I limited myself to one drink. Proud of myself, especially for a Sunday.

Didn't stop me from spilling my guts to him, though. Damn the man.

The Newsweek thing is tomorrow. Story sent to Jaz tonight. All ready for my next big media blowout. Whee.

Shouldn't have told him about Magneto. Damn him. Both of them. All of them ( Read more... )

Rossi, you idiot. Was it really your own damn bullet? Sweet merciful Christ. Trust you to ( Read more... )

More than one way to break down a wall.

Back to sleep for me.

( 'Simple guy, simple pleasures.' [Rossi] [R for language, sensuality] )

"A long weekend," all right; and if, at the end of it, Sabitha's maybe smoking too much, I know I'm talking too much. Telling her about my dark days in college? What was I reacting to in her to get to thatTime for therapy, girl, or at least a good cry on an old friend's shoulder. I haven't seen Terry in a while, and Jaz owes me one, big-time, from ( Read more... )

And to think: Minnie has to do this kind of thing for a living. Moving from one party to the next, circulating and smiling and sipping tiny chill drinks and nibbling tiny chill snacks . . . Jesus wept. I'd go mad and take the butler hostage in exchange for a Big Mac and a plane ride to freedom ( Read more... )

A long day, but at least it got off to a good start, with a chance encounter at Grand Central Station with none other than Dr. John Grey himself, father of Jean and kindly professor on the loose. He was heading back on a commute away from some substitute gig in the city, anyway, and we ended up chatting about this and that over a very crowded ( Read more... )

I'm still thinking about Sabby coming over last night, after breaking up with Travis. (And, God be good, hooking up with Sebastian Shaw, like that was an image I wanted in my head until the day I die, Sabitha.) She was pretty broken up about it, but more broken up about what's going on in her head, and I can't blame her. She's under a lot of ( Read more... )

[OOC: continued from Part 1 because of log's size.]

( 'No, don't get up. I can see myself out.' [Sabitha, Travis, Rossi] [R for language] )

That did not go well for any one of us. At all.

( 'I never hated you' [Sabitha, Travis, Rossi] )

Oh, my Lord. My head. Wine and whiskey - no, no, no.

Like violence and sex. No. (No. Right? Not tonight, either? There wasn't any . . . oh, hell.)

I didn't say his name, right? I didn't say "Scott" or "Summers"? Didn't allude to herI don't think so. Good. Hurray for me. Drunken me. Hurray ( Read more... )