I’ve been smelling formaldehyde somewhere today.
I think the smell’s coming from the brand new folders that all the cases are put into. Gov’t issue stuff always smells like preservatives for a few years or so.
For once, we actually celebrated Halloween. Since the passing of the Bad Old Days*, and all the mental scars gained through some people’s sick little rituals, we haven’t put much effort into that particular holiday. However, our cup runneth over this week-end.
There was a going-away party for John on Friday. Dirk and I got into a fight on the way there, mainly because I had a bad feeling about the night and didn’t want to go. The party started off fine, with Joe, John and Dirk playing a drinking game that involved a deck of cards. Dirk was losing, badly, because he’s not familiar with drinking games, but it was all in good fun.
The continuing sour note, however, was Marie. She kept giving Joe dirty looks, even though he wasn’t doing anything to her. My informed analysis of the situation is that she was pissed that Joe wasn’t paying constant attention to her, even though it was John’s going away party. She was also pissed, I’m sure, that he was drinking, even though he made sure it was okay with her a week in advance. In other words, she was being a controlling bitch without ever opening her mouth.
The worst ones can do that, you know.
Joe was getting more and more frustrated, especially when Marie started refusing to talk to him. She started calling all her friends in New Mexico; when Joe tried to engage her in conversation, she went into the bathroom, locked the door, and turned on the water. Joe came outside onto the back porch where we were smoking (and discussing what a bitch Marie is, if you must know) and vented some steam, then went back inside to talk to Marie.
Still pretending he wasn’t there, she went online and continued to ignore him.
Joe came outside and had a complete fit, because this was apparently something that happened very often. He told us that there was always something he was doing wrong. It was damn near impossible for him to do anything right, and she always made him pay. Somehow. Granted, he was screaming this at us and punching the wooden fence, but we got the gist. Marie locked all of us out of the house while this was happening, which didn’t make Joe any calmer.
John eventually went in through the front door, went down to Joe’s room, yelled at Marie, and let us all back in. Marie was sitting on Joe’s bed acting like nothing was wrong. Joe’s mom (who’d been talking to Joe all this time), came down and told us all to go home, except for Aaron.
Aaron and Joe are on about the same level of emotional maturity, so they tend to be closer. Aaron’s also a lot better at telling people they should be martyrs instead of facing up to reality and what it’s going to be like to stay with some controlling bitch just because she happens to be breeding. After all, he was going to stay with Sonia, even though she gave him as much respect as a moldy turd. Not that I’m bitter or anything.
I just get sick of Aaron’s know-it-all attitude where life, cars, and relationships are concerned. He hasn’t even begun to live yet.
Anyway, we left Aaron there because John promised us he’d get him home and went back to Dirk’s house. We went to sleep, accidentally, and I woke up a good hour and a half after I was supposed to be home. My mother was not pleased, but she didn’t stay pissed for very long. I think she’s starting to make allowances for human error.
Practice seemed to drag on without Joe (who’d cleared skipping this one a week in advance so that he could spend the day with John). We took a lot of breaks and filled Nikki in on the party happenings. Aaron also told us that Joe’s mom made Joe, John, and Aaron go out somewhere so she could bitch out Marie. I almost wish I’d been there to see that, if only because it always makes me sick when a guy’s mother sticks up for the girlfriend over their own son. Nikki’s brother invited us all to a party up at his house in Waldorf (MD). Aaron couldn’t come because he’d stayed out all night with Joe and John.
We got horribly lost because his brother doesn’t know how to give directions. We spent about 45 minutes looking for a barn on the right side of the house with a mobile on the left side. It never materialized. We ended up calling him from this grim-looking road-house called Jimmie’s Corner and waiting for him to come get us.
Nikki’s brother lives in a nice house right on the waterfront. There’s a beach within three minutes’ walking distance from his front door. His brother was into Coal Chamber and Korn, but we ignored those differences. There was plenty of liquor and/or pot to go ‘round, and I knew that all I had to do to buy the time to sober up was to call my folks.
I think the drink they gave me was 2/3 vodka to 1/3 pink lemonade. You couldn’t taste the lemonade; the drink just looked intriguingly pink. I talked to the Nikki’s sister-in-law while the boys were playing the PlayStation and comparing bands. Nikki’s brother’s a drummer in a band, so Dirk and Nikki were talking to him about clubs and stuff in Maryland. I had a couple (!) hits from the bong, then we walked out to the beach.
It had tiny little pebbles instead of sand, although I suppose sand is just made up of much smaller pebbles. They’d brought along the pit bull, Toby, who wasn’t barking as madly as when Dirk and I first walked in the house. I'd always thought pit bulls were vicious and unpredictable; Toby would bark and then flinch so you wouldn’t swat him. He’s a beggar; that dog has the “neglected” look down pat.
The alcohol cleared out of my blood kind of quick, since I only had the one drink. That was just enough to make me talkative. The pot just made me feel warm and a little giggly. I waited a few hours for everything to clear out of my system, then we drove home. Nikki’s brother & his wife were urging us to stay the night so we could have breakfast with them in the morning, but my parents weren’t having any of it. I made sure to leave a note thanking them for inviting us because they were already in bed when we left.
We got home at about 4:30; I went to bed immediately afterwzrd.
We just ran errands on Sunday; we went to borders and talked to Greg. I ran into Miranda in the bathroom and she gave me a hug because I looked unhappy. I don’t think we’re the reason Greg left the band. I think it’s exclusively Aaron. I wonder if he’s part of the reason Doshu left, too.
Marie’s probably going back to New Mexico very soon. When Aaron called yesterday to find out if Joe wanted to go to a show at the Kaffa House with him, Marie asked him to call back because she was booking her flight. We’re not sure of anything right now because Aaron hasn’t talked to Joe and we already knew she’d be going back sometime, at least for a visit during the holidays.
I’m craving Chinese food right now, preferably the chicken LoMein from SamPan.
* The term, The Bad Old Days refers to the period of time during which I dated my ex, and several months afterwards. You had to be there, really, to understand. I don’t know what I was thinking when I took up with him.
