but though i love it, i'm getting distracted from the real story. cause i didn't read long, i went right to bed, but the bass from upstairs, it was a-pounding. now i am very glad the guy with the cement shoes moved out and i don't have to hear him clomping across the ceiling all night long, but this was way too late, completely unacceptable. so i put my glasses back on and threw a flannel over my undershirt and penguinl petticoat, and stomped upstairs to meet hannah in 3W.
i banged and she opened the door. her boyfriend was behind her on the couch, turning down the music, but it was all blurry cause i was focused on her, because she is the hottest thing in the entire zip code. she's much taller than me, probably average height, she has a spiky black pixie cut with a red bandana in it, and a long thin nose, and very red lipstick which she was getting on her cigarette. she was wearing a black and white striped shirt and kept waving the smoke out of the way, and it bounced off the mirror in the vestabule, because of course she has the same apartment as me. i was all flustered, and was charming instead of angry. we introduced ourselves, she apologized for her loud music, i said if you could just turn down the bass, and we parted with nice to meet yous and apologies.
but what i really want to tell you about is friday. i started typing, but then wanted to add pictures, and flickr crashed this page and the above was all i was able to recover. thank goddess for "post wiederherstellen." i just wish it saved more. why does roatating pics on flickr, and opening pixie or fraulein n's blogs crash safari every time? i hate the idea that aol is the better browser on my computer! but back to waking up early again and getting stitches removed- again- at the oral surgeons. he says he has a question for me and i'm expecting something like, i saw you're a florist, how can i get my wife flowers for valentines day? but no. he says, "i don't want you to feel embarassed, but a collegue of mine here in the building does electrolysis..." i'm like, oh my goddess, it's grandma all over again. get me out of here as fast as i can! i am so glad i never ever have to see this guy again! all i say outloud is "um, it's not really my style." - but i say it very confidently, i think. what i wanted to say was, "um, my girlfriend LIKES my mustache." and since i'll never see him again, i should have. i told ch when i got to work, and he also thought the situation was horrid and my comeback was FABULOUS. so i feel sad i never used it.
so friday night activities. see, here's the deal with ch's party. he's been kinda stalking this really hot guy (brian) on friendster. and brian invited him to this great big party he's throwing for his flatmate gus's birthday. so ch was gonna take me but then michael called to invite ch on a date friday night. and ch said he was going to this party, and it turns out michael is real live friends with brian, not just cyber-aquaintances, so ch decided to go with him instead. so i decided it was my big last friday of the month chance to go to cinema lesbiana at the gerber hart. so i scrambled up some tofu (with onion and garlic and pepper and corn and spinach and cumin and chili powder- yum! so sad i had no black beans, though.) and was getting ready to go when ch called and said michael had the flu. he was wondering if he should go or not since he didn't know anyone, and i said absolutely, and so he asked me with again, and we made plans for after the movie.
i really don't wanna type about my cinema lesbiana experience. it was too painful. i was so awkward and uncomfortable. i was the youngest by about 10 years, and definately the hippest. stacy's always bitching about all the lesbians now being old and ugly, and well... i felt for her. the vibe was so wierd. it reminded me of church shopping, like this was my new sunday school class. i certainly didn't fit in, but they kind of have to like me because that's what they do. so they're polite to me, but there's all these other friends who they already know. and there's all these expectations and beliefs and shared vocabulary that they all have, that i don't, and i'm not even sure if i want...
it was not a good thing for my friday night. you know how i get friday nights. i was gonna be ok, i thought, cause i had activities, but this particular activity was NOT good for my sense of self worth. there was a discussion going on after the film- i should have sat near the door! i had to run out, stumbling over couches and folding chairs in the middle of the talking, while everyone looked on. it was awful.
so i took the red line 2 stops and met ch. i was pretty punky. i was really excited to go to a party with him. ch and i do parties really well together, i think. it's so strange to me when i'm depressed, how my interior self retreats farther inside of me, and yet my exterior self is even more extroverted- chatty and personable. perhaps i hate myself so much it makes me more interested in other people? i don't know. anyway- the party was huge- there were at least 100 people there. and they all looked like ch- big, tall, hairy. there were actually people there he'd met at his new online dating obsession, bear411.com. there were a few gangly guys, 5 or 6 other girls (one even brought a straight boy!), but mostly lots of beards and flannel. we got drinks, chatted with each other, and worked our way into the flow of the party. brian is apparently even hotter in real life than in digital images. we had the best time. everyone was so nice. (well, there was that really snarky drunk guy. but everyone but him was nice!) we spent most of our time sitting on the back steps, smoking and chatting with whoever was walking by or bumming off ch. some other memorable moments:
-waiting in line for the bathroom, i met james, who was oh, between 6'8" and 7 ft tall. (that's more the 2 meters, btw.) i came up to his elbow. he said to me, you're really tall! and i said to him you're really short! there was one girl wearing flats who was shorter than me, esp. because i had my hair up, but she left early and most people were taller than me if you COUNTED the hair.
-"chatting" with the deaf guys. they were good lip readers, and ch was good at understanding their gutteral speach. i smiled and nodded and made clever comments, but it's so hard to communicate- i definately wished german would have helped. i do know the alphabet, and that got us out of some jams. but this one guy, kept telling me i look like a b-e-l-m something- i could NOT get it. ch finally made the connection- BELMONT! and we laughed so hard. he thought i look like belmont. what a discription.
-jay covering my eyes when drew unbuckled his pants and showed off his prince albert piercing
-and the highlight for me- there was an air hockey table on the enclosed back porch! ch and i played! and i won! i expected him to clobber me, but it was neck and neck. until the end, 9 to 9, i scored my final goal and the croud went wild! i put my heeled boot up on top of the table by the puck and posed for my victory photo. courtesy of ch's camera phone:
conclusion- i was fabulous- they all loved me. they all complemented my tights, or my hair. they told me a red bandana stands for i like fisting. there was nothing better for my mood. ok, the vodka helped too. but they were a little in awe of my femininity. as ch said, "you have a bunch of dads and brothers and uncles there. you were the star of that party!" and i said, "we are superstars!"
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