Saturday, May 28, 2011

Things. And stuff.

I'm going to try really hard to remember this night as it came.

Friend, love, drink.  (I'm going to tell you about this one day soon, but probably not tonight.  Maybe, but probably not.  We'll see.)


Home
What?
Okay
Off on my own
to the liquor store
then the round about way to anywhere
party
where do i park?
fuck, can't fit there
okay, this will work
god i hope i know someone here

"YAY! Natalie's here!!"
"Where's your better half?"
"OMG, you came out!!!"
"OMG, you're here!  Wait - this isn't your house!  What are you doing here?  Did you get lost?"
"Hey, Natalie's here!!! Where's Jimi?"
"Natalie came out!"

(Things my friends say when they see me in public)

"What do you do?"
..."I'm a philosopher..."

Steve and Maria hugged me like they were my brother and sister - love, is what I feel when they're around.  For each other, for me, whatever.  It's all the same.  Love is love, right?

I tried not to watch when they made out before parting company after they'd excused themselves from the party tonight.  They weren't really making out, just kissing goodbye.  I've known Steve for five years, and she's the first chick I've ever seen him french kiss.  I'm sorry if I'm acting like a child.  It's adorable.

LET IT BE

That's an album title, not a statement

I called my ex-husband tonight.  It was 2 a.m.  He didn't answer, but his voicemail did.  As I typically do when I'm drunk dialing (if memory serves, as I've not done it in at least a year an a half), I paused, forgetting whom I'd called,
Then I remembered,
"I guess I call this number about every year an a half, to see if it's still yours, or if you'll answer.  I hope you're happy, I hope you're doing well.  I'll talk to you soon...bye."

That "I hope you're happy" part, it sounded way bitchy.  Ooops.  That wasn't my intent. And WTF is up with the "i'll talk to you soon" part?  No I won't.  Like, hopefully not ever.  Bad habit from work, is the only excuse I've got.

I met a philosopher tonight.  No shit.  Do you know a fucking philosopher?  I do.  I watched that bitch down a shot of Kentucky moonshine like it was milk from her momma's titty, and all I can think is "what kind of fucking badass do you have to be to be a philosopher for a living?".  She was cute and blonde and wore a jean jacket and when someone passed her the straw hat, she wore it like a champ and looked like she'd been born into it.  She's been in KY less than a year.

I felt up a woman who's had a partial reconstruction after a mastectomy.  The smooth skin, the firmness of her implants - I wanted to keep touching, to explore her scars, because her reality is my fear and I felt like touching her made me less scared of what the reality is.  Her mom and grandmother died from breast cancer; she said "I'm going to survive this, dammit" and her husband said "this will change my life" and god willing, they're both right.  They are where I want to be 15 years from now, without the cancer as a backdrop.  They have a shadow box like Jimi's.  She described it as a "living scrapbook" and then taught me how to spell my maiden name in ASL.

My friend turned 30 tonight.  I brought her a bottle of champagne, and when the cork was popped, I toasted, "may every day of your life heretofore be happier than this moment right now", and she said, "But I'm so happy!".  Exactly, I said.  Exactly.

"We're on our way home...
We're on our way home...
We're going home..."

Burning matches
lifting latches
on our way back home

You and I have memories
longer than the road
that stretches out ahead


My brother's 22nd birthday is Thursday.
I got married at 22.
He is in a treatment center.
We both found ourselves in a sort of prison at that age, I guess.  We have that in common.


I had a revelation tonight.  A few, I guess.
One of these days, I'll have the nerve to tell you about them.



Leaving my house - I should do it more.  People are happy to see me when I go out.  That's a good feeling.
And what a fucking brilliant group of people I'm lucky enough to call my friends!  They're so amazing...except that chick who kept talking about her vagina.  I was embarrassed for her.


I had so much more to say, I'm sure of it...

3 comments:

  1. This sounds like quite the night. :) I feel a little overwhelmed trying to wrap my mind around it all...good luck to you.

    --ps, got your package (my books). SUPER excited about it. :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Um... I wish my night was as fun as that!

    picklesinmyass.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oh man, I'm probably the vagina girl at every party.

    You need to go out more because this post is awesome, not because people like to see you. I don't care about them.

    ReplyDelete

Please don't make me cry.

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