picnic basket case

1. sunday was the club picnic. it was at my boss's daughter's house and it was SO sweet. i loved seeing all the girls' kids and partners. i felt sad that i was there stag, but a few other girls were, too, so at least i didn't stand out.

[haha i can't believe i just used the word "stag." my mom used to use that word all the time and it drove me NUTS!!!

she'd go, "there's a dance at your school on friday night, are you going to go?"

"no."

"why NOT? you're supposed to be doing these kinds of things. you're in high school. why can'tcha be NORMAL?!"

"i don't have anyone to go with."

"just go STAG!" she'd say, exasperated. i could tell she thought i meant i didn't have a date to go with, not that i really didn't have even one friend to go with.]

anyway, the picnic: the food was really good. burgers and all that. the people who own the mexican restaurant next door to the club brought over the biggest container of guacamole i've ever seen. i over-ate. i'm not used to having that kind of access to guacamole.

my co-workers are truly rad. i felt kind of choked up looking around and feeling a part of things. like "these girls all like me and i'm not crashing this party, i was invited and people are glad i'm here." i don't feel that way ever lately.

there was a doughnut eating contest, where doughnuts were hung on a string from a clothesline. i thought that powdered doughnuts were an interesting choice for this, kind of an inhalation choking hazard, but still it was fun to watch the kids all trying to munch their doughnuts the fastest without using their hands. when it was the adults' turn, the creepy janitor/handyman was the first one to get in line. he always looks at me so lasciviously while i'm naked in the dressing room, i dunno i just didn't want to see him mouthing a doughnut so i went inside and picked the bacon off the top of a voodoo doughnut.

2. work yesterday was pretty good for a monday morning/afternoon. these two guys came in who were wild and fun. they seemed to have just been released from prison. they didn't say that, but they did say things like,

"i haven't been to a titty bar in 20 years!"

"i've been looking forward to this day for a long time."

"we got off the train, stopped at the bank, and came directly here!"

"he's shy around women."

also they were muscly, in the way that soldiers and convicts usually are from having lots of women-less hours to fill with bodybuilding endeavors.

the ex-cons were the only customers for the early part of the day. they got up and danced for us whenever we played a song they liked. they were clearly high out of their heads. there was an older one who was the boss, and a younger one who was the son type. the older one kept saying, "what do you need, son? to DRINK?" and the son would say, "uh..um... see if they got rootbeer schnapps!" "they don't got rootbeer schnapps." "oh, okay then uh... um... huh. ima need to think about it then." and then the older one would just bring him a long island iced tea. this happened a couple of times and by the time they left, the little one couldn't even sit up straight. i got a little sad to think of him waking up wherever he was going to wake up and starting his free life with a barfy hangover. but i can't think too much about these things. on their way out they gave us each $20, and said "thank you ladies. this was just what we needed!"

after that some girls came in and wanted to audition so i had a nice long break. i sat at the bar and a business guy came in and sat with me. the girls were wild. they were 40 if they were a day, and they looked and acted very speedy. it kind of stressed me out to watch them, all fast and toothless and jerky, so i turned my attention to the customer and got him to buy a couple of dances. and then when he left and the girls left, it was time for me to dance my last set of the day. whew.

i had plans to have sushi with my two friends who are in from out of town. but of course they flaked. they can't just flake outright, though, they have to barrage me with texts and change the plan a million times and ask me to do things they know i can't do, like go with them to a movie at 4:15 when i don't get off work till 4:30. it's the same thing every time. if you're going to flake just do it, don't try to disguise it with a giant amount of extreme annoyance.

so i took myself to sushi. and then came home. and was at a loss. NOW WHAT, you know? i have a million projects and books. but when i'm feeling lonesome it's hard to motivate. i feel like, "i don't want projects and books, i want hugs and kisses."

cry me a river. waaaa waaaaa. i'm just in a tunnel right now. it's not going to last forever. the thing that worries me, though, is that whenever i go into a lonesome tunnel, i end up coming back out more independent than before, and my heart gets a little less permeable each time too. i don't like to think of myself as a hard-hearted old spinster. on the bright side, if that happens i'll surely be well-read and have a lot of finished projects.