11 40 pm pdt [ two days ]
Friday was a good day. My throat hurt, but I decided
to ignore it. I wore one of my favorite dresses -- the green velvet one
-- and some new shoes I bought at Payless the night before. Work
absolutely flew by with our Dim Sum excursion cutting into the day. There
was little for me to eat, but I didn't mind at all because I had only gone
for the social interaction, and one of my co-workers made a valiant effort
to find veggie food for me.
By four I couldn't keep my eyes open. I wasn't sure
how I was going to make it through the evening, but I was determined. I
didn't have anyone to go to the Groaning Mona show with me, so I
asked my co-worker Doyle.
Another of my co-workers could hear me sniffling, and
offered me some zinc bubble gum. It made me nauseous, but I managed to
keep my stomach calm with thoughts of the upcoming BBQ.
The BBQ was lovley, with scrumptious catered food
(baked potatoes, garlic bread, and two kinds of salad!). I planted myself
at a table with Doyle and we were shortly joined by two friendly web
developers. Eli was promoting bustop and Sean had a great accent.
Eli and Sean were so sweet, and I didn't have much
energy for shmoozing, so I didn't meet many other people. I scared Eli
away from the table by telling him how good looking he was (he was really
a cutey!). Doyle and I took off for the show while the BBQ was still in
full effect.
The Groaning Mona show was at Luna
Park, a club I loved when I first visited, and which I suggested as a
locale to hold our highschool prom. The ambiance there is great, and we
got in without a hitch, locating it by the dancing gorillas which I guess
accompany all Groaning Mona shows.
I cannot begin to describe how much I enjoyed the show.
The music was one thing, and the performance was a whole other. There
were skits interspersed with the songs that really made the event come
alive. Unforunately, the set was much to short, and they weren't allowed
to do an encore. I am really hoping to make the July 8th show at the
Roxy. I might even bring my
sister.
I danced, but couldn't convine Doyle to join me, and
wound up next to a completely uninhibited ten-year-old named TJ. He
cracked me up, and I told him what a good dancer he was. I referred to
him as my boyfriend for the rest of the night.
I got margaritas for Doyle and I, and we waited after
the show for Charles to emerge. He was such a darling (and an amazing
keyboard player!) and he invited us to join some of his other friends.
Eight of us huddled on stools around the smallest table imaginable.
Wendy, seated next to me, explained that she is turning thirty on
Wednesday, and she is going to jump out of a plane. The went on at length
about her hopes of being strapped to a hunk of a man, and I told her I'd
say a prayer for her. She said that even if her tandem partner wasn't a
stud, she was going to tell her friends he was. That really is the way to
go, isn't it?
Dyole then drove me back to the office, where I had
left my car. There were still cars in the lot, so we made are way to the
BBQ location to discover that a dozen party-goers were still in
attendance. As things were winding down, one of the programmers suggested
we visit the local bar -- the Snake Pit. Doyle and I joined Kimball,
Gram, and Doug for a drink and some riotous conversation. Then I
announced that it was past my bed time, and Doyle returned me to the
office. The parking lot was locked, with my car inside, but I did a
decent job of supressing my panic. I found that my office key worked on
the gate, and I had to assure myself (once again) that things always work
out for the best. I made my way home and stumbled into bed at two.
I, as a mojor idiot, forgot to turn off my alarm, and
was thus awoken at 7 45 to "You belong to the city..." Knowing the there
was a high probability of my mother calling and waking me up in the next
few hours [she sleeps from 9 30 pm to 4 30 am] I decided to call her and
let her know that I was going to catch up on sleep, and I would call her
when I woke up again. In the course of the conversation she said, "You
didn't hear what happened with your brother?!?" I knew it was something
bad.
He is on a summer program in Indiana doing work for the
American Red Cross. He is staying in a dorm at a local college, and was
swimming in a pool with a bunch of his friends, when one of them drown.
The boy who died was named Sam and would have been a Junior at Yale next
year. The news absolutely broke my heart, and I gave up on the idea of
going back to sleep. I dragged my congested body out of bed and planted
myself on the couch where I wept for the poor devestated parents and I
missed my brother terribly. Sam was his suitemate, and he will spend the
rest of his summer in a suite with an empty room.
When I was in sixth grade, a kid pushed me into a brick
wall (in the course of playing a game) and fractured my right wrist in
three places. It didn't hurt too much, and I had a lot of mobility still,
so I considered that it was probably broken, and I iced it up. I don't
think I went back to classes that day, and as I waited outside for my dad
to pick me up, everyone else left. My dad was an hour late. I held my
arm out awkwardy in front of me the whole time I waited, and when he
finally pulled up, he pointed to it with a questioning look and I burst
into tears. I hadn't know I was holding that sadness in, and then it all
came out like a flood. The same thing happened yesterday, and I let the
day slip by. I thought I was ok, and then when I talked to Matthew in the afternoon, I just
burst out sobbing and sobbing, and I could stop the flood of emotion, so I
just let it roll. My sweet man was so understanding. He actually enjoys
taking care of me.
Needless to say, Friday was wonderful, and Saturday was
not. My sickness has not gone away, despite my telling it to, so I have
spent most of father's day sleeping. I did manage to have dinner with my
dad (at Spumoni's), but I am
disappointed that none of my food tastes good. Hopefully I will be all
peachy keen by tomorrow, and hopefully I will get a chancce to talk to my
brother and see that he is ok. Tomorrow is his nineteenth birthday.
* * *
two years ago
today: "At seven this evening I will be on a plane to LA for my
brother's birthday and for Father's Day."
one year ago
today: "... some people in Brazil cloned a human embryo, and then
killed it at 12 days. I am surprised people aren't more up in arms about
this. Well, maybe they are, and I just don't know."
June 1998
June 1999
June 2000
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