magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

I really tried to get drunk last night, as, at the very least, a defence mechanism, but my body was having none of it, processing the alcohol about a quickly as I could drink it. Sure, by the time that I got home at 4:00AM, combined with the lack of sleep, it had lowered my inhibitions to the point that I was willing to write about the party, although my dialogue-only summation doesn't really convey any sense of what was actually going on in my head.

I climbed into bed around 5:00, the clock on my VCR still reading the Daylight time of 6:00, and slept for an entirely unrefreshing four and a half hours, dreaming abstract anxiety dreams of black and white geometries, of frayed edges and inky pools. Four and a half hours of sad, empty, meaningless repetitions. And although still thoroughly exhausted at 9:30 this morning, could no longer face the inside of my eyelids and got out of bed.

Distracted briefly around midday, when I took Chesterfield to the vet. A new vet, who I immediately liked more than the old one. I didn't have any bad experiences with the old vet's office (although I had read a few horror stories online) but never really got the feeling that they actually cared all that much for the welfare of my cat, so I thought that I would, for her sake, and my own, see what else was out there. The new vet seems very nice and thorough, and had some thoughtful and helpful things to say about caring for an FeLV+ cat in general and Chesterfield in particular.

Chesterfield needed another tooth pulled, the vet told me that for a cat with recurring gum infections there was a pretty good chance that she would eventually lose all her teeth, but that for a domesticated cat that is not really all that much of a hardship. While she was having the dental work done I met up with Dan and we walked around Washington Heights for about an hour.

Back home, I put last night's party pictures online. I'm not so keen on reliving the evening, but I know that other people are interested in the photos. Watched the newest episode of Battlestar Galactica. But now I'm completely back inside my head.

---

I called Chris to wish him a happy birthday proper. 'Thanks,' he said. 'I read your blog today and I don't actually remember saying everything that you quoted. I mean, I remember the important parts, but well, I guess I was pretty drunk. I had already drunk quite a bit of wine before I got there.' I told him about my own inability to get drunk last night. 'You were just drinking beer though, right?'

'And that one vegan absinthe jello-shot.'

'Those had absinthe in them? That's why they tasted so bad.'

'Well, there were a whole number of reasons why they tasted bad, but that was a contributing factor.' [As an aside, Abi, if you're reading this, I totally appreciate the thought behind the vegan jello-shots, and I know that Chris does too. It's just that they really weren't very good. Maybe add sugar next time, and some artificial flavouring. Kool-aid mix, maybe.] 'But no, I just never really got drunk.'

'Did you at least have a good night, overall?'

'I had kind of a terrible night, actually.'

'But you had a cool costume.'

'I guess there's that. And if I had managed to get drunk I probably would be worse off for it today.'

'So what was so bad? Other than the obvious..'

'That was really the main thread. It was just awkward. And then sort of uncomfortable towards the end of the night. I sort of feel that the only way sh e really could have expressed expressed less interest would have been to say the words "I'm just not really all that interested," but I was having a really hard time reading her. And then there wasn't really any sort of goodnight or goodbye or anything, and Nick told me I should come along, but I think that just would have been even more awkward.'

'Nick was apparently totally confused about what was happening. At least according to Christian.'

'Yeah, I wasn't exactly clear about what I was thinking. I just sort of put him in the middle of all my drama. Or, more accurately, he just sort of walked into the middle of all my drama.'

'He's definitely a nice guy. I'm sure that he would oblige if you said, "Don't fuck this thing up for me."'

'And I almost did say something like that. But I don't know. That somehow seems wrong. And I left it all kind of vague, and I'm sure he was confused as to exactly what was going on.'

I didn't actually have any intention of talking about last night when I called Chris. I had actually even practised saying something like, 'I really don't want to talk about that right now,' in case he brought it up. But it kind of feels good to be able to talk stuff out. We went on to discuss other issues pertaining to girls, in relation to both of our lives. Disappointment all around is the recurring thematic structure, but we were able to laugh at it some.

'Well, enjoy what's left of your birthday,' I told him. 'I assume that you're just drinking at home.'

'And making a sandwich.'

'Well, all the best. Truly.'