Lara I. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
exhilaration) wrote2009-10-25 03:26 pm
exhilaration) wrote2009-10-25 03:26 pm
Out And About
Well, so, the other day I was sleeping in my boyfriend's old bedroom (again) - I sleep there a lot, cause we can't really both sleep on the couch together, and if I've been drinking (which usually I have) I'm not really interested in driving back home. I'm not interested in another DUI. And so, the next morning, I woke up to my phone going off - someone was texting me. So I looked at the text, and it was from B, and I was like wtf? I am in your house, if you are texting me, then where are you?
The text said to wake up and come have breakfast. And I was like, really? You made breakfast? And he most certainly did. So it was me and B having breakfast and drinking coffee again, just like old times. Except it was at his house. And he didn't go for an early-morning surf beforehand. But it was close enough.
And then, and then, you see, he asked me if I would mind driving him a few places - I was like, uh huh, I see, you made me breakfast cause you want something in exchange. Which is fine - I like being made breakfast and I certainly don't mind driving him places, I mean, he did it for me way more than he ever had to, and besides, what else am I going to do? It's not like I have a job or anything...
I doubt very much he could drive even if he wanted to (he doesn't, and of course he has no car anyway) cause something is really wrong with is eye. He looks a little cross-eyed sometimes (which I very, very tactfully pointed out...) and he says the one doctor told him he'd have trouble focusing for a little while, so seeing blurry and seeing double didn't really concern him much at first, but - this has to be why looking at the TV bothers him, and why trying to read gives him a massive headache. In fact, this has got to be the reason for the massive headaches to begin with. This isn't a matter of focusing, something is really wrong with his eye. He was supposed to see the face doctor in November for a follow-up but now he's got another appointment this week, because something clearly isn't right.
So... we went to the bank, and then we went to the grocery store because the scrambled eggs he made for breakfast was the last of the eggs, last of the milk, and last of the butter, and the coffee we drank was the last of the coffee. I'm wondering if B doesn't do most of the food shopping at his house. Kinda seems like it. It was nice to get out of the house - we walked around the neighborhood a few different times, and went to the park nearby, but that's pretty much been it. I wanted to go to the movies, but he said he'd either get a headache from looking at the screen or fall asleep five minutes into it. So, no movie.
We also went to the Halloween store, because we went to a Halloween party this weekend - I was a pirate. Pirate is a good costume for me, right? Not a sexy pirate, a dirty pirate. A dude pirate. I bought the Captain Jack Sparrow costume last fall (the children's size, of course...) when it was on sale, and I got a pirate wig to go with it, and some pirate-y things to go with it like a red scarf and a leather belt (I cut the costume apart - it came with the jacket attached to a "shirt" with a "belt" around it - I wore the jacket over a real linen shirt with a real scarf and a real belt) and I hung all sorts of stuff from the belt - a locket on a chain (not an antique) and a, hm, this fancy vial made of a conch shell with a screw-off top that ladies in the olden days (around the time when pirates ran the seas) put "stuff" in. Not gonna lie - I used to keep itty bitty pills in there, myself. Never coke, though, although that was probably its intended use. And that was an antique. And I wore a bunch of Indian jewelry that a grad student from India gave me when she was cleaning out her studio - so I looked like a pirate who had traveled the seas and all that. At the Halloween store I bought some facial hair to go with my costume, just to make it clear that I was a dude pirate, not a chick pirate. Any ladies that were pirates back in the day dressed in men's clothing and definitely passed off as men whenever they could anyway.
B was a zombie. Ha ha, right? He has been saying he looks like a zombie so that's what he has to be for Halloween - he doesn't look much like a zombie anymore, really, although I guess the scar on his head looks pretty freaky. He was like, I still look like shit, and I was like, only because you have no hair, darling, and you did that to yourself. Under his eyes is still really bruised, but greenish-bruised, not like black and purple. He's got scars around his eye but they're fading really well, and his whole face is still a little swollen. Not enough to look misshapen, really, but enough to make him not look quite like himself. But still not like a zombie. But with a zombie costume... yeah. It worked pretty well.
And so we went to this Halloween party this weekend with a bunch of people from work - it was pouring rain but Bobby, the guy who had the party, had a big tarp set up in his yard and a fire pit in the center of it and hay bales all around it. So the party was pretty much everyone sitting around the fire pit, in costume, talking and drinking and smoking. So, slightly drunk Lara, and of course all these people were passing some stuff around, you know, stuff in a pipe, and I would have loved to have joined in but of course I did not. I guess it doesn't really matter - it's not that big of a deal, really. I'm not so in love with the good herb that I can't live without it. I would have liked to have some, though.
B fell asleep around eleven, after we'd been there for like... an hour or so. He, of course, did smoke, and I think it just knocked him out. I figured I'd just let him sleep for a while rather that try to make him wake up - and so I just sat around talking with all these people from work and it was... weird. It was weird when I realized (again) that they all went to middle school together, and even if they weren't friends back then, of course they all hang out now because they work together, and they were talking about these teachers and other kids they knew and stuff - Bobby mentioned a girlfriend and I was like, wait, Bobby, you had a girlfriend? And he was like, actually, I had eight girlfriends. And another girl chimed in and was like, yeah, and he always went for girls with giant asses. I was like wow. (Bobby's gay and married and he's been married ever since I've known him, so at least three years) And then they all started talking about how everyone knew Bobby was gay before he even knew and I was just like, hmmm, is anyone really an individual anymore? Cause I went to school with a kid "like him," who everyone thought was gay except for him - he's married now too. To an older man, just like Bobby.
And then somehow they got to talking about stuff Bobby used to wear, and then what everyone used to wear, and someone said "swish pants" and I was like, wtf were swish pants? And they were like, in eighth grade, everybody wore them, you know, swish pants! And it dawned on me that when they were all in eighth grade together, I was... probably eighteen, or nearly so. And I felt really old. And I think "swish pants" must be wind pants, or gym pants, or whatever. Were they ever really a fashion? Was there really a time where everyone wore them to school? Well, what do I know? Apparently, in 2002, here in South Jersey, they were.
At that point I noticed that B was awake again and kind of just staring at the fire pit, and I was like, are you high? And he was like, very. And I feel old. I'm older than these guys. (Youngest person there was 19, I think everyone else was 20 and 21...) And I was like, shush, I'm older than you are. And he was like, I need to get the fuck out of Jersey, this place just sucks you in.
Yeah. There was one person older than me who was there. I think she's in her thirties - and I'm not saying that's old. I'm just saying... when I'm thirty five, am I going to be working in a restaurant still? And going to parties after work with people fifteen years younger than I am? Am I gonna do that because that's all there is to do around here, or is there more that I just don't know about? Am I gonna do that because that's what my maturity level will be stuck at? Am I gonna be perpetually 21 in my head, like this girl seems to be? I mean... she hangs out with these people all the time, and they all drink and smoke and go out together - if I don't get out of here, is that going to be me someday?
And we were like, let's leave, and everyone was like, are you okay to drive? And I was like, no, I'm totally not, my car isn't here anyway, it's at JJ's. Honestly? I'm sure I appeared drunker than I was. The ground was muddy, really, really badly muddy and I'd have trouble with that sober. But apparently when I stood up I looked a wreck, and everyone was like, is she going to be okay? - to B. And he was like, she's fine, she's just drunk, we're fine, I've got her. Okay, now, I was fine. Drunk, but fine. I didn't fall - I didn't even slip, not even in all that mud and grass and mess. He was absolutely high out of his head. It was so obvious. Does nobody else see how stupid it is for him to get so messed up like that? No. Apparently not. Apparently we all see this as a sign that he's feeling much better, being that he can sit around and have two hits and then pass the fuck out for two hours. Yeah. Awesome. Good going. Very good for your body, way to take care of yourself there.
And JJ took us back to my house - which is very close to Bobby's, and very close to hers - and probably went back to the party then. And B passed right the fuck out once he sat down, and I, I started to sober up a bit and was wide awake, and so I brilliantly decided to drunk-text Hanna. So as you can see, I am brilliant too.
This is my future if I stay here in Jersey. I'm not moving back to Philadelphia just because I have this haloed idea about the city - just because I move there doesn't mean I'll suddenly be someone else. But I CANNOT stay here. ABSOLUTELY NOT.
The text said to wake up and come have breakfast. And I was like, really? You made breakfast? And he most certainly did. So it was me and B having breakfast and drinking coffee again, just like old times. Except it was at his house. And he didn't go for an early-morning surf beforehand. But it was close enough.
And then, and then, you see, he asked me if I would mind driving him a few places - I was like, uh huh, I see, you made me breakfast cause you want something in exchange. Which is fine - I like being made breakfast and I certainly don't mind driving him places, I mean, he did it for me way more than he ever had to, and besides, what else am I going to do? It's not like I have a job or anything...
I doubt very much he could drive even if he wanted to (he doesn't, and of course he has no car anyway) cause something is really wrong with is eye. He looks a little cross-eyed sometimes (which I very, very tactfully pointed out...) and he says the one doctor told him he'd have trouble focusing for a little while, so seeing blurry and seeing double didn't really concern him much at first, but - this has to be why looking at the TV bothers him, and why trying to read gives him a massive headache. In fact, this has got to be the reason for the massive headaches to begin with. This isn't a matter of focusing, something is really wrong with his eye. He was supposed to see the face doctor in November for a follow-up but now he's got another appointment this week, because something clearly isn't right.
So... we went to the bank, and then we went to the grocery store because the scrambled eggs he made for breakfast was the last of the eggs, last of the milk, and last of the butter, and the coffee we drank was the last of the coffee. I'm wondering if B doesn't do most of the food shopping at his house. Kinda seems like it. It was nice to get out of the house - we walked around the neighborhood a few different times, and went to the park nearby, but that's pretty much been it. I wanted to go to the movies, but he said he'd either get a headache from looking at the screen or fall asleep five minutes into it. So, no movie.
We also went to the Halloween store, because we went to a Halloween party this weekend - I was a pirate. Pirate is a good costume for me, right? Not a sexy pirate, a dirty pirate. A dude pirate. I bought the Captain Jack Sparrow costume last fall (the children's size, of course...) when it was on sale, and I got a pirate wig to go with it, and some pirate-y things to go with it like a red scarf and a leather belt (I cut the costume apart - it came with the jacket attached to a "shirt" with a "belt" around it - I wore the jacket over a real linen shirt with a real scarf and a real belt) and I hung all sorts of stuff from the belt - a locket on a chain (not an antique) and a, hm, this fancy vial made of a conch shell with a screw-off top that ladies in the olden days (around the time when pirates ran the seas) put "stuff" in. Not gonna lie - I used to keep itty bitty pills in there, myself. Never coke, though, although that was probably its intended use. And that was an antique. And I wore a bunch of Indian jewelry that a grad student from India gave me when she was cleaning out her studio - so I looked like a pirate who had traveled the seas and all that. At the Halloween store I bought some facial hair to go with my costume, just to make it clear that I was a dude pirate, not a chick pirate. Any ladies that were pirates back in the day dressed in men's clothing and definitely passed off as men whenever they could anyway.
B was a zombie. Ha ha, right? He has been saying he looks like a zombie so that's what he has to be for Halloween - he doesn't look much like a zombie anymore, really, although I guess the scar on his head looks pretty freaky. He was like, I still look like shit, and I was like, only because you have no hair, darling, and you did that to yourself. Under his eyes is still really bruised, but greenish-bruised, not like black and purple. He's got scars around his eye but they're fading really well, and his whole face is still a little swollen. Not enough to look misshapen, really, but enough to make him not look quite like himself. But still not like a zombie. But with a zombie costume... yeah. It worked pretty well.
And so we went to this Halloween party this weekend with a bunch of people from work - it was pouring rain but Bobby, the guy who had the party, had a big tarp set up in his yard and a fire pit in the center of it and hay bales all around it. So the party was pretty much everyone sitting around the fire pit, in costume, talking and drinking and smoking. So, slightly drunk Lara, and of course all these people were passing some stuff around, you know, stuff in a pipe, and I would have loved to have joined in but of course I did not. I guess it doesn't really matter - it's not that big of a deal, really. I'm not so in love with the good herb that I can't live without it. I would have liked to have some, though.
B fell asleep around eleven, after we'd been there for like... an hour or so. He, of course, did smoke, and I think it just knocked him out. I figured I'd just let him sleep for a while rather that try to make him wake up - and so I just sat around talking with all these people from work and it was... weird. It was weird when I realized (again) that they all went to middle school together, and even if they weren't friends back then, of course they all hang out now because they work together, and they were talking about these teachers and other kids they knew and stuff - Bobby mentioned a girlfriend and I was like, wait, Bobby, you had a girlfriend? And he was like, actually, I had eight girlfriends. And another girl chimed in and was like, yeah, and he always went for girls with giant asses. I was like wow. (Bobby's gay and married and he's been married ever since I've known him, so at least three years) And then they all started talking about how everyone knew Bobby was gay before he even knew and I was just like, hmmm, is anyone really an individual anymore? Cause I went to school with a kid "like him," who everyone thought was gay except for him - he's married now too. To an older man, just like Bobby.
And then somehow they got to talking about stuff Bobby used to wear, and then what everyone used to wear, and someone said "swish pants" and I was like, wtf were swish pants? And they were like, in eighth grade, everybody wore them, you know, swish pants! And it dawned on me that when they were all in eighth grade together, I was... probably eighteen, or nearly so. And I felt really old. And I think "swish pants" must be wind pants, or gym pants, or whatever. Were they ever really a fashion? Was there really a time where everyone wore them to school? Well, what do I know? Apparently, in 2002, here in South Jersey, they were.
At that point I noticed that B was awake again and kind of just staring at the fire pit, and I was like, are you high? And he was like, very. And I feel old. I'm older than these guys. (Youngest person there was 19, I think everyone else was 20 and 21...) And I was like, shush, I'm older than you are. And he was like, I need to get the fuck out of Jersey, this place just sucks you in.
Yeah. There was one person older than me who was there. I think she's in her thirties - and I'm not saying that's old. I'm just saying... when I'm thirty five, am I going to be working in a restaurant still? And going to parties after work with people fifteen years younger than I am? Am I gonna do that because that's all there is to do around here, or is there more that I just don't know about? Am I gonna do that because that's what my maturity level will be stuck at? Am I gonna be perpetually 21 in my head, like this girl seems to be? I mean... she hangs out with these people all the time, and they all drink and smoke and go out together - if I don't get out of here, is that going to be me someday?
And we were like, let's leave, and everyone was like, are you okay to drive? And I was like, no, I'm totally not, my car isn't here anyway, it's at JJ's. Honestly? I'm sure I appeared drunker than I was. The ground was muddy, really, really badly muddy and I'd have trouble with that sober. But apparently when I stood up I looked a wreck, and everyone was like, is she going to be okay? - to B. And he was like, she's fine, she's just drunk, we're fine, I've got her. Okay, now, I was fine. Drunk, but fine. I didn't fall - I didn't even slip, not even in all that mud and grass and mess. He was absolutely high out of his head. It was so obvious. Does nobody else see how stupid it is for him to get so messed up like that? No. Apparently not. Apparently we all see this as a sign that he's feeling much better, being that he can sit around and have two hits and then pass the fuck out for two hours. Yeah. Awesome. Good going. Very good for your body, way to take care of yourself there.
And JJ took us back to my house - which is very close to Bobby's, and very close to hers - and probably went back to the party then. And B passed right the fuck out once he sat down, and I, I started to sober up a bit and was wide awake, and so I brilliantly decided to drunk-text Hanna. So as you can see, I am brilliant too.
This is my future if I stay here in Jersey. I'm not moving back to Philadelphia just because I have this haloed idea about the city - just because I move there doesn't mean I'll suddenly be someone else. But I CANNOT stay here. ABSOLUTELY NOT.