It's Her Birthday 10/08/06
Work lets out early so I go across the street for some drinks with the work crew.
Jerrica buys me a frenet and ginger. Everyone is like "that is so San Francisco." It's like the theme for the weekend.
They quit it quick and head to Solstice for dinner, and I go back to the salon and call Rocco to figure out what we're doing.
I call Diabolical and get her husband, she's not even home yet so we're clearly not going to her birthday party for a while.
I head to Rocco's bro's house.
It's Rocco, his brother Mr., Mr.'s boyfriend Jo, their housemate, Nana, and Horse (Rocco's boyfriend).
We watch Donna Summer and Stevie Nick's playing music on the tv, then some VH1 clip show. I feel stupider everytime I watch one. This one is Awesomely Bad Best Week Ever Amazing Life of One Hit Wonders.
Awesome.
I take out my bandanas, Horse and Rocco each get one, and I'm psyched because they are psyched.
They take showers, I curl my eyelashes twice, apply mascara, and eye gloss.
I'm wearing a striped tank top under a sleeveless grey hoody that's ripped at the neck, a broach, tight jeans and my gold and black Puma hightops. Like it matters.
We go.
I try to start my scooter, and everyone is waiting, leaning on the car, watching, while my shit won't start, just won't start.
I definitley flood the engine. They take pictures of each other. They chat. Then it starts, we're off, once I realize where we're going I speed away from the car, Rocco keeps taking pictures of me. I get nervous when people watch me drive, if I make a fatal error that gets me killed or hurt, I don't want anyone I know watching, that way if it's TOTALLY my fault I can play it down and seem more sympathetic.
I stop for oil and to put my gloves on and arrive at Dioabolical's after the rest of them.
It is undoubtedly a grown up party. There is a spread of ordervs. Thank god bc I am so hungry and too sober. I need to put something in my mouth to feel less uncomfortable.
Then there's jameson on the rocks. Diabolical is wearing tall black boots, pink fence net stockings, a black skirt and pinkish top.
Her cousin's girlfriend comes by and we make jokes about her sitting on my shoulder and being a parrot, I'll feed you cheese and crakcers! "I'll repeat whatever you say" she says. She doesn't have shoes on. Maybe I over dressed. Maybe I should have worn my crappy vans. Less mascara.
Then it's quiet. again.
I eat more hummus, and some baklavah. Olives. Olives are an awkward party food. They require not only putting food into your mouth buy working it around, maybe chipping a tooth then spitting out the rat-turd like center. I could do better. I could eat something a little more attractive. I drop my plastic fork on the floor, and everyone notices so I can't pick it up and use it again. Diabolical gives me a new one, but I mix the two up, so now I can't use either.
I give half my booze to Horse. He resists at first, but I give him the desperate look of someone falling into a deep hole of social awkwardness, which probably just comes out as squinting.
Horse looks just as awkward as I feel, when he jets outside for a cigarette I follow close behind. It's cold with no sleeves.
We chat about Long Island because Horse is from Long Island just like me and Rocco. He's from the south shore about 4 towns over from where I grew up. It's different in the south as compared to the north shore where I moved at 13. There were no sidewalks in my new neighborhood, no gas stations. barely a corner market. We lived so far from the highway. The south shore is much trashier.
Rocco joins us, then we go back inside.
Wine+Jameson+Lime?
Horse and I stake it out next to the unlit fireplace. Diabolical asks him to play dj. She has Clor on her iPod. Totally weird.
There's alot of DVD's here.
Diabolical's swedish cousin comes by and warns us he might sing soon. He's drinking alot. Rocco and Mr. start to sing some chrismtas songs in swedish or dutch or something. The weirdness is not lost on me and Horse.
We go outside again, I think.
Or back to the buffet.
Outside first. Jokes are made. There are more of us now. Others from Long Island. Diabolical's husband too. he seems really, not goth. And she used to be so goth. Maybe he was but San Francisco got to him. They talk about pot and some boy who's here for the party but I'm stuck in a text message/voicemail attempt to make plans for after the party. Pony is at the Stud and I want to go. Boyf might, but he wants to stay in. I am too drunk to leave. But I keep drinking.
My first girlfriend in High School is here . She edits a videogame design magazine. She just got in from London.
We go inside.
Rocco or Horse makes a joke about shitting on someone, right at that moment the room goes quiet so all you hear is the drunk loud punch line about shitting on someone. Hilarity ensues. Mr. and Jo lose it. Totally lose it. Someone references Folsom Street fair.
We talk about coming out, and faggots sleeping with ladies. Jo relates some story about watching baseball in college and his girlfriend trying to break up with him. He just wants to watch the game. Horse and I are on the same step. He keeps laughing at my jokes, I'm totally on a roll. Totally the cool funny guy, with nice clothes too. But maybe he's laughing at me. Rocco always laughs at my jokes. But maybe he's just really nice because I know he's discerning and I'm not that funny.
I go to the bathroom, and half expect to find an orgy going on. I don't know why. It's Diabolical's birthday, anything can happen. Or you could convince me that anything did happen. Later.
I leave.
It's so cold on the way home I grind my teeth. I think my wrists are getting frost bite. I'm hungry.
I get home and Boyf and I fight, just a little bit but I'm drunk/sober enough that I just swallow the sleeping pills and lie down, Hoping they'll take me under soon.
Pics by Rocco
Jerrica buys me a frenet and ginger. Everyone is like "that is so San Francisco." It's like the theme for the weekend.
They quit it quick and head to Solstice for dinner, and I go back to the salon and call Rocco to figure out what we're doing.
I call Diabolical and get her husband, she's not even home yet so we're clearly not going to her birthday party for a while.
I head to Rocco's bro's house.
It's Rocco, his brother Mr., Mr.'s boyfriend Jo, their housemate, Nana, and Horse (Rocco's boyfriend).
We watch Donna Summer and Stevie Nick's playing music on the tv, then some VH1 clip show. I feel stupider everytime I watch one. This one is Awesomely Bad Best Week Ever Amazing Life of One Hit Wonders.
Awesome.
I take out my bandanas, Horse and Rocco each get one, and I'm psyched because they are psyched.
They take showers, I curl my eyelashes twice, apply mascara, and eye gloss.
I'm wearing a striped tank top under a sleeveless grey hoody that's ripped at the neck, a broach, tight jeans and my gold and black Puma hightops. Like it matters.
We go.
I try to start my scooter, and everyone is waiting, leaning on the car, watching, while my shit won't start, just won't start.
I definitley flood the engine. They take pictures of each other. They chat. Then it starts, we're off, once I realize where we're going I speed away from the car, Rocco keeps taking pictures of me. I get nervous when people watch me drive, if I make a fatal error that gets me killed or hurt, I don't want anyone I know watching, that way if it's TOTALLY my fault I can play it down and seem more sympathetic.
I stop for oil and to put my gloves on and arrive at Dioabolical's after the rest of them.
It is undoubtedly a grown up party. There is a spread of ordervs. Thank god bc I am so hungry and too sober. I need to put something in my mouth to feel less uncomfortable.
Then there's jameson on the rocks. Diabolical is wearing tall black boots, pink fence net stockings, a black skirt and pinkish top.
Her cousin's girlfriend comes by and we make jokes about her sitting on my shoulder and being a parrot, I'll feed you cheese and crakcers! "I'll repeat whatever you say" she says. She doesn't have shoes on. Maybe I over dressed. Maybe I should have worn my crappy vans. Less mascara.
Then it's quiet. again.
I eat more hummus, and some baklavah. Olives. Olives are an awkward party food. They require not only putting food into your mouth buy working it around, maybe chipping a tooth then spitting out the rat-turd like center. I could do better. I could eat something a little more attractive. I drop my plastic fork on the floor, and everyone notices so I can't pick it up and use it again. Diabolical gives me a new one, but I mix the two up, so now I can't use either.
I give half my booze to Horse. He resists at first, but I give him the desperate look of someone falling into a deep hole of social awkwardness, which probably just comes out as squinting.
Horse looks just as awkward as I feel, when he jets outside for a cigarette I follow close behind. It's cold with no sleeves.
We chat about Long Island because Horse is from Long Island just like me and Rocco. He's from the south shore about 4 towns over from where I grew up. It's different in the south as compared to the north shore where I moved at 13. There were no sidewalks in my new neighborhood, no gas stations. barely a corner market. We lived so far from the highway. The south shore is much trashier.
Rocco joins us, then we go back inside.
Wine+Jameson+Lime?
Horse and I stake it out next to the unlit fireplace. Diabolical asks him to play dj. She has Clor on her iPod. Totally weird.
There's alot of DVD's here.
Diabolical's swedish cousin comes by and warns us he might sing soon. He's drinking alot. Rocco and Mr. start to sing some chrismtas songs in swedish or dutch or something. The weirdness is not lost on me and Horse.
We go outside again, I think.
Or back to the buffet.
Outside first. Jokes are made. There are more of us now. Others from Long Island. Diabolical's husband too. he seems really, not goth. And she used to be so goth. Maybe he was but San Francisco got to him. They talk about pot and some boy who's here for the party but I'm stuck in a text message/voicemail attempt to make plans for after the party. Pony is at the Stud and I want to go. Boyf might, but he wants to stay in. I am too drunk to leave. But I keep drinking.
My first girlfriend in High School is here . She edits a videogame design magazine. She just got in from London.
We go inside.
Rocco or Horse makes a joke about shitting on someone, right at that moment the room goes quiet so all you hear is the drunk loud punch line about shitting on someone. Hilarity ensues. Mr. and Jo lose it. Totally lose it. Someone references Folsom Street fair.
We talk about coming out, and faggots sleeping with ladies. Jo relates some story about watching baseball in college and his girlfriend trying to break up with him. He just wants to watch the game. Horse and I are on the same step. He keeps laughing at my jokes, I'm totally on a roll. Totally the cool funny guy, with nice clothes too. But maybe he's laughing at me. Rocco always laughs at my jokes. But maybe he's just really nice because I know he's discerning and I'm not that funny.
I go to the bathroom, and half expect to find an orgy going on. I don't know why. It's Diabolical's birthday, anything can happen. Or you could convince me that anything did happen. Later.
I leave.
It's so cold on the way home I grind my teeth. I think my wrists are getting frost bite. I'm hungry.
I get home and Boyf and I fight, just a little bit but I'm drunk/sober enough that I just swallow the sleeping pills and lie down, Hoping they'll take me under soon.
Pics by Rocco
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