|
|
| <|newest| |older| |previous| |next| |profile|> | <|note| |email| |rings| |guestbook| |layout| |host|> |
|
<|2002-07-18| |4:05 p.m.|> <|Invasion Of The Diarylanders|>
So I'm being all rude to my friend Nurse L, and monopolizing her computer/phone line for awhile for a brief weekend update with Dennis Miller, though its not the weekend, and I'm not a hot middle-aged man with a wicked sense of humor and a shitload of money. Anyway, my trip thus far has been absolutely awesome, and my only complaints are coming in the form of whimpering voices in my head that I'm attributing to my liver-- sort of a "please, dear lord, make the constant stream of alcohol stop or I may have to put her in a coma soon". Yes, polishstreak has been behaving like a total fucking lush these days, and her elbow is in fabulous shape, even if her ass is steadily expanding. My trainer most certainly will be kicking that expanding ass of mine when I return to Louisville on Sunday. I'll share some tales of the drinking debauchery (and even some pictures of my 2nd night on the town, courtesy of Hissing Kat's digital camera) when I'm home and on my own computer again. Today? Today I just want to rehash a bit of yesterday's meeting with fellow diarylanders epiphany and goovie , which was a damn good time. I ended up dragging my buddy Cosmo Cover Girl along, after my bodyguard, um, I mean friend, Jerry realized that if he tagged along as we originally plannned, his mother would have been stranded at Dulles airport for several hours, and probably not all that pleased with her son. Anyway, Cosmo Cover Girl and I had the brainiac idea that we'd park down by ESPNZone, where an old friend (? perhaps I should be honest and just say a guy we both kind of hated in high school, but we enjoy seeing now because he's done nothing with his life, and we're bitches and think this is fucking funny) tends bar, so we could stop in before we left for home if we were so inclined. Well, in the air conditioned Avocado (that would be my Neon), we didn't really understand the extent of the Ozone Alert disgusting humid Maryland summer heat that day, and by the time we'd parked, and walked the million and a half blocks (ok, more like 8 or 9) from the Inner Harbor to Fleet Street in Fells Point, I was sweating like a sunbathing fat man, and in dire need of beer (despite the objection of my vocal and shriveling carcass of a liver), not to mention about twenty minutes late. Cosmo Cover Girl, of course, does not sweat (please tell me that everyone has one of these perfect type friends? And that its ok, despite the fact that we love them dearly, to hate their guts sometimes?), nor does she ever look an ounce less than perfect. Cure for both sweat and complete inferiority complex? Polish beer and a martini. Mmm... Anyway, we were late, but thankfully, so was everyone else. Epiphany brought along a buddy of his (who was a riot, and tried to pick up the entire bill, but that sort of weirded we chicas out, as, well, we don't know this guy from Adam, and though chivalry is cool, I don't think any of us wanted to be the mooches at the table...), and they were both decked out in softball uniforms, and may I add here for all the single gals who actually live in Baltimore that these two bachelors SO deserve your attention-- cute, funny, interesting people with actual personalities and real jobs-- two thumbs up for the lucky ladies who snag these winners. They are definitely cool people. We shot the shit for awhile, a bit of small talk, some smartass remarks about "happy ending massage" (Cosmo Cover girl is a masseuse), a lot of joking around with teaching stories (perhaps my favorite quote of the day was something to the effect of "There are only two kids in the class this summer, its not exactly like you can slink down in your chair, blend, and hope not to be called on...", which I so could relate to after my massive class of five during summer school), summer shenanigans, "good tasting" food being a similarly expressed sentiment to someone you "wouldn't kick out of bed", how punk rock bands handle copywright laws versus how dead authors might, etc. Two drinks and an appetizer later, Goovie shows up.... First impression of Goovie, my GOD, I'd kill for this girl's hair. She has, literally, the most beautiful head of hair I've ever seen in my life. She was very much like I pictured her-- kind of shy, very sweet, smarter than hell, and incredibly well-spoken. She was not in the most optimistic of moods, as she'd just been informed that her car was sort of hobbling along on the last of its peg legs (I know the feeling, hon... I feel the pain...sigh), and she ordered the galumpkis, which won major points, as that is one of the few foods containing red meat that I truly miss in life, and I love to watch other people eat it.... yeah, I know that sounds odd... I wish we'd had a chance to talk more, but from the hour or so we were all together, we had a great time. Anyway, the five of us finished our meal without getting kicked out or anything (wish I could say the same for the other places I've been this week... oh, did I just type that? Ignore me, please), and had to part ways-- the boys to their softball game, and the girls to their homes (or in my case, the random couch I was crashing on). We were invited to go watch the softball game, which was tempting, but I think we'd all had very long days, and just couldn't handle a late night (or perhaps I'm projecting here-- I couldn't handle another late night, nor could my liver-- I hung out that night with my mother and her post-menopausal women friends, watching them drink box wine and talking with Leon on the phone). I wish I was going to be in town longer so that we'd actually be able to hang out properly (i.e. a true bar crawling evening, complete with karaoke, or at least foozball or a concert or air hockey or something), but, alas, time is a hot commodity these days. Anyway, I'd say the evening was successful, overall-- I had a good time, and I think everyone else did as well. If either of you two are ever in Louisville, feel free to stop in at Club Polishstreak. Time to go be social, hang with some old friends, and battle once again with the liver. Until the vacation is over, polishstreak
|