sublingua

The heart with a mind of its own.

(Be present.)

The mind with a heart of its own.

(It's past.)

The dream that is your waking life.

(Go there now.)

The Demon Who Stays Until The Birthday Sex Is Offered
Monday, Jan. 12, 2004

So to finish up the drunkenbowlingkaraoke birthday party evening:

So, as I said, there were only four of us drinking: Mel had a couple of peach schnapps and lemonade drinks (which I would have loved at 22, but which I sadly have to run screaming from at 32); one of the Jessicas had a rum and coke with very little rum and lots and lots of coke; x, as I said, had some very potent rum and cokes and a couple of shots of tequila; and I had a couple of shots of tequila. ("There's an extra futon if you can't for any reason drive," x said. And I was, like, I'm a Mexican. You think two shots of tequila are going to put me out of commission? My mama put twice that much in my formula.) The twins didn't drink, Jordan and the other Jessica were stoned, and Sherry was pregnant.

So the party was a lot like hanging out. ("This is what we do pretty much all the time," Mel said to me. "So this is what we do at parties. We don't know what other people do at their parties." She paused a moment, then said, "We have Pictionary.") Four of the girls split off and went and sat outside to smoke and talk. The rest of us sat inside and watched t.v. for a while. I made x bring out and show off his new toy, a sword that he uses for his martial arts class. (And I'll tell you what, I don't often envy the boys their toys, because it's always something like, "A jet ski? You do know we live in the desert, right?" But this sword? Yum. He pulled it out of a beautiful scabbard and brandished it for a bit, then magnanimously held it out to me to take. "Are you sure?" I said, like a schoolboy about to take hold of his first--because then I had this beautiful and deadly thing in my hands. Just like a schoolboy.) Then the sword got put away, and after a bit, Mel brought out pictures.

Now, I love other people's pictures. I don't care how boring they think it is to show or be shown endless vacation pictures and baby pictures and holiday pictures, I love it. Love it.

So I looked at pictures of Melissa from childhood, then a few from middle school, then from high school, when she first looked like every other generically pretty girl (on the arm of the weaselly high school boyfriend more often than not), then blossoming into the distinctive beauty that she is now. Then the x pictures came: The picture he sent her before they met in person. ("Those are professionally frosted tips," he said, drunkenly, proudly. And aren't you proud of me that I waited until he left the room to say to Mel, "Yeah. I would've said, um, no, to this guy." And she was, like, "Yeah," but the showed me another picture of x, only this one a guy to issue a decided yes to.) There were pictures of the two of them together, the perfect young alt couple, eating pizza, at the zoo, playing miniature golf. And then Mel made x bring out the pictures of the ex-girlfriends. And I have to say, poor x. Because for such a hot boy, he sure had rotten luck on the girlfriend front.

There was a picture of him at prom with a girl who looked a lot like a teenaged transvestite. ("I forbade her to wear heels," x said when I pointed out that they were the same height. "And, look, my hair is spiked, like, five inches off my head.") There was another girl who looked about twelve. ("Tell her about the x complex," Mel goaded him. And finally he told this story about how she had dated successive men named x, going from one of his co-workers named x to him to cheating on him with another guy named x. "And she has a brother named x," Mel said. I agreed it was creepy and joked with x, "Look, you were sleeping with a twelve-year-old." He said sadly, "We only did it once. It was like sleeping with a boy.")

Then he began to get all maudlin on us, apologizing for having broken his usual reserved veneer by getting drunk. We assured him that it was perfectly alright, that he was a charming drunk, that we all still loved him, that he was still at top of everyone's favorites lists.

Anyway, the evening ended rather abruptly when the drunken x decided that he had better finally offer the birthday sex to Mel, who was already falling asleep on the couch.

So I left after giving them both hugs. Because I'm just so Emily Post that way.

Happy Birthday, Mel!

retreat or surrender

More lies:
Waking Sleeping Demons II - Sunday, Oct. 30, 2011
Waking Sleeping Demons - Saturday, Oct. 29, 2011
time - Friday, May. 20, 2011
- - Wednesday, Oct. 06, 2010
The Return - Tuesday, Oct. 05, 2010

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