I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

Hey weirdos, are you starting to get that good ol’ patriotic feeling? I’ve been inexplicably craving watermelon and cheap beer all week, which means July is around the corner. Are you all going to light things on fire? By “things” I mean fireworks, not small children or parked cars. I have a confession to make. I don’t really like fireworks. While I’m confessing my deepest darkest secrets, add these to the list: I don’t like cheese, mayonnaise or bacon. I only recently saw Pretty in Pink for the first time and I have yet to watch 16 Candles, The Big Lebowski or Goonies. I have strong feelings of dislike for Kelly Clarkson for no apparent reason. Ok, I feel a lot better now that all of those things are out in the open. Anybody still with me?

How is it Thursday night already? I’m lying on my bed, staring up at a giant flying insect of some sort, trying to piece together exactly what I’ve been up to. Answer: absolutely nothing. My human interaction has been limited to co-workers, clients and service industry workers. I think I spent the majority of my free time in this exact position either staring at my computer screen or the wall. Mostly the wall because my processing capabilities have been nil. I’ve also spent an inordinate amount of time worrying about parasites. I’m 99% sure (after some thorough investigating) that my itching is an allergic reaction. However, the 1% of my brain screaming “Holy fuck you’re being eaten alive by parasitic monsters while you sleep!!” is pretty nagging.

You guys, bed bugs totally give me the creeps. I mean, I’m sure nobody gets excited about the prospect of bed bugs. But seriously, they drive me to psychosomatic symptoms. I could be sitting in a sterile bubble, but if my mind wandered into bed bug territory I would start itching like crazy and probably break out in hives. I have photographic evidence of said hives. I would post them, but they’re on my upper/inner thigh and borderline pornographic.

Due to my psychosis I haven’t slept much this week. My thoughts feel a little wobbly, but I’m stringing them together. I’m so tired that I watched a Kristen Stewart movie to fall asleep and ended up paying rapt attention through the whole damn thing. I even got misty-eyed during the dramatic climax. You guys. I nearly cried over K-Stew. I mean over something other than the quality of her acting. I don’t want to concern you, but this is serious.

I’m lonely this week. I miss my family and my friends and maybe I don’t quite miss my old routine, but I certainly miss having a routine.

Soon one of my very best friends in this world will get older. I mean, we’ll all be older soon, but it’ll be her birthday. Official. This Saturday is her birthday party and I would give a lot of things to be there for it. I don’t even know how to explain what she means to me, and I’m usually pretty good at this whole “words” thing.

She was the first one to know I was gay. In fact, she knew a good long while before I did. We spent one whole summer topless on my couch. We got MIPs together, and will forever rue July 9^th and all people born on that particular date… Just kidding! You’re all ok I guess. We smoked clove cigarettes (back when cloves were still cigarettes) under vagina tree. We talked and talked and talked. Talked about parents, friends, lovers and potential lovers. Talked about fucking up, about breaking up, about falling down and falling apart. We smoked cloves on the front stoop while snow fell through dirty streetlamp halos. Talked about dreams and god and what the fuck we’re all doing here. Talked about sex. Talked about exes. The night I fell apart she gave me a bear lighter, told me not to lose it. She’s always been better at keeping track of my pieces than I am. She’s always been better at putting me back together. The night before I left, she told me not to buy drugs. Told me she loved me not in spite of what we’ve been through together, but because of it.

Remember smoking cloves in the field and the fireworks falling so close I thought we'd die? Remember when I drank a whole bottle of vodka alone and cried and when you came over you let me lay my head in your lap? Or when my little sister put you dead center in her Life Book, and my mom still asks about you all the time... Remember when we were watching Gia and the friendship balloon escaped out the screen door, which distracted us momentarily from the tragedy of AIDS? Eating sushi after floating the river, and washing it down with a shared bottle of Pepto? Or when we watched Hairspray on repeat and I cut off the tip of my thumb cutting limes to chase the tequila. Remember that time you caught yourself with your forehead, and I got sent home from work and everything was so fucked up, but we laughed about it anyways? What the hell else were we supposed to do. 

We’ve been through a hell of a lot together. You mean the world to me, and I love you. Come to this town so we can paint it rainbow? I miss you. Chicken Run fo’ life.

Alright kids, I think I might finally be able to sleep. How are you all? Are you still out there? Are you able to sleep at night? Do you have people you miss, and big lonely feelings? Do you love Chicken Run as much as I do? I hope you’re all living the dream, whatever that means to you.

I love you all. Happy birthday, KJNS.

-b