2003-01-12

Tonight I was an act of God, barely contained within my clothes. A force to be reckoned with at the Bar, senses alive, in tune with all that was hip, cool, and modern. A validity of wit, fashion, modern urban ideals. And now I�m watching She-Spies and eating bologna sandwiches while bragging about it on the Internet. Life is full circle sometimes. Seriously, though, a white bread and bologna sandwich along with as much water as a intoxicated stomach will take is great hangover cure.

I went out tonight with the roommate, meeting some friends at a local restaurant. Our service was TERRIBLE. I mean, I�ve had McDonalds employees more attentive to my needs. We were all in good spirits however, and so the meal was pleasant. Towards the end we got our kicks ripping on the server, and that�s always fun. We enrolled tables around us into it as well. It was a coming together, in the vein of community spirit. Sure it was at the expense of a harried and underpaid service employee, but it kept us from getting unruly so he should be grateful. We then adjourned to a local watering hole where yours truly achieved the aforementioned greatness. The roommate left after a beer, bitter and lonely. But that�s because he was refusing to work it. There was not a group I was hesitant to join in the conversation, no person I wouldn�t chat up. I lit so many cigarettes with my Betty Page zippo I believe I may have to refill the reservoir. Names lost all meaning, it was all about the moment, flitting like a moth to the flame of coolness, finding it wherever I lit. I felt very much alive. Still do in fact. I came home to a quiet apartment and a note that SNL was being taped. Made the sandwich and here I am. It has been a long time since I�ve enjoyed myself as thoroughly as I have tonight. It felt great to be so involved with life. I normally act above it all, sitting somewhere, or with my group, hiding behind my designer clothes and projecting a sense of aloofness and snobbery. If you want to talk to me, you have to work it, and work it good. Tonight was the opposite of that. If you were lively, interesting, or marginally attractive, hey! I don�t even think I�ll regret it tomorrow, when I�ll wake up bloated and dehydrated and my mouth tasting like it had been attached to the tail pipe of a �72 Volkswagon beetle, explaining both why my lips are numb and the unpleasant taste in my mouth. Even then, when I�m awakened at 8 am to go have brunch with my grandparents, a monthly ritual I put up with so as not to be disinherited. Actually, it�s a helping, to be dulled by the excesses of the night before. It allows me to put up with the racist rhetoric and lectures about morality that only members of their generation possess. I also get to do laundry and other assorted chores that make for a pleasant, lazy Sunday. So, I�ll talk about the diary design tomorrow. I�ll all tapped out tonight.

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