I love my Mommy. She sends me this when I am blue. xx

Let's make momos when I get home! @Barmanmichael

Retweeted Terms of Gemini (@GeminiTerms):

For #Gemini - God = Everything, Mom + Dad = Heroes, Best Friends = Happiness, You = Love.

Retweeted Big Brother UK (@bbuk):

That moment when the person you really, really don't want to be the new housemate enters... Awks! #CBB

Mom took this one

Mom on Xmas! Ho ho ho!!

Hammock + Mom

That moment you realize you've jocked Richard Freeman's hair game.

That moment you discover your college roommate is reaction gif from wrestlemamia.

Value the present moment when confronted with presents in a moment. "May leaders lead with wisdom, may all nations be prosperous, and may all creatures everywhere be happy and free. Peace."

That moment when you realize NO ONE had told you there is toothpaste ALL over your face.

the importance of knowing your family history: mom was bootlegging hard cider in her closet at age 14. ミ☆ the more you know! ☆彡

I'm pretty sure some of my issues stem from my repeated viewings of Charlotte's Web. Mom had a 1k late fee in '87. Errol's settled for the cost of the VHS: $70.

That moment when someone drops in to led half primary and calls you a racist for counting in Sanskrit.

that amazing moment when you *finally* relax.

If you have a moment, will you please wish for the health of your loved one's loved ones? Thank you for considering. xo

Talked to Mom & Dad for an hour-- best gift a boy could ask for. Sounds really sappy, but it's the truth. Connection is better than wrapping paper.

I was attacked and hospitalized this year for being gay. My partner was refused from the hospital. He spent the night alone scared *I* might die alone. I did, too. This election year, there is a gentleman asking for your vote who believes we do not deserve equal rights-- including being together in the hospital. In the ever-after. Nor fiscally. I ask you to please not think of your wallets at the ballot, but of your hearts. Could you let your husband die alone? Mitt Romney would say that I deserve to die that way-- and I can't elect him. I hope that you cannot either. If you love me (or love your spouse) I ask that you pause and reflect on morals and compassion. I have never been so scared in my entire life as I was in that night-- alone. Please know that your vote goes beyond laissez-faire notions of capitalism and concerns of modified socialism and hits me directly at home. A vote for Mitt Romney will bolster an opportunity to strip me of civil rights, and I pray that your heart won't allow that. If you can in good conscience and faith elect an official who will allow me to die alone with a catheter but no solace, may peace be with you. I cannot. There is no tax break worth my humanity or my husband's tears. I pray that the reality of that notion means that you cannot either. If it doesn't, however, I wish you a moment of reckoning. Again, may peace be with you.

My cute boyfriend at dinner with Mom & Dad!!

My parents were married on the first day of Spring-- a time when the chill is thawed and blooms rebound. Happy 30th, Gail and Mike (aka: Mom & Dad): you inspire me everyday.

Mom won't let me talk about American Greed on Skype. She's concerned Big Brother's listening. 🙂

I broke a tooth today! A trip to vist Dr Judith Pereira in Mysore for a fix and clean! Amazing grand total? 1100 Rupees... $22 dollars. She also said I was the politest American she had ever met and complimented my parents. She said I should be proud of them. Thanks, Mom!

Too stressed out. Taking a few moments to create and be.

...highlights so far...
Chatting with nieces, bedside coffee with snowfall, sharing my peach pork roast recipe with Mom, bullshitting with Dad, a cute outfit for the gym.

is gonna leave an impression: STROGA @ 6:45. Change is in the air. Come ride the momentum.

During the super sweaty and grunty high intensity portion of today’s CrossFit workout, we worked in two heats. I found myself in the second heat, and subsuqently was able to observe other people doing what I was about to go do– and the free few moments to wonder why I was about to put such a great set of physical demands on my body.

But then soon it was my turn, and soon I was done. And before even that? The thought had passed. As I read this evening, I came across some words that answered the question I had forgotten:

“We are still animals — our physical existence is, in the final analysis, the only one that actually matters. A weak man is not as happy as that same man would be if he were strong. This reality is offensive to some people who would like the intellectual or spiritual to take precedence. It is instructive to see what happens to these very people as their squat strength goes up.”

-Mark Rippetoe

I think he’s right. I am happy.

tied plastic baggies outside of his socks just as he was taught to by his mommy & daddy.

Oh, Trevis. If only I could apolgoize more. When your best friend died, all we could do was hold a moment in time for her. I was so selfish, I didn't get the gravity of losing a best friend, even one that had been so distant for so long. You lit some candles, and I couldn't comprehend your grief. We had been waiting for her to OD and die, or (barring that) some sort of other combination o' awfu. We all guesssed that it would eventually come, and none of us were shocked. And I thought my nontear stained face was okay.

And then my best friend died. And I've sobbed for her, but not in recent years.

But tonight I sobbed for Emily. Woe is the holidays, and I miss her. I'm gonna visit her grave for Christmas, I think, and I'll bring that bitch cookies. I never bake, but I will for her. I'll have Mark or Geoff supervise. I can't take it. I've never missed her more. I want to believe she'd be proud of the man I am.

Emily'd be so proud. She'd be angry that I ran a marathon, but share my bed nonetheless. Odds are good she'd wear the pajamapants she always wore (I haven't worn them out or thrown them away). I miss her so much. She'd call me out for days. She'd send me an awful IM.

I love the holidays, but, oh yes, I hate them too.

Not too much decadence this weekend, kiddies. Flip Orley, the comic hypnotist, has been at the Improv all week. He's a hoot, he really is, even if he stays on stage longer than Cats ran. Its been okay, though, I worked most of the heavy drinking out of my system on Tuesday. When I said that we hit DG for Happy Hour, I meant that we simply started our drinking at 6-- we eventuially bopped off to the Hunt, where I continued to drink like a Kennedy. And we smoked, of course. Alex even made it over, and it was with her that I stumbled back to my place. We watched quality television and were just kinda drunk at each other. We had a ball.

Can you figure out why this chair is hardcore chained to a street sign outside of my apartment? Lauren, Geoff, and I couldn't-- granted we were (you guessed it!) drunk.







Speaking of street signs, on Wednesday one fell on me. No Standing or Parking. Whats sad is that I wasn't doing either, I was walking. 9 Foot Tall Fucker. That pretty much truncated any exercise from Thursday on (though it's back to the gym tomorrow). It also kept me outta the bars and clubs, and let me spend Thursday in, which I fully dug. Alex kept me company in my ouchies state.

I got to see Wendy at work tonight. Stevey Snakebite fucked up his knee playing softball today (we'll worry after the rest of the tests), so Wendy covered the shift for him. I was too drunk to be a good listener when I saw her on Tuesday, so I got to hear the stories from her and Zarah's trip to New Orlean's a second time tonight. Fab. She brought me back a choco-cocko-pop with nuts in the nuts. Frickin' sweet.

Zahra dubbed me Gay-Lo for my Paparazzi Protectors and eurotrashy shirting.





I don't know if removing the shirt made me more of less Gay-Lo, but who cares. More than a new shirt, I need a new hat, and I think I want one of either Fernando Alonso or Jenson Button. Alonso is way hotter and a better racer so far, but Geoff's into Giancarlo Fisichella, and I fear that its too gay (literally) or something for us to have almost matching hats. I may just wait for Scott Speed to make his debut for Red Bull Racing next season. His car is dope, he's adorable and American-- plus his name has to be fake, right? Formula 1 kinda rules... Fast Cars, Hot Guys, and Apparel. You know you want in.

Mark and I shook out the shag rugs today. On my corner. You have to go outside for an event like that, regardless of where you live, but in the country its much easier. Your back yard distinctly belongs to you and only you, but here in the district my back yard is the neighborhood’s posh grocery store. People get uglypissed when they’re attacked by dirt launched from what looks like a dead llama being beaten by a fag in the middle of the sidewalk.

Fuck ‘em. Fifteen shaken, beaten, dirty lookin’ minutes later, and I had clean carpets.

My apartment’s now a cohesive whole, if you couldn’t tell from the shag-shakin’ anecdote. I highly recommend looking in my windows should you find yourself on the yonder side of P or 14th. You can see a giant glowing “M” coming from my bedroom. I hung, oh I dunno, about eighteen feet of super bright rope light behind a 6 foot asian rice curtain that’s stuck to the wall about 14 feet up… so, now everyone’s left with my monogram starin’ up Northwest. It feels good, and is also incredibly, absolutely self important. Word.

I’m no longer inhabiting the Apartment Rowanda—its blossomed. Its all fourteenth amendment up in here, reconstructions going down right here on fourteenth street.Yah, Le Chateau de Ghetto is now a little more chateau, and a whole lot less ghetto. I’ve got curtains, the floors are mopped and the art is not only on the walls, but in frames. Carpets are clean, surfaces are dirtless, furniture is matching, and I’m even cooking in (though, that has more to do with the weight of my wallet than with the allure of local eateries).

I wish my apartment were more of a physical avatar for my inner feelings, ‘cause then my head’d be feelin a little less messy. Unlike my carpets, I still feel weighed down by something. Even going to the gym and going tanning feels like a chore. Maybe its me that needs to be taken into the backyard for a good pounding, ‘cause my sex drive is nill. I’m left to wonder, of course, whether its me that’s down about my sex drive or my drive that’s responding to me. Chicken or the egg, kiddies?

Ugh, listen to me. ”Who is it that I want? And why don’t they want me?” Lord. Sorry to go all Joey Potter on you, but it’s a problem. And that’s prescientology crooked smile Holmes, not the arm candy to crazy couch surfing superstar creature that the Star keeps telling me about. (No, I haven’t seen Batman Begins yet)

I could wax celebrepoetic all day on the vast neurosis of my inner angsterreha, but I’ll let it end here—for the time being. Only boys with boyfriends, both connected to the Improv, seem to want to flirt openly. I can’t (with a clear head) go a nookie-nooking behind some dudes back knowingly. Its just yuck-o. I should totally just go get cats and take up knitting. Uuuugh, I actually already know how to knit. I’m halfway there. Sidebar—Trev, who I learned how to knit with, got a hold of me this week. We chatted. I don’t trust myself not to cry at the end of our instant messages, and I secretly loathe myself for that. I haven’t yet cried, and odds are good I never will, but oooooh if my shrink were here….

Enough, enough, I said I’d stop.

Shits good. The world’s calm. This is no hurricane’s eye, there is no monsoon approaching. Its just stability. Stability is new and really, really scary. Terrifying. Setbacks give you a reason to sprint, and forward momentum is exhilarating, but stability feels way too much like attrition. You wanna know something else about stability? Its boring as fuck. Yah, uh huh, you heard me-- it’s totally not at all interesting. I’m really surprised you’re still here.

Lemmie see if I can figure out something good to tell you. What is interesting right now? Lauren’s gone to San Fran for the week (its pride!), Geoff’s in Boston (for training), and I’m workin’ every show this week at the club. Erin had her Birthday last night at the Ugly Mugg, and I now dig the fuck outta Eastern Market. I had a phenomenal time. JD wasn’t there, but that’s okay, cause I think he and Nelina deserved some good nookieing in their new place (which is in Erin’s building, overlooking Meridian Hill Park). Kelly is back from South Korea, and I’m stoked to see her. The neighbors got a new kitten that’s taken to shitting in their laundry basket. I almost got the kitty, but I decided against it since they liked him, too. If he’s shitting in laundry baskets, maybe I made the right call (but I do want one!).

What else? I worked on my resume and sent it out to a variety of Craig’s list ads in the marketing, PR, and promotions section, and what do you know? Someone’s interested in me. The gigs for coordinating and creating events for a GLBT crowd at straight bars. Bring it the fuck on. I’ve spent so much freakin time getting bombed at the Hunt, the Fox, and the Front Page instead of JRs and the Fireplace, and now I get to refer to all that time as research and interning. Bitchin.

Back to my internship.

Not a lot to report, kiddies. No news is good news, or so Mom used to tell me when the mailbox was empty. Its an empty mailbox month so far. Just playing with the Logan Circle family, relaxing in Dupont Circle on the nice weather days (even climbing trees), and making new friends (Geoff).

Geoff and I jogged down to the Capitol earlier this week, and thats such a quintesential DC type thingie that its worth mentioning. I hadn't done it in a while. Word up hey.

Just a moment of zen from a recent conversation:

I am betting that the average number of threesomes my gay male friends have had is higher than the average number of total sex partners most of my straight male friends have had.

Myself included, hell.

I woke up just now very upset... I had a very vivid dream that I forced myself out of.

The dream starts in an apartment, and someone in that apartment is telling me how truly talented people are always crazy. He then began discussing a woman who could speak french, and then about this same woman's painting, and how it wasn't even what she was most amazing at. I can't remember (now) what she was supposedly best at. In the dream, I recognized the art work as my neighbor's, Caitlin's. We're a little older in the dream. Some things had changed.

I identify the art to the man as Caitlins, and return to working on my own painting. Caitlin is there now. It begins to rain, and the paintings begin to become wet, both caitlin's and I's. Shes there, and faces appear in the paintings that are getting rained on. Its beautiful, unintentional, and lovely.

The dream itself feels like complete reality. There is something going on across the way, in the dream, that requires caitlin and I's attention. I immediatly fear the worst, that something's happened to ashley. I think, in the dream, that she's dead. We run to where the ambulances are. Dream Caitlin is very worried, too.

We get there, things are fine, and the homes that have the emergency are rows of trailers, not unlike the trailer parks I recall from my youth. Caitlin chats up the firefighter, I chat up the other, nothings wrong. I realize I can't remember anything from Real Now to Dream Present Day (the dream, again, is in the future).

The dream goes on, I don't remember now for how long, and I'm now with Caitlin's mom. We're having an intimate time together, the three of us, I think over dinner. I confess that I may need a shrink. I also admit that I don't remember the past four months or so. Not a thing.

I ask them to tell me what happened, what had transpired in the time that I'd lost.

Her mom worries that it will upset me greatly. She, in the dream, is very close to me apparently.

I ask what happened, what I was missing.

They agree it might be time to tell me.

Caitlin hesitantly tells me that a very close friend betrays me. I am told I have nothing to worry about anymore. She tells me it happens on Feburary 22nd. I, in the dream, think thats Mark's birthday. She doesn't confirm or deny anything. She relates that I fell off crystal wagon, hard, and that I'm lucky to be alive. She also tells me that I don't have anything to worry about anymore. I ask if its what I fear, and she says yes. I think that means (in the dream) that I'm HIV +. I, in the dream, get upset, and she tells me that I am just plain lucky to be alive. It is implied that the betrayal and the HIV are related, I believe.

I realize, in the dream, that this can't be real. That I can't have lost THAT much time. I force myself to wake up, and I do.

I go to the kitchen, now in real life, and its flooding. At some point I left the kitchen sink on, or I slept walk and did it.

Weird, right?

Do I start fearing Feb 22?

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.

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.

I totally scratched my eye. 3 tears. Apparently its gonna scab over and be fine in about a week-- crazy, right?

So, I've been wearing my glasses, and been shoppin' around for a new pair. I wanted to get some today, but i was just too friggin' busy. I took Lauren and Gidja to puppy-class today, and we learned how to walk properly on the leash together.

Hrm. That sounded a little more kinky than I intended... but I did try on collars at Petsmart, so I can't say that it wasn't a little deserved.

Anyway, a puppy-class graduate stayed over last night... Ms. Anabelle Lee and her momma, Ms. Caroline. Loooooved having them over. She drove up and we just went out a drankin' and had a fabulous time. Shot some pool, had some drinks, met her friend Nathan and his friend Claudine. Fantastic folks.

Can't say enough good things.

Nathan's a cutie, but he's no Alex. Ahh, Alex. I don't think my crush is ever gonna call me back. Not much I can do about it. Such a shame... I really still like him.

Lauren and I spent the day apartment hunting. She's considerably less happy about the hunt than I was, but I'll be darned if we didn't find a few sweet fucking spots. Now its only a matter of leasing.

Mom watched TLC this weekend and discovered a great idea for my bar room. I took my single bed and transformed it into a daybed/couch with the stolen Ben n' Jerry's disco tables turned into cocktail tables on the edge. The bar room now only needs a bar, and I suspect its finished.

Throw some paint on the walls and it'll be time for a grand opening.

The boy who thinks I'm jewish called me after having my number for nearly a month. He lost it, refound it, and was glad I remember him. He asked me to call him so that we could go out sometime. Yikes!

And, a boy who looks a bit like Seth from the O.C. bought me a flower at work last night... perhaps it's time for me to a have a proper summer of debauchery...

So, uh, like last summer-- sans the crackedoutness.

So, so busy.

Lets see, what happened in the past month?

I got the apartment I wanted so badly. I live at 14th and P... I'm officially Mid-City Mike. So much has happened in the past month, its fairly daunting to decide what it is I should share.


We'll list them.

School gets hectic, so does work, so does moving. My gym-goin' slacks off.

School ends. It will be my last semester at George Mason, as I plan to transfer to the University of the District of Columbia. UDC.

The conversion van I used to move my stuff from Colonial Beach to here had a bad transmission requiring (and resulting in) some slow moving.

Pauline returns to California.

Robyn got married.

Tara moves to New York.

Dan and I put things to an end. We are too different.

I got a bike, which leads to funny drunken bike rides.

Got a boot on the ol' blazer, to the tune of $700.

Mark got a purple-flavor.

My bag (containing my wallet, keys, work clothes, Lauren's ipod, and probably someone's soul) got stolen.

Jarret and I scaled my fire escape, and in the midst of a fairly hot moment later on in that evening, the police decided to scale my fire escape, too. There's something creepy about the police looking into your room.

The neighbors, one a city planner, both under twenty nine, bought me a bottle of wine in apology for callin' the police on me.

Sacha's friend recognizes me at work. Calls her on the phone. We talk, and return to one another's life.

Phoenix and I actively speak more, returning in a friendly capacity to one another's life. He has a fantastic boy in, of all places, harrisburg.

Krista came down, went home when I didn't answer my phone (the night my bag was stolen), realized her err and came back down.

Paid to have new keys cut by a locksmith for my car. $200.

Krista and I have a fan-fucking-tastic couple of days runnin' the city for all its worth. We never make it to Haine's Point.

Jackie, Sacha and I reunite for two-day party. As it should be.

My wallet arrive in my parent's mail. The $120 that was in it is not there any longer, but my ID is. I no longer have to relive my pre-21 adventures. Also attached are my keys, negating the $200 spent on keys.

Lauren and Jess come to an end. Lauren comes to stay with me.

My CD player is stolen out of my car.

The people who sent me my wallet (the Washington Metro Area Lost and Found) do not have lauren's ipod, my bag, or anything that would have been with my wallet.

My savings have been thorougly drained.

Sacha finds in the newspaper an ad to drive some man's car to Tampa on the 25th of June. Will pay return air fare home. Blocks begin to be put into place for a spur of the moment to trip to Tampa.

My apartment is still fabulous.

I developed a fake crush on Jenny Lee's roomate, Alex (he's cute!).

Jenny Lee, Alex, and I go dancing. I develop a not-so-fake crush on Alex. He can discuss Oprah's effects on middle america. Applicable pop culture? Swoon.

Saw "De-Lovely" with Sacha. I'm imagining a vauge obsession with Cole Porter rising from this viewing for both Sacha and I.

I'm going back to the gym today.

You are a GRAMMAR GOD!


If your mission in life is not already to
preserve the English tongue, it should be.
Congratulations and thank you!


How grammatically sound are you?
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So, now that that's out of the way, lets talk for a moment about exams... they're over. 'Nuff said.

What, did you say something about apartments! I need one. I think I found one. 14th and P. Above the Mid City Market. 15 foot ceilings. The windows are taller than I am.

Oh, and I got mentioned in the GOP USA newsletter and the Huntington News. Go read and then look here. The pink shirt was actually one for Planned Parenthood, and the sign I attached to the boy's staff said "77% of those legislating your reproductive rights are men. 100% of them can't get pregnant. Then I put a sign in the mom and the dad's hand. I only held the boy scout's hand for like a minute. Lovely yellow journalism.

Booyakasha.

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.

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.

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.

I totally enjoyed my weekend.

Friday night, Dan, Nicki, Creech, Sara, and I went to the Jew Frat's party-- I ran into a friend of mine from freshman year, Ricky, who is actually now the roomate of Nicki's bastard ex boyfriend. The ex is named Tim. He's a douche. That's all I have to say about him.

I beat the party record for keg-standing, at 19 seconds. Not a personal best, but enough to leave with a smile. I also drank jungle juice for the very first time; I thought well of it. Yum!

Afterwards we went to Ike's Diner for foooood. Ike's is the new on campus late-night-till-4-am dive that takes meal plans. The line was insane, so we dipped after waiting nearly half an hour. On the walk, I casually threw-up, and kept walking. The group was a little surprised at how non-chalantly someone can just vomit and walk... Ahh well, the joys of stomach muscles.

Saturday I went into the city to play with Lauren and Jess at Apex (it was lesbian night!). Dan and Creech metro-d in, and we met up with Jackie, too. Sooo much fun. I smuggled a bottle of Jim Beam into the club... in my crotch. For the record, it was a handle of Jim, too. We hid the bottle in the bathroom at one point, and then just decided to leave it in jackie's purse. We took swigs of it every now and then in between dancing with trannies.

Okay, so maybe it was just Jackie and I dancing with the trannie, but she was like 50, and resembled a female snoopy. And she kept making eyes at me, so I decided to be awful. Booty-grinding She-Male Snoopy with your curly-haired partner in crime, while chugging a bottle of Crotch Beam, is a moment that can only happen at Apex.

Creech, Dan, and I went back to Jackies and partied more. Jackie and I were troops, finished off the handle, and taunted each other over a couple a' rounds of pool. A good time.

Jackie's trip to NY was post-poned until today, so as it turns out, I'm still gonna diddy-bop up. Jess, Lauren and I are catching the mornin' bus up to NY and meeting up with Jackie then. We're gonna come back Wednesday night, and I'm gonna head on home.

I haven't been home in forever, I'm lookin' forward to it. I'm hoping I can work on Friday before going down to Blacksburg on Saturday. What on earth is in Blacksburg, a mountain town nearly 5 hours from here? Suzanne Dove, who I'm going to tickle, hug, and inebriate for her 21st.

I'll need to leave for Blacksburg at like 7am to be there by noon, and then I'm gonna have to leave Sunday morning at like 10 to be back in the city in time for work on Sunday night. I'm lookin' at only getting a couple of hours of sleep this weekend 😛

Thats okay, busy's good.

As it turns out, Nikki, Dan's good friend, turns 21 on May 20. We're talking about having a combined party... Lord knows where we'll have it. I should talk to maybe Michelle, Suzanne, and JC. See if they'd throw me a 21st birthday party. Hmmm...

Who knows, who knows. Anywho, I gotta go write a paper before I get ready for New York. Yay!

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.

I made a friend today in my Comm 301 class. She's quite spiffy, her name's Emily, and she said I reminded her of one of her friends.

Comm 301 is interpersonal communications, and today we were talking about the different roles we fill, as well what roles we look for our potential mates to fill. She and I had a wonderful time ex-bashing.

Well, I asked her to introduce me to the aforementioned friend, and we ended up walking right into him when we got outta class. His name's Dan, and he's cute. I think I've seen him around before, but I'm not super sure. He looked pleased enough to make my acquantance, but who knows.

Do I even like boys again? Again, who knows.

I know that I think this boy in my Comm 380 class is worth a second look. He's a smarty who dresses well and I like that his responses in class always make me think a little. Via note-sending (how 8th grade am I?) with my friend Lauren, we've decided that its a 50/50 shot if he's gay or not. We've made and held eye contact a few times, but nothing more. I thought he winked, but lord knows, it could have been something in his eye.

Thats my luck.

"Attraction is the aggressive, sensual moment, independent of drama, that attacks or shocks the spectator into an awareness or emotion." -- Sergei Eisenstein

Word.

The weekend wrapped itself up nicely, and that did nothing but lead to Monday classes. Things are goin' how they should be, so no worries gentle journal... though, one prof is worthy of mention today. Her name is Dr. Sparks, and blonde, tall, power-suited sexy-fierce chica that comes complete with a winnning smile and a vicious glare. Only the former has been fixed in my general direction, but for more reasons than just the latter her class may go down as the "Comm that Made Men Cry." Its a research methods course where the fail rate is almost the same as the actual passing rate.

Fear.

Little rumblings of better judgement be damned, I'm ready for it. Sometimes you get surprised: in a class of 250, one of my friends from Freshman year spotted me; Kumbi, ganked the seat next to me. She makes the wole class less intimidating... shes totally my african goddess. Imagine a study buddy who can dance like the wind, has mini dreads, leather earrings, and will kick your ass if you don't know the answer to question 47-C. That's my Kumbi.

I had plans with Ashley after we both got out of our classes, and seein' as how I was a little early, 6:50 instead of 7:10, I just stuck my head into her dorm and waited... then procced to wait and wait some more. I trusted in her to remember me, she's the type of girl that doesn't forget about appointments with folk, but it was starting to get a little later. 7:45 rolls around, and the dorm door flies up, with her bounding in shocked as hell to find a Mike in her house.

"I called your phone-- its off; I thought you forgot our plans!"
"Nope, been waiting here."
"Get your shoes on and get outside then, bitch!"

Who was out there? Lindsey and Omar! Ashley came back to her room because she had a strange gnaw in her gut-- I guess that was me gnawing! Lindsey came up to surprise folk, and Ashley dipped out on her class. Omar arrived in tow, with the announcement that Omar and Lindsey had decided to rekindle their relationship!

They may not get invitations to "Down With Love"-- but I'm really excited for them. I like the two of them together.

Such a fantastic evening commenced, filled with laughter, smokin', old jokes and new... su-fuckin'-perb. We go to get dinner and who should we run into at The JC but Puja, her old roomie Noukla, our friend May, Carriell, Carriell's roomie (and Dave's friend) Liz, and a host of their assorted friends. Huge reunion again.

Kismet. Unconditional Love.

w00t.

That night I slept at Carriel's, cuddled up, and Carriel taught me how to wrap my hair before bed. I can make the cutest little wrap now! Hehe! Just ya'll wait, you're gonna see me runnin' around with my lil scarf all tied up and talkin' bout my wrap... I can't wait.

Anywho, got up and drove to work, and did about 10 hours on the floor. Made just under 90, but had to give about 30 of it away for the Host/Hostess and for the 20 bucks I borrowed for shoes. Either way, its nice to have a few bones in my wallet again.

Work flew by, except for my last party of 6, which were old renn fair folk, so they tipped well, but ran the shit outta me. I told them I used to work their which may explain both the runnin' and the good tip. Le Shrug.

Speaking of work, I'm getting less shy around Dominick. Our friend Pam is heading to Colorodo for two weeks, and when Dom heard he looks at me and goes "You're stickin' around, right?" "Of course!" "Good-- someone I like'll still be here."

Look-at-me-now-mutha-fuckah! We've progressed into chatting about cars, conditions, cunts, and cuties. In a word, w00t. I still have a silly-stupid crush on the boy, but wordy-mc-word, I'm happy that he digs me and that I'm not just some quivering jello mold around him... just picture the floating fruit, and you'll know how incapacitated I felt around 'em. I don't know why it feels like a big accomplishment to get a boy to laugh, but it does/did. I'm not even interested in him in a sexual capacity, I know he's taken, but still, 'complishment stands. Now that I've loosened up, bein' shy was kinda momentarily neat.

Who knew I could get clamy?! ::grin::

I got to chat with Ashley about boys and their effects, including my silly crush on Dominick, and I got reassurance that for all the steps and stages I'm going through, she has as well, and that they're normal, cute, and healthy. I love Ash.

I was so tired when I got home (was it the 10 hours, or the boy?) that I kinda just tucked myself into bed around 11, and called it a day. Who am I, goin' to bed at 11? Ew.

Ahhh well, wash-rinse-repeat, I guess, 'cause here I go, gettin' back on the road to head to school again.

Since I'm about to trek back out into the snow to make my way up to Mason, I thought I'd share a moment from yesterday.

I used to play football with a guy named Duron; Duron's about 6'2, 280lbs, and a total powerhouse. He was a senior when I was a sophmore, and I eventually took his spot on the team. Imagine a thugged out Ruben Studdard, and we're getting closer to the picture.

He's got a lovely fiance who I've known for quite a few years named Patrice. Patrice was my "special buddy buddy," we were partners in the most random little food adventures together for a couple of years... she's great!

Well, she arrived in early to work to drop off Duron yesterday, and proceeded to tell Jess, Brandi, and me how she learned to "drift" last night. She and Duron went out to the closest empty parking spot, picked up some speed, and then yanked the e-brake. You spin around a few times, wash, rinse, repeat.

It's a lot of fun.

Well, she winked at me and ran to the back of the store, then returned with a set of keys. We ran over to Wawa, purchased our cigarettes, and then went driftin' for about 20 minutes. In Duron's little red eclipse! Hehehe.

When we got back in, Duron looked at Patrice and was like "Baby, why didn't you just walk."
"Honey, you know its cold, and you wouldn't want your boo gettin' cold spendin' too much time outside, now would you?"

HeeeHeee!

Anywho, I'm gonna trek my way up to Mason and have me a day.

Today was a lot of fun. I got to go to work today, which I honestly was really excited about. I started training at Friday's in Fredericksburg, and Pam, the shift leader, is doing the training. I LOVE Pam! Becky used to call her Momma Friday's, and its soooo true. She's really the only person workin' in the front of the house from when I was originally employed there.

However, as of today, thats no longer completely true. They fired the GM that was there when I went in last week for sexual harrassment, and brought in a new one today. His name is Jay, and he was the FOH manager when I started at Friday's. Weird, huh? So, thats two more GMs in my tenure there, for a total of five. Crazy.

I also got my hair cut today, and I'm tickled with the results, as I got a Central Park discount which brought my grand total to only a 7.95. Its the best haircut I've had in ages, too.

On the way home it was sleeting and gross, but I made it all the way into Colonial Beach before trouble arose. Only in Colonial Beach do people stop in the middle of the street and gab from truck to truck. I'm not sure what sort of inbred mentality they have that in the middle of a fucking ice storm its a good idea to stop and chat, but it landed me in a ditch. In what was surely an act of charity, they proceeded to roll up there windows and drive away as I got out of my Blazer. Bastards.

Before I could hate humanity entirely after this, the guy who's yard I landed in came out and helped me dig my truck out of the ditch, and his neighbor brought over a bright flashlight so that we could find something to attach the tow cable to-- the guy had a 4x4 and pulled me outta the ditch. No damage to me or to my vehicle.

They've not announced yet whether or not I'll have class tomorrow, but I reckon not. Eitehr way, I'm getting up at 8am to find out; I wanna be in Fairfax fairly early tomorrow if I have to go at all.

Krista and I gabbed a bit today, and we've decided she's coming down Valentine's Day weekend, and we're going to have a "Down With Love" party, complete with 60's theme. She convinced me into the theme, but it lets me go get the pair of cute-cute Chanel glasses I wanted.

Yay!

Some interesting news today:

Adderol/Ritalin, Study Drugs? Clearly.

Cheney's Allowed to Make Judges Partial.

So we send him to try to con the pope.

And finally, some good news: Virginia Introduces Bill to Open Liquor Stores on Sunday! Yay!

What a great lazy day!

I woke up at like 8am and took a morning bath that lasted about an hour; a hot bath first thing in the morning has very similar qualities to a wake-and-bake, I think its safe to say. Should either occur, the rest of the day will be spent relaxing, eating, and ultimatly enjoyed.

Now, don't get me wrong... adventures can occur, the adventure rating just gets graded on a curve-- I went to the gas station, and that takes about a 1/2 hour to do around here, and that definatly constituted an adventure! I hit up rite-aid today to see if they had any 5-HTP, but alas, they don't. So, I spent another half hour just playing in their vitamins section, seeing all the different goodnesses I could promote. Such a stoner moment.

Thats okay, today was certaintly a pleasent one.

Oh, and randomness strikes again. Puja and Carriel decided to go to a little party with (get ready) Carriel's suitemate's friend. Who is Dave.

They also met his boyfriend, Chris. I forgot how great the Triumvarate was. Anyone can be triangulated, and I found Chris's boyfriend without even knowing to envoke the power. Word. They came back with the right responses-- chris is a nice guy. Thats important. They also came back with things that made me smile for purely selfish reasons. Word, twice.

Yah, good day. Now all I'm wondering about is if I should run up to the school today, or stick around here and wait out the snow. I can get things accomplished tomorrow if I go up, school or no. I may go up tonight and call it a draw.

A gem, from Puja: "Wife who put husband in doghouse soon find him in cathouse."

Word, Hat Trick.

Grumble, grumble.

I need to get lean. I need to get myself going to the gym regularly. I'm frustrated with myself doublely today, and its my own fault.

Thats the term used to describe what I was when I was bein' a hot-mess in the city, at least according to a couple of people. I was lean then, and now I'm "still cute", but not as cute as I was "when [I] was lean." I have this stupid complex already, and I realize its outta hand.

Krista has made her case thorougly-- she's been pushing for me to get off my weight-loss issues and move on to the gym. Get lean, get toned. She's right-- I'm not 300lbs anymore, and I can't keep yo-yoing these last 15lbs. I've fought with them for more than a few oscillations.

I have the campus gym for when I'm there, and Mom has suggested I start going to the Pumphouse right here in town, as it has a tanning bed to boot.

I'm going to be working at TGIFriday's starting on Tuesday, and I get to be excited about that. I'm also more than a 'lil excited at the notion of reclaiming my cell phone from UPS. I can't wait to have her back. I miss my phone.

I'm being a fussbudget right now, and I know why. I was hooking up with a guy named Chris for a while this Summer, I guess it was earlier on while I was still at Peace Action, so about May-ish. Chris was a nice guy, but he was about as on the ball as a brick. He also was a crazy substance abuser and got kicked out of his frat/school for being such. He wasn't out, he was a nice guy, but fairly low calibur.

I see him online today, and I said hello, and he told me that he had seen my name on his boyfriend's buddy list. I was of course intrigued, so I asked who is boyfriend was.

He said Dan.

Do I even know a Dan? I think I do, but I can't for the life of me pull the memory of where from. I'm bothered by this for a lot of reasons... argh.

Part of me also believes that this is the boy who is dating Dave, and that he typed the wrong name. I'm going to be more than a little irritated if he is dating Dave and said Dan, but whatever.

I told Dave that I wanted to ask him out to a real date the last time we were together, but I would have felt like a creep doing it after coming up to help him deal with a break-up. Thats just a little skuzzy in my book... but I did tell him that I had the thoughts of asking him out, and that I knew these were things that were wrong to tell a boy who was dating someone else.

Dave said that if he left his boyfriend, he wouldn't hold any feelings towards him. I don't know how to react to that.

Tomorrow I'm gonna go by the Pumphouse and see whats what. Aside from wanting to start lifting, and I would desperately like to go for a run... nothing cleanses my soul like a good run. I just can't go in the cold, its too hard on my lungs.

Its also almost time for my checkup, and I've got anxieties this time around. I reckon I'm gonna go pay the money on campus and see what happens. I can't let fear get to me, I just need to go get a clean bill of health and be done with it. I'm just scared of big red marks this time.

I so don't like that fear. It gets in the way of things. All the more reason to go and have it dispelled.

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.

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!

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.

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.

The family, meaning mom and dad, woke me up around 9 in the morning... those poor souls. I was so cranky this morning, and retardedly moody. Its so funny, 'cause by and large my moodiness is unnoticable. To those that have seen the force-of-nature that it can be though, they'd laugh at the very insinuation that I'm anything less than volitle.

They also, I hope, would agree that they are the closest people to me, and the fact that they see Hurricane Mike at all is a testament. But whatever. I'm a pineapple.

My friend lauren came up with the notion that we should make Fruit ID Cards for all of the queers at Cosi South, just in case anyone questioned that we were fruits. I would be a pineapple; sweet to the taste, bright, vibrantly yellow... kinda cute, but definatly spiny to the touch sometimes. Also terribly acidic, but you never quite notice how acidc cause of the sweet.

Sweet Sweet Sweet.

But, yeah, it was definatly a spiney day... My poor folks, they had to deal with my unidentifiable ire when speaking with me. I apologized profusely, telling them that I know that I'm not the most pleasent person in the world right now, and they understood. Its just really hard to explain why I was crying at christmas.

Frankly, for someone who has been dubbed beligerently chipper, I've done a fabulous job of being a little raincloud on christmas. I didn't ruin christmas for anyone though, I self-medicated myself via sleep all the way up from my folks' to Jersey. Can't be a crab all day =P

I knew I had to let something inside myself play with these emotions, cause I wasn't winning. I just kept thinking that I never got around to giving either Trev or Emily their presents from last christmas, and now neither of them would ever get a gift from me again. Gawd, how fucking melodramatic.

*crab pinch pinch*

Trev's not dead of course, but to a boy who's clearly being a nutball, thats hard to explain. Blasted ex-boyfriends... I was thinking about him that I fell sound asleep in the back of the car for the 4 1/2 hour drive, and when mom woke me up ('cause we were getting close) I was positively chipper. Grinning from ear to ear as a matter of fact =)

Yay! Declawed!

I'm sure as hell glad I was grinning when I got here, too, cause I love my family. I hadn't been in rare form with them in a while... I missed the family reunion, then I dropped off the face of the earth for those couple of months... and I still wasn't 100% at thanksgiving. I feel a lot closer to it, moreso than I have since Em kicked, and that makes me feel great. My cousins and I have these fucking barrel laugh sessions that I have with few others. Those consistant, big, huge moments of connection that make it hard to breath from laughing.

That bein' said, I'm all the more excited cause the whole Bailey Crew is a'comin' to DC for new years. My girl Kelly has these friends who are renting out the top of a club in Adams Morgan, Bossa, and we're going. Krista, Charese, Tabby, Aric, Aric's Girlie Girl Tara, and maybe if I can find a way, Mara.

But, thats a pipedream. I haven't even talked to her about it... but gahdamn gahdamn, wouldn't that be some fun shit?