I ran into an old friend Friday night while dancing at Lipgloss. I haven't seen him in years. I was afraid to ask if he was straight or gay. My gaydar is all fucked up. Some men had to be straight. They had to. The lesbians stayed away from me for the most part but not my friend. If you ignore them, they will go away (most of the time). It's always worked for me.
What song got me on the dance floor? The Wolfgang Press' "Mama Told Me Not to Come" gets me every time it's great version of the song and a great album. I about creamed my panties when I heard it come on. Aileen and I were at the bar talking to Jeff. I just looked at the both of them and said, "I have to go, here's my card. Put all of our drinks on it. I must dance. I love this band more than life itself sometimes. Seriously, this band is in my top three all time list." I walked off and entered the dance floor. It was heaven on the dance floor. Heaven was everywhere. The set was continued with a bunch of Brit-pop crap and I loved it. "I am the resurrection and I am the light" was screamed at the top of my lungs. I haven't had that much fun dancing to real music in years. Years.
I'm pretty sure the margarita and vodka tonics that were churning in my stomach helped the euphoria.
I saw some other old friends that know me by a different name, John and Mary. John, aka The Whipping Boy (The Whip), is great to party with any day of the week. He made his money in the 90s being an obnoxious radio DJ. I think he pretty much does nothing these days. I don't think he works and I'm afraid to ask. I forget if it's a sore subject. Either way, I don't think he needs the money. They knew me when I was an annoying 20-something. I think I drink a lot now (at times) but nothing compares to back then.
I saw an old kickball crush. I never expected to see him again. He hasn't played since my first season in 2003. I think (I hope) he's straight. It would crush me if he were gay. I never even knew his name.
I called in sick for work tomorrow. I have a serious water leak into my apartment (the laundry room ceiling to be exact) that is making my allergies go berserk. I can't stop coughing blah blah blah...
I need to catch up on schoolwork.
