On Mayor McCheese's Secret Service.
Wednesday night turned out to be more fun that I had expected. I had a key lime martini on lunch and it kicked my ass for the rest of the day. When I got home from work I passed out for about two hours and was in no mood to drink anymore or even be conscious. But, far be it for me to break a tradition. So Rockwell and I met up for a quick dinner at IHOP before hitting the strip.
We had this waitress there; she was super nice and I felt bad even making fun of her. But, there was something so mannish about her. Not really in appearance, but in presence. I couldn't put my finger on it. We were quite amused when we got the bill and saw her name on it: Hether. Which turned into "He There".... I guess you had to be there.
We started at North End, hit Bobby Love's next...which didn't smell half as bad as it used to. Then off to Hydrate with it's brainless beauties. Then it was Buck's, which I'd never been to. That place smelled pretty bad and all the animal heads mounted to the walls disturbed me. I guess I thought "Bucks" referred to the owner or something.
Next was Cocktail, which was fun as always. Some pretties in there including this lovely little twink with a huge nose and racing stripes down the side of his head. He was looking my way, I swear! We crossed to go to Roscoes, but the line was building by the second and it's never worth a wait to go in there. So we ended up at Gentry which I wasn't excited about at the time.
We walk in and the guy behind the piano immediately starts picking us apart for the small audience. It was all in good fun though as he did it to pretty much anyone that walked through the door, and it was quite funny. At a few points he went back around the room and recounted his comments and nicknames for everyone sitting around the bar.
At the end of the evening somehow Rockwell and I had become flanked by two older gentlemen. His looked a bit like an ancient Max Headroom and was talking about how much he loved turkey and was going to be cooking a whole bird for himself for Thanksgiving. My guy, who had more of a "creepy old guy" vibe told me how he has "no one left" so he'd be spending the holiday at his Indian friend's house in the burbs.
Somehow or another, we discovered that we had the same birthday (if he was even telling the truth). Gemini on Taurus cusp. This immediately made him want to shove his tongue down my throat and I pushed him off about three times before Rockwell swooped in and saved me. I got home around 2:30 and through some mercy I was able to pass out by three.
Up at 6:30 to be out the door by 7:30 to be on the Metra by 8:30 to be at my parents by 9:30. I was totally nauseous and exhausted. There were many cute boys waiting at the station, but none of them sat in my car. I blogged a whole entry on the train, but the "save" option on iJournal doesn't really "save" shit so when I booted up at my folks, it was gone.
My sister showed up by 11:00, had a wine cooler by 11:30 and had already gone through the newspaper looking for gift ideas. My mom was talking about lists by dinner (at 2:00). Then my sister wanted to know what I wanted. I hate Xmas. It's such a fucking sham. I'd rather get nothing than some obligatory token. Needless to say, if I don't have a list to my mom by the end of today, she'll probably drive to the city and guilt trip me. It's not really worth the effort to fight it. Even my therapist told me I should just let her do what makes her happy. Is everyone shallow?
I didn't go to bed until midnight last night, cursing this place out the whole time. Because, yes.. I am at work. I was the only person on the El platform this morning. I wanted to cry. Quite literally. The exhaustion from the past 36 hours is really getting to me and I feel my brain all oozy.
The rumor is already going around that we are "getting out early". "Early" being 3:30. Seeing as I usually leave at 4:00, it's really not early to me. And my friends in accounting can't leave until they finish the stuff they are waiting on from the enormous cow cunts over in payroll. And they will intentionally NOT finish their shit until the last minute. Then, most probably next Friday, the whole payroll department will get to leave at noon because they "worked through the whole day today" but no one else will be told about this or be given the option.
I'd like to take this minute to give thanks to all the people who helped me get a job here. It's really turned out to be more than I'd ever expected. I mean, I never expected that I'd MISS Dearest and the Circus. But, I'll be damned if I don't today.
I am not much in the mood to whine though. I am too busy feeling my stomach turn inside out from the Pepsi I had for breakfast. Seeing as my dad pointed out my gut yesterday at dinner, I have to do something about my diet and exercise immediately. I can't go to New Orleans a fat ass. Well, I don't want to live as a fat ass period. Maybe I can somehow incorporate something healthy and motivating into the Xmas shit I don't want my mother buying me. Turn a frown into a profit.
Seriously. Am I the only person at work today? My parents are putting up their Xmas shit today, and if my dad has a heart attack lugging the two tons of shit out of the crawlspace, I will gut the Mafioso in his chair. Then I'll hunt down the Bitches of Eastwick and put their heads on spikes. Merry Fucking Holidays.
We had this waitress there; she was super nice and I felt bad even making fun of her. But, there was something so mannish about her. Not really in appearance, but in presence. I couldn't put my finger on it. We were quite amused when we got the bill and saw her name on it: Hether. Which turned into "He There".... I guess you had to be there.
We started at North End, hit Bobby Love's next...which didn't smell half as bad as it used to. Then off to Hydrate with it's brainless beauties. Then it was Buck's, which I'd never been to. That place smelled pretty bad and all the animal heads mounted to the walls disturbed me. I guess I thought "Bucks" referred to the owner or something.
Next was Cocktail, which was fun as always. Some pretties in there including this lovely little twink with a huge nose and racing stripes down the side of his head. He was looking my way, I swear! We crossed to go to Roscoes, but the line was building by the second and it's never worth a wait to go in there. So we ended up at Gentry which I wasn't excited about at the time.
We walk in and the guy behind the piano immediately starts picking us apart for the small audience. It was all in good fun though as he did it to pretty much anyone that walked through the door, and it was quite funny. At a few points he went back around the room and recounted his comments and nicknames for everyone sitting around the bar.
At the end of the evening somehow Rockwell and I had become flanked by two older gentlemen. His looked a bit like an ancient Max Headroom and was talking about how much he loved turkey and was going to be cooking a whole bird for himself for Thanksgiving. My guy, who had more of a "creepy old guy" vibe told me how he has "no one left" so he'd be spending the holiday at his Indian friend's house in the burbs.
Somehow or another, we discovered that we had the same birthday (if he was even telling the truth). Gemini on Taurus cusp. This immediately made him want to shove his tongue down my throat and I pushed him off about three times before Rockwell swooped in and saved me. I got home around 2:30 and through some mercy I was able to pass out by three.
Up at 6:30 to be out the door by 7:30 to be on the Metra by 8:30 to be at my parents by 9:30. I was totally nauseous and exhausted. There were many cute boys waiting at the station, but none of them sat in my car. I blogged a whole entry on the train, but the "save" option on iJournal doesn't really "save" shit so when I booted up at my folks, it was gone.
My sister showed up by 11:00, had a wine cooler by 11:30 and had already gone through the newspaper looking for gift ideas. My mom was talking about lists by dinner (at 2:00). Then my sister wanted to know what I wanted. I hate Xmas. It's such a fucking sham. I'd rather get nothing than some obligatory token. Needless to say, if I don't have a list to my mom by the end of today, she'll probably drive to the city and guilt trip me. It's not really worth the effort to fight it. Even my therapist told me I should just let her do what makes her happy. Is everyone shallow?
I didn't go to bed until midnight last night, cursing this place out the whole time. Because, yes.. I am at work. I was the only person on the El platform this morning. I wanted to cry. Quite literally. The exhaustion from the past 36 hours is really getting to me and I feel my brain all oozy.
The rumor is already going around that we are "getting out early". "Early" being 3:30. Seeing as I usually leave at 4:00, it's really not early to me. And my friends in accounting can't leave until they finish the stuff they are waiting on from the enormous cow cunts over in payroll. And they will intentionally NOT finish their shit until the last minute. Then, most probably next Friday, the whole payroll department will get to leave at noon because they "worked through the whole day today" but no one else will be told about this or be given the option.
I'd like to take this minute to give thanks to all the people who helped me get a job here. It's really turned out to be more than I'd ever expected. I mean, I never expected that I'd MISS Dearest and the Circus. But, I'll be damned if I don't today.
I am not much in the mood to whine though. I am too busy feeling my stomach turn inside out from the Pepsi I had for breakfast. Seeing as my dad pointed out my gut yesterday at dinner, I have to do something about my diet and exercise immediately. I can't go to New Orleans a fat ass. Well, I don't want to live as a fat ass period. Maybe I can somehow incorporate something healthy and motivating into the Xmas shit I don't want my mother buying me. Turn a frown into a profit.
Seriously. Am I the only person at work today? My parents are putting up their Xmas shit today, and if my dad has a heart attack lugging the two tons of shit out of the crawlspace, I will gut the Mafioso in his chair. Then I'll hunt down the Bitches of Eastwick and put their heads on spikes. Merry Fucking Holidays.