The Anatomy of a Rainy Weekend
Ok. Here's what you need to know about the past couple days in my life. In the spirit of Cliff's Notes, I will provide you with a skeletal outline that will get you a B on the test. But you'll have to talk to me if you want to make the honor roll (which, mind you, I never missed, not once, in high school).
1. I got dumped. At a bar. While drinking a Corona . This was the jist of it.
Z: I wish you had called me earlier.
Him: I think we should stop seeing eachother.
Z: Oh. [swig of Corona, crinkled nose, frown] Ok.
I am sad about it, not even that angry. I hope that comes soon. And like going to the gym, it always hurts worst the day after the day after. One of my resolutions for Anno Domini 2006 should be to stop getting attached to transients.
2. Breakup plus copious amounts of alcohol plus fiercely loyal friends equals a bad moon rising when your new ex shows up at the same bar that you do the next night. (I have a lot of friends that are just waiting for something to get mad about.) As you might expect, I handled it with the maturity of an 8 year old and at one point started yelling something about my law school transcript. After a 62.5% lesbian dance-off/catfight, my chances of having a good night were pretty much nil.
While being pushed around by an overweight man on the dancefloor, I yelled, "What the fuck is this, Celebrity Fit Club 3?" I wish it were. Who wouldn't? I think that Tempestt Bledsoe and Countess Vaughn totally would have thrown down for me.
Aforementioned zaftig man later, I kid you not, ended up falling ON me. So, yes, Karma, I am picking up what you're putting down. It was another lovely, cosmic example of how my mouth writes checks that my cute ass can't cash.
3. I watched a special about the 20th Anniversary of the Challenger explosion and reminisced about being there. That's right. While all my sorry ass friends were having to gather in the cafeteria to watch the explosion on tv, I was in Florida with my grandparents seeing it live. Growing up in the funeral home, I was already a morbid kid, but this put me into morbid overdrive.
We sat in a Chili's parking lot and looked east to catch a glimpse. We saw the smoky trail ascend and fissure. My grandfather told me after it that it was a sensitive topic and that I shouldn't discuss it with strangers (By this point, when I was 8 years old, they had given up trying to get me to stop talking to strangers altogether. They could only hope to limit me to inoffensive topics). Upon hearing his sage advice, I talked to basically anyone that would listen to me about it. The man I sat next to on the plane on the way home from Florida probably contemplated suicide.
There are actual pictures (which I need to find) with my younger brother and me smiling and waving to the camera while the shuttle exploded behind us. It's a visual metaphor for my childhood.
4. I celebrated Baby Jessica's wedding. She, 19, allegedly married her "small town sweetheart" who is currently 32. I am no math expert, but hmmm.
Upon her 25th birthday, she will receive the benefits from a trust fund from people CNN labeled inadvertently hysterically as well-wishers.
My parents, after reading this news, began work on a time-machine so that they could go backwards in time and throw me down a well when I was 2. My parents would love nothing more than for me to be married and funded at the moment. Plus, who doesn't love to throw babies down wells?
5. I saw the 40 Year Old Virgin and it wasn't as funny as I thought it would be.
6. I am continually surpised by the levels of sheer loserdom I encounter when I attend a free poker night at a bar. I did that last night. I am then not at all surprised to lose to all of these people. I also did that last night.
The amount of time they spend thinking about poker is staggering. And each of them has advice on how I could have played my hand better. They use poker terminology. And I am guessing they rarely have sex.
7. These are my favorite people in the entire world.