Technically, it's a couple mornings after. I knew I was looking rough when I said hello to our clerk and she just started laughing to herself. There wasn't even an acknowledgment; my good morning was met with tee hee huh huh hee hee.
Not that she's be talking to me much this month anyways. The men in our office have almost succeeded in banning Christmas. No gift exchanges, no lunch, no streamers, no crass commercialism whatsoever.
If only this would catch on. I like the season otherwise, even though I tried to duck out of it this year. I pretty much hibernated most of October and November. I couldn't quite figure out why at first ... I didn't feel that depressed, but on any given weekend I was much happier at home watching tv than going to the bars.
Now I think I was saving up energy, 'cause December is rock star month. Ken rented the bungalow at Pupukea, so spent the weekend up there with the surf gang and a few odd hangers on. It was the typical half cool half strange weekend. I never achieved the level of highness and/or drunkenness and/or medicated bliss that some of my comrades achieved ... there were times when I think we had five or six unique states of consciousness present in one room.
Only one was a real irritant - the idiot stuck his hand down my pants, or tried to, my first hour in the house. I've crossed paths with him on and off over the past 14 years, so he took that to mean we were "old friend who go way back." Which: no. We weren't. We knew people in common - two pill-popping southern preachers - and I later cut all contact with those people when I realized how shallow, exploitative, and downright creepy they were.
I was very clear with the idiot that he was not to fuck with me. His meds kicked in an hour later & he passed out, so I'm not sure if he remembered my warning. As Jake put it, there are very few medications that are complemented by alcohol and pot.
But it was nice living on the beach, and it was nice being surrounded by friends for three days. Kurt was back in town, Tom came back for a month, Steve was up, Keoni, Ken of course, with his latest ethnobotanist. Ken II and Kevin came up briefly, and Jimmy spent the first night. I like communal living, even though I guard my privacy.
Monday was Haulani's party. I made the eggnog. Ran into another blast from the past - C, who was one of the preacher's boyfriends shortly before I cut contact. I haven't seen him in years either. He got too drunk to drive, so I sent him to bed. I suppose I was expected to go down and join him ... but I stayed at the party. I was having a fun time, & it's not like he was going anywhere.
Six more parties to go; I need to work 9.5 hour days the next two weeks so that I can comp part of my vacation; somehow the dishes are piling up again; and I still want to find time to tan and buff up before I head to Cairo.
Not that she's be talking to me much this month anyways. The men in our office have almost succeeded in banning Christmas. No gift exchanges, no lunch, no streamers, no crass commercialism whatsoever.
If only this would catch on. I like the season otherwise, even though I tried to duck out of it this year. I pretty much hibernated most of October and November. I couldn't quite figure out why at first ... I didn't feel that depressed, but on any given weekend I was much happier at home watching tv than going to the bars.
Now I think I was saving up energy, 'cause December is rock star month. Ken rented the bungalow at Pupukea, so spent the weekend up there with the surf gang and a few odd hangers on. It was the typical half cool half strange weekend. I never achieved the level of highness and/or drunkenness and/or medicated bliss that some of my comrades achieved ... there were times when I think we had five or six unique states of consciousness present in one room.
Only one was a real irritant - the idiot stuck his hand down my pants, or tried to, my first hour in the house. I've crossed paths with him on and off over the past 14 years, so he took that to mean we were "old friend who go way back." Which: no. We weren't. We knew people in common - two pill-popping southern preachers - and I later cut all contact with those people when I realized how shallow, exploitative, and downright creepy they were.
I was very clear with the idiot that he was not to fuck with me. His meds kicked in an hour later & he passed out, so I'm not sure if he remembered my warning. As Jake put it, there are very few medications that are complemented by alcohol and pot.
But it was nice living on the beach, and it was nice being surrounded by friends for three days. Kurt was back in town, Tom came back for a month, Steve was up, Keoni, Ken of course, with his latest ethnobotanist. Ken II and Kevin came up briefly, and Jimmy spent the first night. I like communal living, even though I guard my privacy.
Monday was Haulani's party. I made the eggnog. Ran into another blast from the past - C, who was one of the preacher's boyfriends shortly before I cut contact. I haven't seen him in years either. He got too drunk to drive, so I sent him to bed. I suppose I was expected to go down and join him ... but I stayed at the party. I was having a fun time, & it's not like he was going anywhere.
Six more parties to go; I need to work 9.5 hour days the next two weeks so that I can comp part of my vacation; somehow the dishes are piling up again; and I still want to find time to tan and buff up before I head to Cairo.
No comments:
Post a Comment