To open, I want to say that this weekend has been the best birthday I’ve had in a very long time.
I woke up at six o’clock Friday morning and found myself excited about the day. This fact alone indicates a a huge improvement from previous years. I mean, really, the only times I’m really excited at six in the morning are when I still haven’t gone to sleep from the previous night, and something really fun is going on. Throw in that it’s my birthday on top of that, and you’ve probably got cause to be concerned over my mental health. (To quote myself from some point last night, “Oh, I’m crazy. I just hide it from everyone.”)
I went to work, and was immediately beset with well wishes. I took them all graciously. Previous years found me smirking anytime someone uttered the words, “Happy birthday.” It settled quickly, until two hours later when a procession walks in singing the damned song. One of my co-workers, who is really nice despite being a Yankee and unafraid to give her opinion, had bought me a cake. This touched me. I mean, yeah, it’s just a cake. But… well, it’s hard to explain. I’ll just leave it at saying that I appreciated this gesture quite a bit.
At lunchtime, some other co-workers and I met up at Longhorn Steakhouse for a Christmas lunch (and to celebrate my birthday). Strutter couldn’t make it because she had to make up some hours and couldn’t afford the long lunch break. I had really hoped she would show up for the lunch, because I was expecting her to bail on coming to the party. (“It’s complicated.”) Bubbles, my chief co-worker, handed me my present. I hadn’t really expected a gift, but again found it touching that she gave me one. It was a checkerboard with shotglasses as the pieces. I am going to make a spot to put this out as soon as I clean up the house. To go along with it, she gave me a bottle of vodka. You know you talk about drinking too much when your presents are all alcohol-related,
I left work early and headed down to to D’s Wings to hang out with the bartenders. I ordered myself a beer, and they started sending shots my way. (Start time of alcohol consumption – 2:36pm on 12/21) I didn’t really count, but it was a good amount of booze entering my body. When I asked for my check, they laughed at me, told me it was my birthday, and then acted hurt that I didn’t invite them to my party. Looking back, I totally should have invited them before then. So I drove home. Yes, I was probably too drunk to drive. I feel pretty awful about doing it. I think the biggest thing that kept me focused was the fact that I had to piss like a racehorse from the moment I left the bar, and it was a twenty minute drive to the house. I got home, had a near orgasmic pee, and then threw up because the house was spinning. I remember thinking that an Irish Car Bomb tastes about the same going down as it does coming up, and maybe that’s why a dog is so quick to eat his own vomit. Maybe it tastes the same in both directions? *shrug*
After brushing my teeth, I set about cleaning and straightening and inflating. The Bumble inflatable was such a hit that Strutter had brought over several more for me to litter my house and yard with:
Yes, Mickey is a vampire, and he is eyeing my trashcan with enough zeal to give away the fact that I’ve hidden bodies in there. Strutter had also brought me an inflatable turkey, but I was out of room and it was wet outside and I didn’t feel like putting him up. She also brought a Grinch mannequin over, which I placed to be looking out the front window with Bumble. As I’m decorating/littering the yard, two kids from across the street came over and said hi. This was pretty damn random, considering that I’ve always thought the kids in the neighborhood were afraid of me. I said hi back, and we talked a little bit. I explained I was setting up for a birthday party, and they wished me a happy one before running back off to play in their yard. It was kind of surreal, like something you’d see in an indy film. I was most beflaffled*. (NOTE – “beflaffled” is a word made up by Strutter, and I’m totally incorporating it into my vocabulary now.)
I had a few hours before anyone started showing up, so I was able to get everything straightened up before guests started arriving. I was also able to sober up. I think it’d be poor form to be pre-drunkified* when the first guest arrived.
The first guest was Strutter. She was wearing her “naughty shirt,” (her words) which I appreciated quite a bit. The next guests were Phloxen (I couldn’t think of a nickname for you, so I’m just stealing yours) and her man. I’ve not introduced these two before, so let me take a moment. Phloxen is Strutter’s best friend since high school, and she also works with me in my department. I think it’s because of Phloxen that Strutter and I ended up hanging out. (So thank you, girl!) It was at Phloxen’s house when Strutter and I first hung out off-work. (Ninja-Link! I’m in the white Clemson sweatshirt. Strutter is the one that can’t stop laughing.) Phloxen brought with her a communal present, which was a piñata full of vodka mini-bottles and an inflatable woman, who has no holes at all in which to put one’s penis. None. What cruel friends I have. Or maybe the vodka is supposed to get me so drunk that I don’t notice…
Soon enough, Team Richardson showed up. This was actually sort of bittersweet, because I recently learned that they will be moving to some unpronounceable town (It sounds like “skin-ectomy”) in New York. I’m happy for XY and his new job, but I’m going to miss these guys. The good news, though, is now I have a place to crash up there, and maybe they’ll have some new material to bitch about on their dead podcast. (Love you, guys!)
I was nervous about mingling friend-groups, and it was totally unwarranted here. Everyone seemed to get along great, as we all sat around talking and playing Rock Band. (And, in case I haven’t advertised this thing enough, this game is a great party game! Totally worth the money.) I had a great time, and I think that my friends did as well. It was a good test-run at having folks, over, and it let me know that I need to do this sort of thing more often. (Though next time I won’t buy nearly as much snack food.)
As the hours wound on, folks started drifting out to their cars. (As Team Richardson was leaving, they couldn’t stop talking about how cool Strutter was. Even though we’re not “officially dating” or anything, it made me feel good to hear them say that.) About three in the morning, Strutter and I were alone. Neither of us were tired, so cuddled up on the couch and talked a lot, and complained about how I didn’t have cable, and smooched a little, and talked about becoming Catholics together, and before we knew it the sun was up, and neither of us were tired.
So off we popped, piling into the Struttermobile and driving off to her place to feed to dogs. When she first mentioned that she had dogs, I was nervous. Not because I was afraid her pets wouldn’t like me, but because I envision most girls having these little yippy annoying dogs that I just want to kick from underfoot. When I met them, I was most happy to be disappointed. She has two Labradors, one of which is as big as a horse and can knock me on my as if I’m not ready for him to jump on me. I love wrestleable* dogs! So we gave them some food and loved on them a bit, and then we Struttermobiled it back to my place. (Once I get my fence installed, I’m telling her to bring the dogs along any time she visits. As long as they play nice with my future pet goat.) Also, while we were there, she grabbed a Clash disc for me to borrow, as well as two books by Chuck Palahniuk (Rant and Lullaby) and a Spongebob Squarepants DVD. On the ride back, we’re listening to The Clash, and I hear these noises coming out of her mouth. I look over, and she was singing the guitar parts!!! (To find out why this amuses me so much, click here and read the last three paragraphs)
Back at my place, we put in Spongebob and cuddled up on the couch again to enjoy Saturday morning cartoons. Whatever happened to Saturday morning cartoons? Prior to putting the DVD in, I flipped through the network channels and there was NOTHING on. Two of them were infomercials! Did cartoons all move to Nickelodeon, Disney, and the Cartoon Network? What do children without cable watch on Saturday mornings? Are they sitting there watching Billy Mays tell them how awesome OxyClean is at getting out stains? Or am I just misremembering my youthful days of lying on the living room floor and watching cartoons all the way up until noon? Has it always been this shitty?
Anyways, who cares what was on television? I was snuggling with Strutter. We picked right up in the conversation, ranging from funny things to serious things, punctuated with occasional smooches. I’m not going to ramble on and on about it, so I’ll just say we spent the entire day together and she ended up falling asleep at my house around seven o’clock in the evening. (So she’d been awake close to 34 hours.) I wasn’t even tired. Good thing, too, because I needed to straighten the house again for the next gathering, which was two hours away. The gamers were coming over after nine.
I’d invited five people to come, but only three did. Gamer Prime, Steve (formerly known as Fisherman), and Felecia (formerly known as Mouth, but now known as Felecia because she posts comments under her own name). Koondog and Sims didn’t show, but I didn’t really expect either of them to when I invited them. Despite the small number, I think we had a crapload of fun. I ordered us a couple of pizzas and we wailed away on Rock Band until close to one o’clock, at which point my body revolted at having been awake for 43 hours straight. After bidding everyone goodnight, I can’t describe how awesome it felt to be sliding into bed beside Strutter to go to sleep. There’s something about sleeping next to someone. Sex is great and all, but I think sleeping in someone’s arms, or with someone in yours, is about the most intimate thing you can do with someone. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
Around eight o’clock this morning, we started to wake up. I’ve said it a few times here, but I am so not a morning person. I’m grumpy. I grunt. I growl. I’m just an unholy terror before I’m completely awake. Waking up next to her, I was none of these things. She, however, turns out not to be a morning person either. So I was very much amused when she growled at me. (“Go back on your side!”) Once we were up and awake, she apologized several times for it, but I just laughed and started the coffee. After some more snuggling and ignoring of the television on the couch, she was awake enough to go home and get ready to spend time with her family this afternoon. I took a picture of her before she left, wearing my sweatshirt and my shoes, which makes her look even tinier than normal, but I promised I wouldn’t show it to anyone. I’ll just say that this picture is probably my favorite one of her so far.
Now, to clean my house up one more time, and then get ready to go out to another TWO parties tonight.
*These are made up words. Do not use them on a college entrance essay.