colonial Beach never seems to lend itself to fun, so I think we might just go get ice cream and a movie. In the mean time how about a survey?

Grab the book nearest you, turn to page 23, find line 5. Write down what it says, along with this sentence, and post it in your journal.

"They charge more, and you lose more," I say aloud without thinking, and there's a laugh around the room. God, how embarassing. And now Like brandon's lifting his head, too. Quckly I look down and pretend to be writing notes.

1: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 98, find line 6. Write down what it says.
"Yeah, great!" she says, and takes a huge bite of nan.

2: Stretch your left arm out as far as you can. What do you touch first?
A curtain.

3: What is the last thing you watched on TV?
Mad TV

4: WITHOUT LOOKING, guess what the time is:
8ish

5: Now look at the clock, what is the actual time?
7:58pm

6: With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
The TV, and my cousins Krista and Aric laughing.

7: When did you last step outside? What were you doing?
Mom, Krista, Aric, Aunt Karin and I were playing scrabble on the deck a couple of hours ago.

8: Before you came to this website, what did you look at?
The TV.

9: What are you wearing?
Jeans, shoes, a hoodie.

10: Did you dream last night?
Not as far as I know.

11: Is your boss a power-hungry nut case or...?
One's a sketchy morrocan. One's a white-break dick. The others are great.

12: Imagine your first child is a girl, what do you call her?
Robyn Renee Hall

13: Imagine your first child is a boy, what do you call him?
Joel Kelly Hall

14: Would you ever consider living abroad?
I dunno. I'd miss my fam.

Today has been a day of reflection unlike any I've had in recent memory. We celebrated Easter with the typical trappings of baskets and fake green grass that has been the tradition for every year I've been alive.

A lot of time has passed since 1996. Krista, Aric, Aunt Karin, Uncle Mark, Mom, Dad and I were reminded of it as we watched old movies of bygone holidays. We've grown up so much, we're so different, we're a million other cliches, but we're also very human; and thus, we're susceptible to a million more.

I taped over a part of Easter '97, which took place in Ohio, at some point. I'm an asshole. How was one episode of a stupid soap opera more important than my family's history? I guess I wanted to replace those years so badly that I not only removed the entries from my mind, I was cavalier about erasing them on tape, too. I didn't even think about who's feelings and memories it could hurt.

Such an asshole.

No grudges were held for my indiscretion with a tape. So little fear of retribution from my kin, in fact, that Krista was trusted with putting a hole in my body. A second cartilage piercing to match hers. Krista did it with a needle and an orange... my first new piercing since Trev, Matt, and I went and got my nipple pierced in July or August of 2001.

The hole in my nipple is still open, but no ring resides in it. I lost the metallic memory marker in a boy named Sebastian's apartment this summer. I met him in a dimly lit hotel party where a drag queen named Simone held court, and the party goers reveled, tweaked, and made complete asses of themselves, myself included. I swirled, passed out, and was taken care of by Sebastian at that gathering, one of the few times I needed Mike-sitting at a party. He kept the drag queen away from me, I reckon claiming me as his own in some sort of sick drug addict ritualistic way. I hadn't slept in 5 days.

We had hit it off earlier, I was taken by the glint his eyes displayed, though they were nearly covered by an angora kangol hat. He was the type of boy you weren't sure whether to hire to paint your fence or invite inside to paint the town, the kind who might use his knife for your defense or for worse. It didn't hardly much matter which you desired more, there was no short end to his stick. There's little question to those that know me why I was drawn in; He was a cup game, quick figure eights and tempestuous transition, daring your eyes to blink.

No, I should have known. I liked that he wrapped my mind up in wit, tied it up, and held it dear. I liked how the shadows ended before his lips began, leaving me with the anticipation of each well formed word. I wanted to listen, I wanted to taste.

He wanted me, too. My time in Sebastian's company in any capacity was around two months, and he led me to the social pools in which I nearly drowned. He himself proved to a horrible floatation device, one who preferred to sit at the bottom rather than rise to the top. He was a drug addict, with a far more ferocious addiction than my own.

He was also missing pieces of his soul that I could never repair; parents, best friends, a traitorous nature, and tina.

He left my life easily enough, an amputation necessary and grotesque for all the ways a mind can quiver and become weak for a drug that was flesh and blood.

I saw him online today. His bio said "4 Rnt."

There were rumors that got back to me almost as soon as I started speaking about him to others. All signs pointed to the fact that Sebastian had escorted previously. I checked my facts. They all pointed to prostitution, but I wanted to believe him when he told me they were untrue.

I can't make light of my own allowed delusions... I did, actually, believe him. I let myself be lied to. I let him meet my mother. I let him sleep in my bed, and told him he had a place to go if he needed to clean up. I wanted to believe I could help wash away the filth of addiction as easily as one wipes oil from the bridge of their nose. I wanted to believe that I wasn't feeling deep emotions for a liar and a whore.

I couldn't care less if he sold his body for money. I wish he hadn't sold his integrity. I wish he hadn't sold me out. I wish he hadn't lied to me.

I wish that holes in my body weren't reminders of holes in my soul. Holes in my own integrity. Holes in my own honesty.

I might have a thousand wishes, but I'll be damned if I'll rub a thousand lamps. Let him do that.

I can't tape over last year any more than I can erase myself. Let the sty in my third eye see skewed versions of myself, they can't be any worse than lies I believed or the lies I told myself and then repeated to others. Fuck Sebastian. I hope everytime he blows someone, he remembers blowing out the candles in my room before climbing to bed, remembers what my face looked like as I went down on Justin, and I hope he feels in his sleep, when he does sleep, what my lips felt like on his.

I hope he waits in anticipation for the taste of me. Let my only vengeance be my very lack of it.

Hit play.

Sun-drained and deeply tanned is how I'm spending this third of july. Krista and Crystal came down the day before yesterday to visit, and we went over to Playbill for drinks and for karokee. When we arrived, there was this amazing singer doing her rendition of "The Greatest Love" by Whitney. She rocked the fucking house. The next few singers were no less stunning.

Who knew that they were from two musicals over at the Kennedy Center? "Beehive" and "Sheer Madness" have been playing for a little while each over there, and I guess the principals made their way to my little dive bar for fun and laughs.

Poor Crystal, the one member of the family who can really sing didn't even get a chance to show her chops, since the Karokee machine broke half way into the evening. The other half of the evening was filled with acapella-ness.

We left, somewhat appropriatly, on "Empty Chairs" from Les Mis.

We had finished off my big ass bottle of Vodka before going across the street, so when we got back and danced in my apartment for an hour, it allowed us some sobering-up time. It also allowed for some hardcore emotional bonding... over the words and music of Dar Williams. We hugged, cried, and remembered why we were so glad to have each other.

LOVE them.

After the hour or two back at the apartment, we hopped our way over to Apex and did some dancing. A cute boy in a hat danced with Crystal, and Krista and I just rocked our shit. It was one of those nights where I wasn't feeling dance shy at all, so I grabbed the girls by the hand and led them to the up-stage area, and the crowd cleared for us. Its a satisfying feeling to watch people watch you, and know that they are making desirous looks. It feels good, its fucking empowering, and it makes me want to shake my dance shyness altogether. If Krista and Crystal are the antidotes for it, maybe they should just be around more often... just a thought. 😉

Anyway, we came down to the country the next morning, ending up at my folks bright and early; we left at 8:45, and made it here by like 11ish, including the stop at McDonald's.

We drank lovely frozen drinks and swam in the pool all day long. I'm a red-tastic light-burned thats going to fade into a gorgeous tanned, which is more than I can say for Ms. Crystal, who missed spots all over herself with the suntan lotion, and thusly looks like a bizarre picasso. No big thing. Its just funny shit.

We had been up for so long, drunken no less, that as soon as 10:30 rolled around, we were crawling into the tent to pass out.

Oh, ya, with so many heads in the house, we just pitched a tent in the back yard and pretending to be pioneers. It somewhat matches another portion of the day's activities... we decided to put go trapsing through the swamps around here like we did when we were little.

Muddy and yucky. Totally my childhood.

Right, so yeah, at 10:30 we were crawling into the tent, and being the person I am, I went ahead and checked my phone for messages. I had a text message from Bville Boy. Bville is an old coworker of mine, and someone I once considered a really good friend. When I cleaned up my addictions, I ended up losing my friendship with him.

He and his then-boyfriend were Lauren's roommates in the Holmead House, and they really sorta scewed over the member's of that home. Lauren, of course, is living with me now, but the reason she moved into the apartment with Jess in the first place had a lot to do with having to move out of the Holmead House-- when half of your roomates, Bville and BVEx, aren't paying, you sorta have to get the hell out.

So, Bville Boy revealed to me that he was at court for his eviction proceedings, and during the trial or whatever, he had a heart attack. A real, honest to god heart attack. He's fine, from what I can tell, but having his heart stops eems to be what he needed to kick start his quitting. BVEx has decided not to kick the habit, nor has his BVille's best friend... and to my shock, the ex and the best friend (who is a lesbian) are living with someone new... Justin...

I've mentioned Justin here previously. I hold massive distrust for anything/anyone associated with that boy, and damn it, I'm honestly thrown through a loop. How do you trust someone who is tied to the person you most intimatly tie in your head to your abuse?

Bville Boy was crying on the phone with me, and he told me he missed me. I'm the only person he knows who's actually cleaned themselves up, and he wasn't sure if he should contact me or not. Kate told him to. She said I'd be a good person to talk to about this... Kate. More old ties.

He informed me he's living with his parents, and I told him to stay there. I told him that's the best place to be (his parents are apparently helping him a ton, being supportive, etc). I promised we could get coffee, and that we could talk about anything he wanted to. He was grateful. He asked me how I did it, how I quit-- he said it was so hard. How did I quit? Because I had to! Because my life was called into question, and I chose togo on living... and to him I swore, swore on my life, that it was worth it.

I want to call Kate and fact check. We'd spoken fairly recently, had a real chat, and I think she's on the path to "un-broken." Even when we were both broken toys, we still had an underlying bond. I feel like I can talk to her about whats going on without there being any pretense of sketch.

Justin also makes me so paranoid, so fucking sketchy, that when Bville told me that his ex and his old favorite lesbianwere living with Justin, I immediatly thought that this was a trick, or that Justin was trying to somehow "get" me.

A well placed call to Tara calmed my fears and squelched the paranoia, thank goodness. She provided me a superb Crazy Check, bringing me back to reality. She pointed out what I needed to have repeated, and reiterated the arms-length embrace philosophy that I was already thinking about.

I want to know so much more about whats going on in this situation. I'm curious how Bville, BVEx and Justin could have crossed paths to the point that they'd be living together. I want to know how much Kate is involved with Justin. Argh. Nothing I can do from here. I know I need to not think about it... just calm the fuck down and just tan more. A good tan solves so much. And besides, if I'm gonna see Bville I wanna have a tan, just 'cause I'm vain.

Speaking of vain, I did have steak and crabs today for dinner... I'm going to get soooo fat visiting my parents. Just thinking about these associations from my past make me feel obese. Isn't that awful? I wish Krista and Crystal didn't have to work on the Fourth and could just be here tomorrow, too. They left tonight to go back up to their respective states, and somehow I don't mind bein' a True Fatty when they're here...

It's a quiet 11:30, I shouldn't be home. I should be at work, at Cosi, still waiting tables, and still bitching about shit that doesn't really matter to the real world. Except, unfortunatly, I'm not. I don't work there anymore.

I'm not so upset about it that I want to be forlorne. I'm not driven mad with a burning desire to return. I simply want a job that pays well again, one where I enjoy the perks and most of the co-workers. Today found me at Dupont Italian Kitchen (DIK), Trio, and FoodBar applying. I don't know what will become of those efforts, but they all seem to be options that are valid.

I even called the DC Improv to see if they were hiring waiters. They weren't. I want to go turn in an application anyway, because I figure what can it hurt? It seems like such a nifty job. Tara just got herself working for a comedy club in New York-- she's a promoter, one of those girls that offer you deals on tickets and food for one great price. If you've ever spent any time in NYC you know exactly what I'm referencing.

I'm still lying to the folks about working so that they don't worry needlessly. They know I'm "job hunting", but they don't know that I actually am unemployeed. I fibbed and said I took the day off yesterday so that Chris (my brother), Cathy (his wife), Christopher and Christina (their kids) could come tour DC. We went to the Natural History Mueseum, Air and Space Museum, the White House, the Botanical Gardens, the Capital, and the Zoo. They were thrilled to see it all-- as was I.

I enjoy that Cathy smokes pot-- I really do. We got to smoke together before heading off to the Zoo, and it made the experience even more fun. I'm tickled. I'm actually gonna go back down to my folks' tomorrow for Lunch, seein' as how Cathy promised me a real italian meal. I'm stoked.

In regards to food, Jenny Lee cooked me a yummy, yummy dinner this evening. It was just Veggie Burger sandwhiches, but with our trip to Whole Foods, we had lovely fixens, and I was thrilled. We even ran into Alex (funny, since they live together :P), and we all chatted. I like him so much. I wish that I had a way to actually ask him out on a date sometime. I'm not sure how to seguey it, since he and I are allotted little alone time. I don't even know that he's in to me. I like to think he is, but really, who knows? Either way, he's a wonderful, wonderful guy. His roomate is no less stellar.

She's kind of a godess, ya know? She's so ridiculously genuine that you almost want to tell her every minute of every moment how precious she is. She rocks my world. She cooks me dinner. She teaches me about belgian beer. What more can you ask for in a friend? Speakin' of Belgian Beer, I'm just now getting in from Saint-Ex, a bar on 14th Street. They had a reall chill, relaxed crowd, kind of mixed between the straights and the homos, and the DJ was spinning some decent midtempo grooves. A lovely time.

At anyrate, tomorrow morning I've got my interview at Perry's and then a drive to my folks ahead of me. Not neccesarily busy, but time cramped. I'm goin' to bed.

Okay, so Halo isn't at 14th and Mass, its at 14th and P.

Basically, the hip new spot that just opened Friday is seeable from my window. In fact, its only three doors down from me. Weird, right? I was really expecting it to be a straight bar, but apparently its far from it: totally 'mo. Its also really, really pretty with a wall-to-ceiling curve that makes it tunnelesque. The red and blue lights they use to illuminate the wall sets really nice fuckin' tone, and the frosted glass illuminated yellow for the bar area is gorgeous. It helps that the red and yellow used are my favorite colors.

Anywho, Sacha before coming over filled me up a sippy cup of Everclear and mixed it with a melted daquri that had been sitting in her fridge for about three days. I wasn't gonna be shy, so I drank the bitch.

Yummy Yummy. Drunk Drunk.

So, ya, after not being able to find the place when we went down to 14th and Mass we met up with Sacha's friend Sam at Playbill, got a cocktail, and the bar tender told us where to go. Had a nice time, caught up with Shaina, Sacha's friend. She was with her Michael... Sacha adn Shaina each have a Michael, though they both agree I'm the better one (giggle!). Okay, so Sacha thinks I'm the better, maybe Shania doesn't for sure, but Sacha DOES frequently yell at Other Michael the following: "Oh Yeah?! I've gotta Michael, too!"

She does this unprompted and loudly, as only she can get away with.

So, I was gonna go over to Sacha's friend Greggles, but ended up runnin' in to Lauren first. We ended up smokin' cigarettes and gabbin' and then just passin' the hell out.

So, this morning I was woken up oddly.

Lauren hears the door down stairs open, and then slam. She hears these loud *thud thud thuds* coming up the stairs, very assertively. Then she hears *pound pound pound* on the door. Of course she thinks I'm about to be arrested or evicted or some such, so she quickly throws on shorts and a shirt (we're naked a lot), and answers the door.

It's my Mom, who lives two hours from here. Weird.

Well, either way she asks if I'm here, and Lauren tells her yep, and then says that I'm in bed asleep, half naked, she's sure. Mom jokingly responds "Is he alone?" and heads for the door.

Pause.
Turns around.
"He is alone, right?"

So, ya, mom just dropped the hell on by, Dad in tow. They came to carnap my Blazer. After the homeless person took up residence in it, went through all of my things that I hadn't taken out, and stole my band aids, we knew it was time to go. Or it may have been after the gas was syphoned. Whichever. Either way, they came and took my car.
I was most certainly still a little drunk when my mom got me up, but either way, it was fantastic to see 'em just drop by. She even gave me money for clothes hangers.

Brunch today saw Lauren, Jenny Lee, Pam, Carter and I at Saint-Ex. Carter is the boy who works at Urban and has somehow just worked his way into my friendship circle by simply being wherever I am. Weird, I realize, but yeah, fun guy. The bartender even randomly poured us a couple of redheaded slus on the way out. That was after the car drove by and threw an egg out the window at us (we sat on Saint-Ex's patio). Who the fuck gets EGGED?! Us, apparently.

We did a little window shopping together and really had a fab fucking time. I really, really liked the group dynamic of us five. A LOT. I want more of that.

Anywho, had to clean up quickly for work while everyone else just gabbed in my living room, and then bounced off to my first day of actual server training at Perry's. I rode my bike this time, which made the commute a heckuvalot easier. 9 hours later, I'm about to bop into Dupont to go grab a beer with Pam and Lauren.

So, gotta go, but wanted to hammer this out before I ran outta time.