Friday, March 03, 2006


First Fig

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends --
It gives a lovely light!

Edna St. Vincent Millay

That about sums up my Friday and the week in general. Work has been uneventful. I've been editing a fairly well-written personal Christian testimony-type memoir -- the semi-usual fare -- and have caught up on a couple of freelance projects (one proofreading; the other layout and design). My cow-orkers have been a tad snarky, but they're like that. I am the reed that bends in the wind. So blow.

Anyway, what has been draining is my fabulous single lifestyle of late. Last Friday I read with Joe and Nick Moore at Collins. Good times there. Then Saturday Joe and I went to Mardi Gras in Muncie, which was MUCH more fun than it sounds. In fact, it was rather debaucherous -- at least for me, as Joe and his buddies took to living vicariously through me, so I ended up doing all my own stunts (i.e., showing my privates to lesbians for beads; massive amounts of flirting with masked LARPing polyamorous ex-stripper librarians while their fianc├ęs looked on without a care; and of course, my first pro lap dance). I also drank much, and didn't I just say something about not drinking cheap beer? Yeah, I thought so.

Got to bed very late that night; then up and on the road ass-early to get to Mom and Dad's, do my taxes, laze a bit on the couch, and then off to Beef & Boards to celebrate my sister's birthday at Phantom, the superior (I'm told) version of Phantom of the Opera.

Monday was a day of rest, sort of: off work, some freelancing, and I went with my rental company's rep to view a few of their other properties. Shitholes one and all. Maybe I just need to get over the $515-a-month palace I'm in now. I'm not going to find anything like it. Period. Still, I know a shithole when I see one. And I saw three on Monday. Oh well.

I also on Monday rehearsed for a Bloomington Free Verse Poets performance later this month. That went very well, although there is some concern that the musicians are incongruous with the poetry. Eh. I'm easy.

Tuesday I was still ass-tired and looking forward to chilling on the couch that night, but then C e-mailed and asked if I was going to the Wild Raccoons Party Mardi at the Bird that night? Yeah, like I needed another celebration -- oh, okay, twist my arm. And it was truly awesome. Great music; excellent crowd; she bought me a bunch of beer, which I drank; and I flirted with this cute pseudo-Amish kindergarten teacher (not nearly as weird as it sounds). I told her I have a major Amish fetish (it's true!) and she actually asked me, "What's your sign?" Also hung with friends old and new, and C got a kick out of showing me off to some of her friends. "So what are your intentions here?" one of them asked me. "Uh, they're purely intentional!" says I. Good answer!

Home very, very late. Then up early (as usual) Wednesday morn, to work, and POING! shit! I have an appointment to give blood at the Red Cross at noon. sigh. Why am I so cursed never to shirk a responsibility?

Okay, fine. So they jammed a spike into my vein, downloaded my essence, loaded me up on Little Debbies and OJ, and sent me staggering back to work. The rest of the day simply floated by. Then I co-hosted an open mic, at which I read as if I were drunk, then home to sleep the sleep of the very sleepy. Unfortunately, it didn't really help.

Yesterday was good. Work: fine. Therapy: fine. Poker: 70 cents in the black! Woohoo! But then I decided to make a cocktail (roughly three fingers of vodka and Sprite) -- I mean it is poker, after all. BIG MISTAKE! I was still I think a touch dehydrated and worn out, and while the drink sat just fine, I was pretty out of it the rest of the night ... so of course, I go home, finish up a couple of freelance projects, and FORGET TO EAT.

Now, it specifically says in the blood donation literature not to skip any meals. sigh. I really ought not ignore things like that.

I get up this morning and feel like I was sleeping under the mattress: verrrry lathargic and way more hungover than I should be. So I double up on breakfast, saunter into work late (I've been somewhat tardy all week), drink extra coffee, and proceed with my day, including ORDERING COPIES OF MY BOOK, WHICH IS NOW AVAILABLE!!! More on that later.

Take it easy tonight, you say? Ha! As if! Friend's b-day party tonight, and it's sure to be a doozy. My ex will see me with C for the first time. I feel pretty bulletproof in that area, but it's a small house and ... well, who knows. I'm thinking good thoughts and breathing deeply. I'll hopefully catch a nap after work, I think. This weekend I shall lay somewhat low. bleah.