mychai's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ah, the pleasures of online newspapers! I learned a valuable lesson last night: When someone mixes your drinks at a party, and the drinks quickly go from "burns throat" stage to "will remove rust" stage, you should keep a much closer count of how many drinks you are injesting. There is this girl -- let's call her Carrie -- who likes her liquor. This mixed with the fact that over two years ago I accidentally dumped an entire glass of ice water in her lap, and I think she still holds a bit of a grudge about it and now does subtle things to get me back, makes for a very interesting night of drinking. "Carrie" was the bartender at last night's homecoming party. She goes to Canada for work a lot and gets a lot of duty-free alcohol. She made me a drink I like to call Two Types Of Vodka. The ingredients are two flavors of Absolute. That's about it. Four drinks like this, mixed with a 5:00am work time, and I end up wishing for the sweet taste of Death's kiss. So, I send a heartfelt "damn you, Carrie!" And, as a postscript, I also send a "can't wait for another of those green apple things you made!" I never said I didn't enjoy it while it lasted. Let's just do it on a non-work night next time. So... heh. Heh heh heh. That's my "evil, sinister, life is funnier than fiction" laugh that I use when people at parties point me to very interesting snippets of local media. What makes it even sweeter is that, when he is telling me about this article, I am thinking, "This is soooo going on my diary." Stay tuned, folks. You are going to Do you recall the recurring storyline about the now infamous live-in girlfriend of two years I had with the girl we call Mandy the Psycho Lesbian Ex? You know the one... she was on the, umm, straight-and-narrow for the two years we were together until a schoolbus squashed her good and the hospital OD'd her on morphine. Somewhere between looking at the underside of a schoolbus and almost meeting her maker, she decided that guys weren't her thing. Some of you didn't believe me. I get emails allllllll of the time saying something like, "That thing about your ex isn't real, is it? You're just bitter and are making it up, right?" I usually say no and they are all like, "I'm so sorry!" Unless they are guys. Almost always, the guys continue with, "Dude, you sooo have an in to a great threesome!" Not only does that kind of thing not turn me on in the least, but... ewww. Anyway, one of our local newspapers -- a student (albeit professional and completely ad-driven) newspaper for which I used to write -- did a feature story about coming out on campus. You know... confirming publicly you are playing for the other team. And, because God loves me and is good to me in every way, this article is in its entirety online. Complete with pictures. Wanna see it? Want to see the dreaded Mandy the Lesbian Ex? Here is the article. On the second page (entitled "The Date"), Mandy the Psycho Lesbian Ex is the one on the left pondering with Butch Cassidy when they should egg my car again. What sucks is that the coffee shop they are in is one of my favorite places for a cup of joe. I can never write in there again. But now I have proof. Y'all can no longer send me emails of disbelief. On a side note... I just did a Google search for the phrase "Mandy the Psycho Lesbian Ex" and this diary doesn't even register in the first three pages. Oi. No wonder I don't get many hits each day. So, yeah. I made it back to Missouri safely. The plane trips were, unfortunately for you, very routine and uneventful. I even had entire rows to myself. So boring. I even found myself hoping some very weird guy would sit by me, eat peanuts and jizz himself. But no such luck. I just slept. I did have a three-hour layover in Cincinnati. I called ahead and got this really hot girl to meet me there. We went for breakfast and rode around for a good hour and a half. The good news is that I'm not lying about this. The bad news: she was my cousin. Once again, I have nothing of interest to report. I did have fun on my trip home. I ended up hanging out a good bit with a great friend from high school named Lish. I've come to realize as of late that the people I am most drawn to are the ones who laugh from the bottom of their soul. Lish has this really great laugh. On my last night home, we went to my old highschool's football game. The weather was less than perfect -- monsoon-like. It seriously rained over 3" during the game. I was drenched down to my leapord-print underwear. But it was fun. Lish and I played "echo" where you say things as quickly as you can after the other person has said it. We had fun with words like "penis," "crusty," and "jockstrap." Picayune people are a bit prudish and gave us looks. So, we had to quit. But we had fun. It was good to hook up with an old friend again. I hadn't spent much time with her since... oh... 1995. Well, that's it for me. I start school tomorrow. Good news! No Hell Day this quarter. I have my classes very evenly spread out. This is a first. I am taking an upper-level creative writing course. So, guess who will be reading some of my school assigments! You betcha. 9:13 p.m. - Sun., Oct. 27, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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