01.31.05 - 12:32 p.m.

I found an internet place near my house. It is not very stylish, nor are there tootsie rolls but I can walk there and get some tea along the way. I felt like it took me all week to get over Tuesday night's coke-a-thon. And I'm back to square one in Tired Land.

Did I already write on Thursday? That I went to a bad stereoype of a Big City Public school and got yelled at by a 18 year old crack mom? Did I write about the odd play I went to beyond stoned with a Computer Boy who sucked a bit? I think so... anyway...

Friday: Went boozing with Mrs. Brazil (who also chronicled the evening in a hilarioulsy funny entry). Went to a gallery opening which was pretty fun. I don't go see enough art. I remember living in various cities and going to art openings not only to see art but for free wine and cheese. I must start that up again,especially in my broke state. We went to see a friendster boy's art. I liked it, but he seemed weirded out and uncomfy to talk to. Maybe it was the girlfriend in the corner? I let Mrs. Brazil do most of the talking, although I would've liked to calm the boy down a bit more. We also talked to Thomas. He seemed lovely. I liked all the art types that were there. Wacky satin fuschia pants on a man, big crunchy glasses on the ladies. Style-y. We then proceeded to smoke weed and drink more and I basically got too tired to deal. Not the life of the party, moi.

Saturday: MEGA workout. I think I'm actually starting to see some muscles. Babysitting(yawn)then out. Went to some random bar that had a reggae night. I loved the music and the assortment of people. NOT a place for stylish folk. Very neighborhoody and strange. One of the girls I was with couldn't get with the vibe (she was anxious to be around the 'scene' and, I think, to be with her boyfriend. A small aside that if you agree to hang out with your girlfriends and don't mention that your boy will meet up with you later during the plan making you are NOT aloud to pine for him until Booty Call hours ie. last call.) So we went to another bar where we refused to wait in line just to hear Bon Jovi. So it fell to going to the Same Bar I Always Go To and ogle the latin boys. It doesn't get old, does it? GREAT music, more dancing, more drinking... at one point I was feeling like the Ugly Duckling again and trying to go home. I was persuaded to stay when Fashen-Chang got some boy to give me a massage. Yowza. I was convinced.

We ended up going back to Musclinas house and had a very long coversation about bald balls. Apparently it's only news to me! Everyone else had either shaved themselves or been with guys who had. Musclina says it's a metrosexual thing. Interestingly it's the non-white guys who seem to do it the most. Wow. In anycase there was bad music jamming (we were all too, too loaded)cuddling and talking until 6:30 in the morning. I CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS. I am way to old for this shit. It completely ruined my Sunday. I had all these lofty plans and basically just scraped by and was horrible company to Gonzalgo during a movie and dinner. It felt like jet-lag. I can't even remember what we talked about.

I'm also doing some censoring again about some facts about the weekend. I have great desires to spill all of my secrets on this diary but realize that might not always be in my best interest. Let's just say on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being Nothing At All To Be Guilty About, 10 being Wicked Guilty a 2 happened between Thursday and today. That's all. Just a 2. And I leave ye to ponder.

I need to get some intensive nights of sleep this week....
Paleta la Borracha

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