demolition woman, can i be your man? 11.08.03 | 4:41pm
i have SUCH awesome luck with my car (it's a long story, you'll get to the part about the car eventually).
so i went out last night for a thrilling evening at the soon-to-be-closed (or whatever, the story keeps chaning) gay bar. the place was dead as all hell, but i was supposed to meet up with deb, this woman i met about a month ago when i ran out of money and cigarettes at the same time and needed to make a friend in a hurry. that makes me sound like some god awful user, let me rephrase that... she looked like the only person in the entire bar that i'd be interested in holding a conversation with, because she was just about the only one i didn't know and therefore hadn't previously made assumptions about. i guess that still makes me sound like a bitch... oh well.
anyhow, so last night we hung out at the bar for a couple hours talking, except for the 5 times that my phone interrupted -- first, my grandpa and mike, and then four other people going "who are you with?" ...and i'd tell them, and they'd inevitably have no idea who she was, and they might as well have just asked "are you dating this woman?" because that's all they really were interested in knowing in the first place. i really should leave my phone in the car next time...
well anyway, after a couple hours at the bar derek called and said we should drop by jeremy's apartment, which we did. deb and i were the only partygoers of the female persuasion in attendance, which only bothered me for a little while when i felt like i was intruding on some sacred gay boy bonding where anything with ovaries was frowned upon or something like that, but i was assured that that was not the case. between the difinitive assortment of cher classics blasting from the stereo and the seemingly bottomless bottle of crown, a good time was enjoyed by all. ;)
but the real fun began when i left jeremy's apartment around 3 in the morning... deb had her truck so she went off on her merry way, and i proceeded to head towards my apartment... but i noticed something seemed a little 'off' with the neonmobile shortly after pulling out of the parking lot. my first reaction was to do what i usually do to fix any car ailment -- turn up the stereo. this worked fairly well for a while -- sarah's new cd is so versatile in these sorts of situations. but pretty soon the noise got louder and my car started shaking, which was when i realized i had a flat tire. at this point, i was doing about 45 and was only one stoplight away from my apartment and REALLY didn't want to pull over because a) it was 3am and freezing outside, plus i was fairly lit and it would totally be my luck to have a cop happen by b) i don't know how to change a tire and c) i really just wanted to go home and go to sleep. so i'm driving along on this flat tire, and it's kind of fun, like some bumpy carnival ride. finally, i get to my apartment -- i'm going over speedbumps and everything, mind you -- and do just as planned, which was "go to sleep." i had a bunch of really weird dreams... but that story can wait.
anyway, i woke up this morning going "haha, that whole flat tire situation must have totally been a bad dream, boy that would have sucked if it really happ-- ...oh shit!" and then i called my insurance people to send somebody out to put the doughnut on since i'm incompetent. when they guy looked at it, he was all "oh, you don't just have a flat tire. you blew the whole thing, and how dang far did you drive on this? the rim is completely bent." oh. well, who knew that just doing 45 for a mile on a flat tire will completely fuck things up?
i blame vodka for this, completely.
anyway, so now i'll have to blow $150 for a rim or whatever. adding this to my running total of neon repairs, i'm approximatly $9,000 in the hole, this year alone.
i totally hate my car. cars in general. what a pain in the ass.
so, back to the weird dreams i've been having...
lately i've had these recurring dreams where people completely screw me over. wait, that's real life... no, it's not really that they screw me over... more like these people that i think will be there through thick and thin just aren't. like last night -- i had this incredibly fucked up dream that involved two guys secretly videotaping me, then giving it to my ex and my mother. also, there was some random girl doing a bunch of drugs in my bathroom. anyway, the next day my mom and the ex come over to my apartment and i was happy to see them and started talking and then they both started screaming at me about how they'd seen this videotape and neither believed me when i said i didn't know what they were talking about... blah blah blah. they both said they hated me and then left.
so that sucked.
i'm really convinced that dreams aren't just random mixes of vodka and sleep deprivation; they've got much more to do with subconscious thought and all of those thoughts that float around at the very back of your mind, hardly making an appearance during waking hours, but lurking none the less. and i'm also pretty convinced that the latest dream in this reoccuring mess has much to do with my feeling that getting the rug pulled out from under my feet is just around the corner, constantly, anymore. i worry that everyone in my life could, at the drop of a hat, decide that they just didn't want me around anymore. i realize how irrational this is... and ironically, i guess it boils down to trust issues, among other things. i'm needy. i want love, lots of it. and when my sense of knowing what a person is like is suddenly shattered... lines everywhere blur. i've been questioning every tiny action, every tiny comment of those in my life more than ever, and that gets a little overwhelming.
ok, i've been pondering this crap for way too long, now. i'll quit rambling before it gets any more jumbled.
