It's the Freakin' Weekend, Pt. 2 (Saturday)

[Hey kittens, here’s Pt. 2 of my long weekend adventure. Hope you’re still with me!]

Saturday

Crawling into my bed at 4:30 Saturday morning, I predicted long restful hours of undisturbed sleep. It’s been a long time since I pulled an all-nighter, and I was planning on milking this one for what it was worth. Unfortunately, me and bod weren’t on the same page. Conditioned into snapping awake every morning at 7 a.m. I managed about four hours of sleep before lurching back into consciousness. Unable to coax my mind back to sleep (considering the sizable number of things I needed to get done) I figured I could at least suck it up and be productive. By “be productive” I mean stumble downstairs and compare headaches with ULOL, then stare at the blinking cursor of a blank Word Document for several hours.

This pathetic display was thankfully interrupted by C dropping off coffee and a flower to brighten my day. Why am I surrounded by such incredible people? It will always surprise and delight me. Being her usual adventurous self, C invited me to a GLOW OUT party downtown that night. Take a second to conceptualize “GLOW OUT party” before we continue. Got an image? There may or may not be actual images at some point further on.

I decided a GLOW OUT was exactly what my muddled little brain needed, because seriously, why wouldn’t it be? First I had a rugby party/graduation/pig roast to attend.

Because sometimes you are a grown-up.

And sometimes you have grown-up friends who become doctors.

And sometimes those grown-up friends who become doctors know people who like to roast 85 lbs. of pig in a pit in their backyard.

So! Equipped with gigantic iced coffees and even bigger appetites, ULOL, roomie and I made the trek into deep Southwest for the celebration. Now, graduation parties can be awkward under the best circumstances. I feel like inviting a gang of rugby hooligans only compounds these situations. Maybe that’s just me? The gang of rugby hooligans at my graduation party... well that’s a story for another time. This friend’s family was extraordinarily gracious. We were fed, imbibed and left to our own entertainment devices.  I even packed home a 2 lb. bag of meat, which has been feeding me for the last 6 days! I just want to say: Thank you Dr, I know you are off into the great wide world to do big things (like save lives) and I wish you my very, very best.

Speaking of rugby players, damn we’re a bunch of weirdos! Here is the abridged version of a true story from Maggotfest:

·         Two Girl Scouts and a hotdog try to walk through the Taco Bell drive-through, and are denied their 4^th meal due to some stupid law, or something.

·         One drunken Girl Scout decides this is intolerable. So she waits until the next car is reaching for their order, and attempts to intercept said bag of goodies and make a clean escape.

·         Attempted interception somehow ends in the Girl Scout holding two girls by the hair with Taco Bell guts dripping down her face.

·         After drunken Girl Scout is booked for assault, the “victim” is too distraught to provide a report of the incident, and just continues sobbing: Ask the hotdog! The hotdog saw everything!

Seriously. This is my real grown-up life. I couldn’t make these things up if I tried. After consuming indecent quantities of food and a lengthy discussion about the pros and cons of LARPing, it was time to mob downtown for the GLOW party.

When you pictured a GLOW PARTY earlier, I hope you imagined plenty of partial nudity, fluorescent colorsand light-reactive body paint. Upon arrival I was promptly painted, handed a beer and diving into the fray. The DJ was experimenting with some pretty interesting beats, some hybrid Franken-beat of dubstep and 20’s parlor music. Needless to say, it lent itself to plenty of wild hand movements and leg-kicking. Totally my scene. Add in circus performers, day-glo hula hoops and belly dancing? Marvelous. 

At the end of the night, we dragged our exhausted, painted arms and legs off the dance floor and piled into the Craft mobile. Back at the Craft House, we gathered a heap of blankets and opted to sleep on the deck futon. Falling asleep to birdsong two nights in a row, my sleepy little bod sank into the void. 

Stay posted for Sunday! 

All my love.

-b

[P.S. You guys! Last night I saw Andrea Gibson and Tara Hardy perform at the 2410 down on Mississippi. Swoon. I am going to be a poet when I grow up, ok? Ok]