last night i slept next to "a good school" by richard yates. i only wore underpants. i fell asleep with a kleenex up my right nostril. i woke up and i thought "i am fucked" and "this is probably how a lot of lonely computer programmers fall asleep and wake up, except maybe replace richard yates with gamer mags." my cat started humping my arm. or i don't know if it's humping or what, he just mounts my arm and moves his ass and licks my hand. i feel confused by it.
in chicago, my friend jake told me that cats have barbed penises and it's actually really painful when they have sex with each other. it hurts the mancat and the womancat both. he bites her neck so she doesn't run away. the barbs on his penis stimulate some part of her uterus or something.
i'm not sure what combination of atoms and energy or whatever made me made me, but i'm glad that i got made into a human instead of a cat.
my macbook is so dirty. it looks like its owner should be the last person on earth, who has been living in a sewer drain for seven years, who is good at physics and is building a time machine. white is a bad color for things you use a lot.
the other night i went out with two of my coworkers. we went to the peppermill, which is inside a hotel, which is where old people go to drink and talk about the civil war. it's cheap and quiet and right next to work, so we go there a lot. we all kind of have a "tongue in cheek" attitude about going. it's not a hipster bar, dive bar, or nice bar, which are probably the bars someone would guess people who look like us would go to after work. it smells like a retirement home. they have a very plentiful supply of mints and i always take a handful when i leave. everyone is nice there.
i drank four dogfish i.p.a.'s and had a double shot of jack daniels. my female coworker and i got salads. my male coworker didn't get food. we talked about relationships. i mostly listened, and waited for opportunities to say something. one time there was an opportunity to say something, but i didn't have anything to say, so i said, "oh. i don't know." then we were talking about hickeys. i told a story about two of my friends and i. we were sitting around one day and none of us had ever experienced a hickey, so we all decided to give each other hickeys on arbitrary, non-sexual places on our bodies, and then we went to the beach. i thought this story would be funny, because that experience was funny, we were laughing the whole time, but i think my coworkers thought it was deviant and strange. they seemed puzzled that it wasn't a sexual experience. we were quiet for awhile after i told the story. i felt embarrassed and like i needed to drink more.
eventually i think i made enough funny and relevant comments/questions so that i felt like i "broke even," or maybe exceeded "breaking even" and moved into "well-liked."
one coworker went home. he was wearing a skullcap. i have never seen him wear a hat. he was in a band with a guy from jimmie's chicken shack. after he left, my other coworker and i went to this bar which was full of people who listen to the dave matthews band. we sat at the bar. i drank two bud lights and we each did a shot of jack daniels out of a dixie cup. it was extremely crowded and dark. i think we were hit on several times. it was like shitty college party: the bar.
i'm pretty sure we had several different conversations. we could have spent ten minutes or two hours there. i started to feel "too drunk" and not aware of myself anymore. then we left. she asked me if i would be okay to drive. i said yes. it was probably two in the morning.
i listened to lou reed on the way home. i ran red lights in the city. i thought "reckless and stupid, but okay" as i was doing this. i focused my eyes directly in front of me so i could use my peripheral vision to concentrate on the yellow and white lines on the road. i felt like i was playing a video game.
i remember directionless-ly standing in my room and i guess i called seth at 2:39 a.m., but he didn't pick up. then i called this girl i went to high school with and i went over to her apartment. we smoked pot and ate pot brownies with her roommate and this boy who looked like yogi bear's son. i remember feeling like everyone was staring at me. i would say something and there would be a long pause. i felt like i was speaking russian. i think they laughed at a few things i said.
the entire night i do not remember what conversations were had. i feel like getting drunk/stoned with people is sometimes just a way to "pay dues" to a voice inside of me which says "you should be social," it doesn't count as actually hanging out and enjoying the company of others and feeling genuinely connected. at the same time, i don't feel like there is anything morally "bad" about doing it sometimes, it's just something that happens.
when i smoke pot with people sometimes it is a good experience and we all laugh about the same thing. i used to smoke pot with my ex-boyfriend and we would think of ways to make each other laugh, or show each other things on the internet, or go for walks in the woods, or eat fast food, or have sex. when i smoke pot with people other times, i feel extremely alienated and detached. this usually happens when people start talking about politics. when i am sober i already feel defeated when talking about politics. whether i am stoned or sober, when political discussions start to happen, i usually try to busy my hands with something and think of a way to direct the conversation to something that could make everyone laugh instead.
i wish i could hang out with lil wayne, but i feel like he doesn't "hang out" with girls, he mostly has sex with them. if we could just kick it and drink cough syrup and spit 16 bars it would be good.