Andare, Partire, Tornare

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Drinking out of toilets *can* be rewarding!

So I arrived home Friday to find Bemo in a horrible mood. He had woken up with a headache that had dogged him all day, and roommate Zee wasn't helping by shrewing at him incessantly as if, as Bemo put it sourly, they were married. Granted, Bemo can be sluggish about getting things done, but getting progressively more shrill is *not* the way to get him to do anything. I've seen Zee get snappish with waiters and other people who were trying to do their job but weren't getting it done fast enough to please her, so I envision how obnoxious that would be directed at myself.

Anyhow, the party progressed. Zee's friends arrived, and I got to know a few of them a bit better. Most of them are a nice lot, and fun to hang around with, but when you have a large group of people who have known each other for ages and ages, it's difficult to be on the outskirts. And, despite the fact that I am a totally cool person(no, really!), I really have problems to relating to people who love sucking on whip-its (one chick went through three boxes of cartriges in about fifteen minutes), wear slave collars, and cover themselves in ugly tattoos. (attractive tattoos, I can understand.)

Luckily, friends of mine came along, like Cherbear (cleverly dressed as Frodo, complete with One Ring and Sting, and indeed she won the costume contest) and Persia, dressed as Person In Zee's Renaissance Dress And Not Too Happy About It. Bemo was a Metallica roadie, and I was a Man In Black, complete with silver memory eraser thingie. We also had a Dread Pirate Wesley, a Tooth Fairy (Zee, in an Aquafresh dress and a toothbrush in her cleavage), a guy with a nametag that read Hello, My Name Is Satan, and a few others who were in street clothes, although with this group street clothes run to platform doc martins and mesh shirts. Bemo got over his bad mood and had a good time with his friends and mine. Zee did not get nookie, although she could have (it was anticipated in the party planning) because her intended turned out to be a vastly immature, although nice enough boy. Anybody who gets drunk and ends up playing chicken with lit cigarettes pressed to flesh, so they wind up with huge, horrible, scabby nastiness on their wrists is not, in Zee's mind, an appropriate boff-partner. I must agree. Thankfully, nobody suggested playing chicken at this party. And speaking of nastiness, I have to relate the tale of Persia's Horrible Pustulating Boob Wound. Um. Maybe in another entry. But I got to see it during the party. Hi, Persia! Yes, it is horrible, and I think you need to find a way to give your doctor a seeping scrotum injury.

The punchbowl received its ceremonial *FLUSH* and everybody proceeded to get fairly trashed. I didn't, although the punch was lethal (apparently the addition of a hefty slug of Gatoraid to alcohol makes things VERY interesting) because I had to pick up Catherine, Zee's pooch, from my little sister, where she was hanging out so she wouldn't run wild at the party. I discovered later that Catherine, who is a spoiled and headstrong, though good-natured pooch, behaved badly and tried to EAT Boop's bunny Portia, so Boop will get an extra-special birthday present from me as thanks. My mom was a bit ticked off by the whole thing, but she can't get mad at me because I moved a dead squirrel from her side yard that evening. (He was a whopper, too. And all stiff, which made it easier - no leavings.) By the way, little sis just got inducted into National Honor Society, go Boop!

Ended up in bed at around two thirty am, and woke up the next day at around noon to go to Frederick, MD to visit my friend Chess, from Penn State. Got some good gossip from her, and a great dinner at a local tapas bar (I had goat cheese and almond fritters, YUM, and a chorizo on garlic mashed potatoes), and just basically had a blast. She's heading back to PSU tomorrow, and had agreed to carry up three Inter-Library Loan books back to the library so I wouldn't have to skid back up there to do it myself. Plus, we hope to arrange a PSU Old Home Week/Reunion Bonanza later on in January, with several people who have left State College coming back to party down.

Wow, long entry. I wonder what kind of google hits "Drinking out of toilet" will elicit? Or "kicking a squirrel?"

9:53 p.m. - 2002-01-05

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next

latest entry

about me

archives

notes

DiaryLand

Blogroll

random entry

other diaries:

caerula
dichroic
sometoast
mechaieh
weetabix
trancejen
unclebob
smartypants
clcassius
badsnake
bafleyanne
abendbrot
marn
batten
herworship
sundry
keryanna
idiot-milk
saint-louise
skim
ursamajor
goodsandwich
culotte
seussie
cariboutwo
tanisanne
madamepierce