Glass

I'm listening to Philip Glass. I don't want to listen to anything else right now. I'm just in a mood today.

I recently returned to my house after having sat on a couch at Victoria's house for a good while, my stomach growling so loudly I was waiting for the pictures to fall off the walls. I came back home, decided that I didn't even want to LOOK at what was in the fridge, freezer, or pantry. There's nothing in this whole house to eat. I say that with the most confidence! Okay, so there's things. There are ingredients, but no FOOD. Everything would have to be cooked and mixed and prepared. In lieu of any substantial food "things," I'm drinking a Michelob Ultra for dinner.

I'll eat later, I promise, so just drop it, mmkay?

I swore to myself that today wouldn't be one of those days. You know the kind, the days off that you sleep through. I told myself I would wake up at a decent time and get something accomplished today, whether academic or not. LIAR. I woke up after ten but still before eleven. I got myself ready. I even did pilates on my bedroom floor for twenty whole minutes while listening to dance music. I then proceeded to meet up with Victoria. I went to her house. I did her makeup and hair. She did my hair. We sat around and watched videos on youtube, episodes from The Office, and listened to conversations coming from the mouths of her sister, sister's boyfriend, and her boyfriend. We never motivated ourselves to do anything. They left near five o'clock to go out for dinner for her sister's birthday. I went home.

I have had one cigarette today. It's not because I'm consciously trying to cut back, but rather I nearly transformed five fingers into icicles in the process earlier on this afternoon.

Last night was Saturday night. It surely was. I had plans to go to the popular homosexual dance establishment in Norfolk, but due to "poor weather," the group (meaning Ryan 2, my best male friend) decided we would just do our (me and Ryan 2) regular thing and go to our normal spot. Andrew (high school friend) met me at my house early on in the evening. He did come bearing gifts. One ice cold Red Bull. Thank heavens, I needed it. I showered and took entirely too long. I paid much detail to everything from facial hair grooming, to using my Paul Mitchell extra body, thickening, conditioner stuff that Dallas (best girl friend) gave to me for Christmas this year. Although I told Ryan that I would be requiring him to do my hair and face that night, I did the dirty work myself. I picked up Miranda after I left my house. The three of us headed up to Ryan and Rob's place. Everyone talked and waited for Rob to get out of the shower. I knew exactly how the situation would pan out. I even told Miranda in the car. I told her, "Look, this is what's going to happen. We're going to get to the bar (the backup plan), there's going to be no one there because of the snow, and Ryan's going to try to convince everyone to drive down to Norfolk." We arrived at Ryan's house and while waiting for Rob, Ryan said exactly that. He said he had second thoughts and wanted to go back to plan A. NOPE. I wasn't going to do it.

Background Information:

Ryan and I used to go to this big bar every Thursday and Saturday night. We never missed a single one. Ryan and I were anorexically thin at the time. We spent more time on doing our hair than most gay men spend out picking out a single outfit. We would walk in every Thursday and Saturday and walk straight back to the bathroom, hit the mirrors, and preen for at least five minutes. Ryan decided he couldn't do it anymore. He stopped going, found Rob, and lost touch with me for months. Since then, I have found the neighborhood bar and stick to it. The crowd is small most nights, and everyone knows each other. I am comfortable and don't feel like I have to do hair or face. I have since been drug out to the Wave twice. Both times were disasters. I walked away wishing I had never gone in both instances.

Back to this recap of last night. Cigarettes burned to the filters and eventually it was time for Ryan to take his turn in the shower. I flat ironed Rob's hair. I straightened it down over his right eye, just as Ryan 2 had requested. I put the pre-selected beanie on after having sprayed the extra-firm hold hair spray around Rob's entire head. It turned out damn good. NEXT. Miranda took the chair. I pulled out my bag of SEPHORA goodies from when I worked in cosmetics this past fall. I had been given many items from the company but only used them on rare occasion. Miranda was quickly finished. Ryan was done with his shower. It was pushing quarter to eleven. Brent called and asked if I'd be out. I told him we'd be there near eleven thirty. FORTY FIVE MINUTES. I was right. We didn't get there until eleven thirty. I finished up with Ryan and we flew out of the house.

The bar was pretty crowded. I came in, paid no cover of course (being a VIP customer does have its benefits). I moved towards the bar, shortly thereafter, the glass hit the formica counter top without having said a single word other than hello to the bartenders. I love it. Ryan 2 and Miranda sat at one end of the bar, filling two empty seats. Rob, Andrew, and myself found ourselves at the opposing end of the bar. Rob drank a washington apple and switched to madori sours for the rest of the evening. Miranda had energy drinks. Andrew had whisky I'm sure. Ryan and I always drink rum and diet (but sometimes Ryan will do royal flushes). Besides that, the evening progressed pretty smoothly. We talked a little trash, faked several smiles, but were pretty good people for most of the night. My ex-boyfriend showed up, which was expected. My ex-boyfriend showed up with my other ex-boyfriend (from middle school days) which was UNexpected. The child was immediately tattooed with black X's upon entering. It put a smile on my face. Ryan forced conversation with a secret enemy. There were group bathroom visits. These are normally limited to Ryan and myself, but Miranda was given an invite to one this time. We don't always relieve ourselves either. Sometimes it is more of a reason to go somewhere quieter to discuss more pressing issues. The most pressing issue of last night was that our leading lady (when I say lady in this instance, I refer to a drag queen) had called out and deserted her Saturday night show. The owner of the bar claims that she probably couldn't find her snow boots. Excuses, excuses. I hardly looked towards the stage all night. I met a local entrepreneur. I met one Karen who happens to own one restaurant nearby. It's doing very well. We talked briefly about business, travel, and her husband (who was not in attendance). Our conversation led to her offering to introduce me to an employee of hers. I already knew him. I had invited him casually up to a long weekend beach trip in Duck with my family. He would have met me down there and spent a day or two hanging out had he come. He ignored my phone calls the day of, and left a very sour taste in my mouth by doing so. I may say "Hi," but with him, that's where it has stopped ever since. Last night, he wanted to talk. He smiled, I was brief, but smiled back. I don't have time for games. All the young ones want is games, and I'm over it. I don't understand why anyone would play them. I can be guilty at times as well, there is no denying it. On the whole, I do tend to think on a different plane.

Miranda and Rob bought the breakfast buffet at 1:30 a.m. (suckers!). We waited for the buffet to be brought out, and as soon as the to-go boxes were filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits, the tabs were executed with the ink of cheap plastic pens. We left. We looked just as good leaving as we did walking in. I dropped off everyone and came home. We did hang out at Ryan's house briefly before doing so. I came home around 2:30 a.m. My parents were both awake reading in the den. I spoke with them, keeping as much composure as I could. I'm sure I smelled like a two week old ash tray. I left them, went to bed, and that was that. After reflecting on last night, it was pretty uneventful. Everyone left the bar happy. That's what counts I guess.

I'm sitting at home, beer bottle empty now.

Maybe I'll try to hunt down some real food.