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Pre-Hallowe'en Hell I intended to write an entry yesterday about how I don't like Mondays and how yesterday was no different, describing the events of the day along with the weekend, but I just didn't get around to it, so I guess I'll do it now that it's Tuesday. Sometimes, I don't like Tuesdays, either. Sometimes, they feel no better than Mondays. In fact, sometimes, they're worse than Mondays because you expect them to be better, having gotten the recommencement of the work week over with, but then, things go wrong, and the disappointment drags Tuesday's rating even lower than Monday's. Today was not the worst Tuesday, though, and it's the end of a pay period, which means I get paid on Friday, which makes life a bit easier. Additionally, tonight, I think I'll go out, have a few drinks, do a little dance, you know the deal. Friends are such wonderful things. I'll attempt chronological order, though. Friday night, Lars came over, as usual, but a little earlier. We watched TV, smoked, drank, had Chinese food, had sex, slept. It was all very much in keeping with the usual schedule. Saturday, woke up a bit, um, unrecovered from Friday night. More sex. Had lunch by myself because Lars didn't get out of bed early enough, and I had to be at a rehearsal. I was in one of those moods where I don't want to be bothered by people, especially not strangers, and I don't want to talk to anyone or be touched or approached, so I was frustrated when I stopped at Burger King to grab some food on the way to rehearsal and discovered that not only was there a line, there was an ostensibly homeless man in the line who felt the need to talk to me. This rather annoyed and alarmed me in my agoraphobic haze, so I left Burger King and chose to stop for food at Subway, where the line seemed shorter and was filled with better-looking people. Rehearsal sucked (yet again), and I went home, stopping on the way at the liquor store to check with Olivier on the details of one party and buy a bottle of wine for the other. Rebeccah's party, 50 miles to the east, was on a flexible time schedule (dinner-ish hour) and non-costumed. Brandon's party, 50 miles to the north, was later and costumed. I found Lars some of my clothes to wear so we could make him a passable vampire, and chose more trashy raver-gear (which I practically never wear) for myself. The first party was quiet, filled with yummy things to munch, and pleasantly sophisticated. We changed into our costumes (black clothes, teeth, and make-up including fake blood for Lars; black vinyl pants, a silver mesh shirt, glitter in the eyebrows & hair, silver paint in the hair, and glitter on the lips for me -- a Puck for the 21st Century), and were off to traverse the state. Brandon's house is a beautifully-kept (by his obsessively neat cute-as-a-button housemate) raised ranch, and the party would've been lovely, apart from the annoying queens around the piano singing hideous songs while the radio was still on. Towards the end of the party, I hijacked the piano and delivered a thunderous version of Tori's "Leather." They were playing all this nauseous maudlin stuff like LES MISERABLES, and I couldn't stand it. And then, we left (it was quite late, and everyone was drunk except for me). And then, the shit really hit the proverbial fan. On the way home, I happened to mention that Lars's repeatedly introducing himself as "Jesus Christ, the alleged son of God" and going off on repetitive tirades about the evils of religion had mildly annoyed people (as had his fingering and moving of things in Brandon's room while we were all sitting there chatting). In response, he felt the need to talk about how Hallowe'en is supposedly a satanic holiday, and religion is evil, having been completely perverted to the point that it no longer contains any truth, and God, if He exists at all, hates everyone. In short, he was spouting ill-informed uneducated bullshit, which I found really offensive, and I told him so, repeatedly. He still wouldn't shut up until shortly before we got back to New Haven. I went to bed; he stayed up to smoke. I don't remember when he came to bed. I didn't care. I got up Sunday morning to get dressed and go sing mass. I returned late, having determined that it was time to end things completely. It hurt a lot more than I thought it would, and we both ended up crying. I miss him, now; I'll miss him for a long time, and I wish him well, because I loved him, and to a certain degree, I still do, but between geography, scheduling, and completely divergent views and rather incompatible value systems, I honestly cannot imagine us having a serious lasting relationship. He left; I laid around for awhile, then went back to church to sing compline, where Al and Kendra were sympathetic ears (and hearts and minds). I'm SO thankful for their friendship. I spent the night feeling that it was the worst thing I'd ever done in my life. "They call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday's just as bad..." Actually, Monday was just kind-of annoyingly slow. I wanted to call or e-mail Lars to make sure he was okay, but couldn't. I knew I couldn't reach him by phone, and I wouldn't know what to say in an e-mail. At the end of the day, I went home and alternated watching LAW & ORDER and ALLY MCBEAL. I was disappointed in the latter; it was neither as funny nor as affecting as I remembered it. I've determined that there are several days when, due to the number of stations carrying L&O in syndication, one could watch as many as 7 hours of LAW & ORDER...If one wanted to. I'm not saying I've actually done it or anything... Today, on the way to work, I was walking across the Green when I saw a girl who looked so much like Christine that I stopped and stared. She noticed this, and acknowledged, with a smile that seemed to say, "Hey, you're cute too; thanks for noticing me." That, at least, started the day off on a better foot. It's been a day of productivity, of actually doing things instead of sitting around. And I've still got more things to do tomorrow, which I find encouraging, somehow. On my lunch break, which ended up being two hours instead of one, I had Indian food, got my pictures developed, and spent about an hour on the phone with Christine in New Orleans, whom I actually reached instead of her answering machine. I missed her birthday; it was the 25th. (Mine's upcoming on the 7th; feel free to send gifts -- gold is appropriate, though I look silly wearing it; frankincense & myrrh are not, but they'd be accepted gratefully anyway.) Perhaps I'll get down there to see her before she leaves, after all, as it seems that she's just gonna stay down there and keep working on that dissertation until I actually get around to it. We'll see. So now, I'm off to rehearsal again. Please make these people know their music for a change. TCBSGIP, r Now Playing: Me singing Joni Mitchell's "River" (okay, that's just in my head)
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