...in his carry on. People officially will do anything. And I can't even categorize the "anything", like: "anything you put in a movie" or "anything to get attention" or "anything to be different". People will just do anything period. Like that Sangina kid's hair, and naming your kid Rayon, and going out clubbing without underpants when you know your drunk ass is going to flash everyone in West Hollywood, and alerting the paparazzi of where you'll be so they can find you, and putting actual snakes in your actual carry on and ATUALLY believing you might board a plane. UNbelievable.
In other news...
My pillows and amazing blankets and surprises from my mom came in the mail! All of which I schlepped onto the subway at 1 in the morning after work like a true middle aged hobo. But still! They came!
I think I found the dog I want to adopt. He's amazing. I would post a picture of him here, but I'm afraid that by the time I am able to apply to adopt him, he will have been adopted. The organization has a very quick adoption rate and I won't be ready for at least the next week. Fingers are crossed. That little man is like a dream.
Fast Forward____To Tonight. Er, This Morning. I Mean, I Just Got Home From Work and It's 5:30. It's not Snakes On a Plane Guy Day Anymore. But here are some arbitrary things...
This dog, this soul-mate-dream-boat of a dog, will wait for me. He has to, right? I can't get to nowhere New Jersey for at least a week to meet him, but of God exists and knocking on wood counts, he'll be un-adopted until I get there. His name is Serge, by the way.
I realized as I was in the kitchen with a giant knife that I will always always cut apart the plastic rings from six packs. No sea turtles are going to get strangled on my watch.
Who is Murphy, from Murphy's Law fame? Either that guy had the shittiest life ever, or he bestowed shittiness onto all those who surrounded him. I do know that Murphys Law is always pretty much true, and as I examined tonight while at my hanging-on-by-a-thread job that it has always been the case that in jobs, when I screw up, the only person around who really sees it, is my boss. And no matter how many times I say "I've never done that before" it never sounds like the truth. Murphy, we've got beef.
A drunk man tonight in a festive Hawaiian shirt sat with me for a long time at the bar. And though he didn't tip me well, and spoke pretty undiscernable english by the end of the night, he said something that I wished could have been commemorated on some kind of mug or giant button. He pulled me close to him, and grabbed my arm very firmly, and said "You are the prettiest bartender in all the land". Now, let me clarify. I was not so blown away by the
"prettiest" part, because I know that's a blatant lie, or hollow attempt at flattery (if anyone can look simultaneously like a 12 year old boy, a cabbage-headed lesbian, and a drag queen, it's me) but it was the "in the land" part that catapulted me onto a higher plane of good-feelingness. "IN the land"? Seriously? It's amazing, it's like there are still princesses in pointy caps running around, and jousts at the end of the night on fancy steeds, and rolling moores that midgets and hobbits live in. Yes! I am the most something In-All-The-Land. What a majestic categorization. Hey, kind of large drunk guy, I think you just evolved the whole compliment system tonight. So thank you. (or I am too easily impressed which may or may not be the case considering the crowd at my bar).
I got home tonight and there were a couple of presumably drunk boys throwing debunked paper airplanes off of the roof. They threw one at me and shouted "come make paper airplanes with us!" And I thought, "You know what drunk boys? I think I will."
My roomates are amazing. I got home and one of them showered me with beer. The other one was sprawled out like an X on our still communal bed. They were both half naked (the heat, not the anything else). And they both like happiness, and sharing music, and hugging, and watching our out-of-control tv< and making movies, and having adventures. Though this space might still look somewhat like a crack den, at least the people in it are the kind of awesome gentlemen you can call at 4 in the morning to bail you out of jail in New Mexico, and you know they'll fly out and do it, with a slew of jokes, a case of beer, and some pictures of puppies. They're the kind of guys who, acumuatively, kind of make other boys you want to date look like lardos with 1,000s of dollars in Blockbuster fines. I don't know, maybe not that, but they're something else, that's for sure.
Hillary Duff is inspirational.
My mom is coming on Wednesday. Five days until the launch of the happiest hug of the past six months. She is the biggest little wonder that ever lived.
Now, onto paper airlanes, and pretending my friday night still has a hour or two left in it.
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