The Aftershow: Year in Review Pt. 1

Because I am a terrible narcissist, I frequently imagine my life as a popular reality t.v. show. Something along the lines of The Real L-Word meets Meerkat Manor, with a touch of My Strange Addiction. As such, it dismays me that too many things happen in a year to give each its own episode/due attention. 

So consider this post the After Show: a two hour special where the producers reveal everything you miss when life is pared down into a 45-minute-sans-commercials segment. I’ve also included a handy index of posts so you can see what I think the most important parts of last year were, because insight guys. Don’t you want to know how my brain works? God knows I do.

Welcome to Important Shit You Missed, 2013 Edition (Part 1).

January

If asked to list my expectations for January 2013, I guarantee the answer would not have included “standing in the bathroom with my friend of 14 days, telling rugby horror stories in an attempt to make her throw up”. But that’s exactly where I found myself: propped against the sink recounting tales of Flaming Assholes. And rookies at their first social, weeping and crawling through their own vomit. Or unsuspecting hotel guests standing in urine every time they used the elevator.

After 15 minutes of unsuccessful dry-heaving, my new friend asked for a paper towel. Eager to accommodate, I turned to the dispenser. This is where things went awry. There were clearly paper towels on the roll, taunting me through the opaque cover. Horribly inaccessible. I turned the plastic dial, which clicked ineffectually and yielded nothing. In a last ditch effort, I attempted to pry open the front cover.

You guys. It practically flew off the wall into my arms. After a half second of shocked silence, I turned around still holding the paper towel dispenser. High-pitched, hysterical laugh. Scramble to hide the evidence. Discover broom closet, dump. Run. 

And in that moment, a long and glorious friendship was born.

(see also: Stone Soup 3+3, Pilgrimage)

February

One night stands are an awkward thing, even under the best circumstances. Compounding factors: 1) you were not one of the two people having raucous sex until 3:30am, 2) the stranger refuses to leave graciously very early the next morning, 3) you are harangued into dragging your hangover to brunch as social insulation against a potential Stage 5 clinger. 

Me: Ok, who’s driving?

ONS: I can drive like I’m retarded because I have a handicap decal…

Everybody: Sold.

Sometimes magic happens the morning after National Margarita Day, when your head feels like a bowling ball and you’re trying not to vomit in a stranger’s backseat. That fateful February morning we discovered Tik Tok for the first time.

Tik Tok is a 24-hour eatery with a full bar, located on 82^nd Avenue next to the scenic Unicorn Inn. It’s the sort of establishment where you can order fried pickles every weekend for two months, and they’ll still forget the ranch dressing.  It’s a place where your waitress might ask “What the fuck are you [insensitive slur of choice] doing?” just because you decided to eat an entire meal without using your thumbs. They don’t judge our hysterical bouts of hungover giddiness, or the inevitable 11am round of Tik Tok Shots. They just bake us homemade cookies, and love us for the hot mess we are. 

(see also: Valentine’s Day)

March 

March 2013 lives in infamy as the Season of the Plague. Literally everybody had mono, and I became mono-gamous. Because puns, you guys. They’re a real issue for me. We also established the first annual Pi Day celebration. I assume it will be an annual celebration because traditions are important. Particularly traditions that involve the people I love and also eating pie. [Note: when Friend and I get married we’ll have a variety of wedding pies. And probably a meat buffet + BBQ fountain, but that’s neither here nor there.]

Also, Megan Fox calls her vagina a “pie”, which makes lesbians celebrating Pi Day by eating pie that much better for me. This year we’ll be celebrating multiple Pi Babies. I anticipate upper echelon revelry. Although I’m not sure anything can top Dr. Jill’s story last year. You know, the one about a raccoon with distemper using a hot coal to masturbate.   

(see also: Time Lapse)

April

Did this month even really happen? I literally cannot conjure a single memory from April 2013. Probably this is when the government programmed me to be a sleeper agent in their war against terrorism. Alternatively, tequila. Just kidding, government. Please don't have me assassinated. 

If you remember April 2013, and any role I played in it... get at me, bro. 

(see also: Angst)

May 

Last May I flew home to officiate my friend Dee’s recommitment ceremony, which meant one week in sunny Missoula Montana. I’ve known Dee since I was a lovesick baby gay. She married Adam in 2011, and they adopted Lucy and I (AKA we had weekly double dates that involved home cooked meals and True Blood). 

Following an uneventful one year anniversary, Dee decided to surprise Adam with a small ceremony for their second anniversary. She rented a room at the Gibson Mansion, complete with cake, champagne, and Frank Sinatra radio. I flew in under the radar to give a surprise speech.

The entire experience was surreal and bittersweet. I stayed on the Northside, killing time during the day and catching up with Lucy on the last 6 months every evening. The day of the ceremony time became erratic, moving too slow and too fast at the same time, or stopping altogether. A picture: our four backs on a balcony, hands on our hips, shoulders just touching. Our faces looking into tomorrow.

I keep the pictures in an envelope on my bookshelf. I take them out when I need to unbelieve reality.

(see also: Alpaca Expo)

June 

This is the episode where 10 hooligans travel down the coast to Waldport, Oregon. Hijinks ensue. 

Also I could tell you a story about drinking too much Fanta/vodka (gross) and the 20+ minutes I wandered downtown, searching for somewhere to vomit. But who really wants to hear about Pride weekend anyways? 

(see also: Vortex of Self-Destruction, Dances with Bears)

So there you have it. Stay tuned for the second edition of Important Shit You Missed, 2013 Edition (set to debut whenever I get my act together)! What do you guys think? Did I miss anything? If you created a Top Twelve of Twenty-Thirteen, what would make the cut? What’s the worst thing you’ve ever mixed with vodka? Do we really wonder, wonder what's in a WonderBall? 

Give me your answers and maybe I’ll give you something. Or nothing. Or something.

All my love, creeps.

-b