Monday, November 10, 2003

For the record: I posted the previous entry when sober...

...but did not, in fact, spend the entire weekend sober. Yesterday I didn't do a thing, just laid around watching the I Love the 80s Strikes Back marathon on VH-1; it was kind of nice to veg out on that level, which I hadn't done in months. That happened at least in part because my computer has been at the doctor's; I get it back today, apparently back to speed and virus-free, yay! [Hopefully, this should mean I'll be posting new downloads tonight. Any ideas/requests? And, depending, I may be posting some Isabel pics, too, which I finally got back last week.]

9pm update: my computer's time at the doctor took longer - and more money - than expected, so she won't be back in my arms until Friday.

Saturday, however - Saturday was interesting. My coworker Anita invited us over to the new 3-story townhouse she and her on-again/off-again fiancé Donnie just moved into. B-Lo, Sirena and I came, along with B-Lo's fiancé Wes (one of the nicest rednecks you'll ever meet). Donnie was making scrimps (fried in cornmeal!), and I was drinking a deadly new drink from Bacardi, 151 Rum Long Island Iced Tea, which is just what you think it is: pre-mixed Long Islands topped off with 151. Whoa. Delicious and dangerous. So we were just hanging out, listening to music and talking and drinking and eating...

...when Wes, of all people, decided we should go the the Rainbow Cactus, the area's biggest gay bar. It turns out that an old friend of his works with Anita at her second job. This guy's second job is as a doorman/bouncer at the Cactus. So I suddenly was playing "tour guide" for this motley (but very fun) crew. They saw Jennifer Warner, who infamously can't keep "her" top on - the rationale is "if you'd paid this much for these tits, you'd show 'em off, too." That was a bit eye-opening for the gang (the guys couldn't believe Jennifer's breasts, and the girls were all "where is it tucked?!"). And then on top of that, I, rather well-soused by this point (I'd switched to Jack Daniels once we got to the bar), started dancing with Anita. And, yes, we had some PST, ladies and gents. For those coming late to our party, that's Public Shirtless Tom. I never, ever thought I'd find myself in a local gay bar, dancing to Beyoncé (that's the anthem, get ya damn hands up), grinding into the backside of a female coworker when she wasn't running her hands up and down my chest. Wowza. It was some evening.

Made it home about 2:30am. And some lesbian stole my Zippo which my baby sis gave me. Grrr. Spent a lot of time on the phone this weekend, too, particularly talking college pigskin and handicapping Pazz & Jop with him (coming back soon), talking '80s (and how hot we find Time's Joel Stein and his DSLs) with him, and listening to him clean his kitchen (more fun than you might think - really). My life is all too glamorous, yes, I know.

We'll miss ya, kiddo. Come back soon.

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