"Gays of Our Lives"

My life is sometimes compared to a soap opera. I won't lie, sometimes it seems like it would make a good TV show. Most of the time though, I laugh at those jokes.
Not so much this weekend. This weekend has been very, very soap operatic.

Craig seems to be warm for my form* again, so that's good news. I know, every time I post it's hot or cold, but at least right now....all's well that's going well for the time-being. :-P

This weekend was...WOW. I went to work Friday, and brought two dear friends of mine who were fully intending on getting shitfaced. And oh boy did they ever!
When we got into the car to go home (this is after the bouncer Nelson helped me bring them to the car in the first place) the vomiting started. We'd been smart and brought bags. But that was when my number one fan, also drunk, decided that he should get in the passenger seat of the car next to me and try to convince me to go home with him. Now, he's like seventy, so I was pretty much like "Pop your Viagra, get a facelift or six, and come back fifty years ago. Then we'll talk." For a number one fan, he hadn't even tipped me that night, so I decided if he kept it up he was going to become my number one restraining order.
My friends vomited the entire hour ride back to school. They were still vomiting for a good long while after we got them into the dorm that I was dropping them off in.

Needless to say, I slept most of Saturday after a night like that.
Then I headed on over to the mall to get my car fixed (as I've been driving on a spare since I blew a tire two weeks ago). They had the tire. They had the rim. They were all ready to stick on my car. "Fifteen minutes," they said, "Stick around."
So I stuck around.
One hour I stuck around. I was not pleased.

So, just by sad coincidence, I was supposed to be at the theater exactly when that hour ended. So I called my stage manager for my one act and professed my profound apologies at the incompetence of the Tires Plus people. Not incompetence -- lack of time management skills.

The one acts went marvelously, and then went and struck the set. I left strike early, and went to go get ready for work. So I'm mildly shocked when Cody gives me a call and asks for Jason's number.
Now, how had he missed the little game or whatever it was where Jason refuses to give me his number and totally toys with me and my gullibility over this? C'mon now, let's be real. So I say no, and ask why.
Well, what was going on was Josh's own personal issues so I won't go into them but let me just say that this kind of shit belongs on television, not in real life. End of discussion. Get me a camera crew if this gonna keep up.

So I got to work and Cody called me to let me know that Josh was okay and safe. Cody had been out looking for Josh for at least forty-five minutes and he stayed with him until Josh's parents arrived. Then Cody came out to XS because of something else major going out:
Our friend from last school year, David, had disappeared in June when he started dating this MAJOR creepy asswad. They broke up (I think) last week, and David was just now coming back to us. Like when a character comes back to life in a TV show. It was very exciting, very good. He's shaved his head...but, hey, whatever works for him. He has a nice car now so that's an improvement. :-P
I also made a few new friends, although I didn't manage to get all their numbers so I'm hoping they'll be back for the big party that is next Saturday!

The three of us crashed at a friend of David's place. Cody slept on the floor, and David and I tried to share the couch but that wasn't so much happening. Noting my discomfort, the friend invited me to sleep in his bed with him. He warned me he was a cuddler.
Cuddling, however, led to shirt-removal, which led to making out....you know where I'm going with this. It meant nothing, it really was nothing. Just a hook-up. So incredibly just a hook-up, that it is the most hook-uppiest hook-up I have ever hooked. Which I think I'm oddly okay with, although I do feel kind of like a slut.

Today, Cody and I hung out. He brought me Oreos. Big mistake. I've been battling my addiction to those cookies and for three weeks I've not had any in the room. He brought two packages. He's a friggin' enabler. These are normal ones, but next thing you know...it's Double Stuf. Then it's the chocolate covered, or peanut butter, or caramel, or white fudge, or the funky red-cream holiday ones! And then before you know it, I'm back to spending all of my money on Oreos and not on important things!


*Credit for this phrase goes to my fabulous friend Mel!