Oh. Shit. Seriously? There is so much to write about, and I don't even know where to start. Oh wait, yes I do.
Friday
So, a few weeks ago, May Day told me that for my birthday, she was going to take me to a live taping of some show or another so we could be loud, vulgar, and obnoxious and get our laughs immortalized on tape. This didn't quite pan out, though, as she was unable to confirm the reservations, but that was just fine. We improvised. The point of all this is that I had already asked to leave work an hour early, and despite the change in plans, I was going to hold fast to my early exit.
Cue Dolly's fucking crazy-ass issues.
Seriously, at 3:40 she got all up in my business with some kind of ridiculous mass-mailing that had her knickers in a twist because this shit apparently had to go out by the end of the day or we might none of us get out of this alive!!! Or something. That's how she made it sound, anyway. We had to put together these packets for a bunch of people who didn't give a crap, and then, because this office is a piece of shit and they don't have envelopes that fit the folders for the packets, I had to slice the tops off before stuffing them and mailing them and blah. I swear, they keep giving me these highly-complicated, and completely inane, assignments that I have to take care of with nothing but scotch tape, number 2 pencils, and a letter opener at my disposal. I'm like fucking McGyver over here, you guys.
Anyway, the long and short of it (but mostly the long, I guess) is that I blew this pop stand at 4:00 as planned. When I got home, May Day and I got dressed up to the nines -- I in my toniest suit and she in her most chic dress -- and we headed to Beverly Hills. Then we ate at this crappy, hole-in-the-wall, pizza-by-the-slice dive joint and waved at the limos passing by. It was totally awesome.
After that, we went to see Gloria, Psychic Extraordinaire, for a $3 palm reading. Don't look at me like that. Gloria was actually surprisingly accurate! She was this squat little Hungarian woman with ta-tas down to her kneecaps and she told me I was "on the Wheel of Fortune" (I don't think she much appreciated my, "I'd like to buy a vowel, then" crack), that I was born to be a leader, and that I was going to be very successful and famous (which I was once told by a psychic drag queen who worked at Wal-Mart. Don't look at me like that!), and that's when she said it. Gloria looks at my hand and goes, "Ooh, you have love problems!" Like, gee, you think? "You are lucky to meet someone, but not so lucky to hold on to them."
Well, my jaw hit the floor. I mean, dudes, she said that! Seriously. Is she watching me? Was this all a set-up? Chills, I tell you, chills!
Anyway, following this, it was back home where I had birthday cake waiting for me (woo!) and then on to a midnight show of Raiders of the Lost Ark, which was fun. Although, frankly, May Day and I felt a little out of place. Perhaps if we had also dressed up like the characters from the movie, in manner of everyone else at the theater, we would have fit in better. Oh well. It was cool anyway.
Saturday
My actual birthday. Very fun, I can assure you! Well, it was at night. The first part of the day was all about me running errands and talking to every single member of my family. The true gem out of these conversations was my older brother, Crash.
Crash: I'm worried about you out there in L.A.Me: What? Why?
Crash: Well, you hear all these stories about people getting used up and spit out. I don't want you to end up doing porn.
Me: I...I'm not planning on -
Crash: Although, actually, that would be kinda cool.
Me: ...what?
Crash: You could be, like, Bob Hardon! Or something. You could pick a name on your own.
Me: I...what?
Crash: I'd be proud of you! I'd be like, "That's my little brother!" You could do, like, Bob Hardon Does It in the Back Door!
Me: I think I have to go now -
Crash: Is your roommate in the film industry?
Me: Well, she's a writer -
Crash: Cool. You could do porn together!
Me: ...I don't think that's what she writes.
Crash: No, I mean you guys could do porn. Together.
Me: I...huh? I'm sorry, I just meant, HUH?
Crash: She's your girlfriend, right?
Me: Uh, no.
Crash: Mom says she's your girlfriend.
Me: Mom is seriously deluded.
I told May Day about our new career possibility, to which she replied, "Well...I guess we'd have to get a camcorder first."Saturday night? Is when the debauchery began. Most of the evening is a total blur, but this much I can tell you: May Day and I arrived at The Abbey along with our friends Kylee and Kelli, and were soon joined by Carrie, Jessica, Heather, Lauren, and later on, Jeannie.
The festivities began immediately, and it was just shitloads of fun. A better birthday celebration I've not had -- well, not since I turned seven and I got Castle Grayskull, which was, like, the coolest birthday gift ever, anyway -- and we all got completely loaded. Chocolate Banana martinis? Delish. But eeeeevil.
May Day, for her part, got to make out with some Iraqi dude named Judas. Think I'm kidding? Not even. Like, I don't even know where to start on that one. It was a little disconcerting, though, truth be told. We go to a gay bar and my roommate starts getting picked up left and right. We have some seriously weird karma, the two of us. I was informed that some people were checking me out as well -- and I must say I do look pretty fetching in my leather pants -- but I'm such a dork. I suck at flirting! This is why I don't get dates, because I freeze up under pressure! Seriously. I went to the bar to get a Chocolate Raspberry martini for May Day (also good, but eeeeevil), and this really cute guy started hitting on me and I completely choked. I'm all, "durr, I've got shoes on!" I didn't even think to tell him it was my birthday so I could get a little lip, you know?
Actually, I didn't do so bad in that area, quite frankly. Lauren grabbed my ass, Heather made out with me, and Jessica licked my nipple ring. Oops! I meant she 'liked' it (no I didn't) but it was all in good fun, and we had a blast. But seriously, you guys, we're married now.
Sunday
Sunday saw us doing the walk of shame back to our apartment, where May Day and I lounged around for almost the whole day. Until I called...you-know-who. You know, I decided we would be friends, and so I bit the bullet and made the call. He was all, "I'm so glad you called -- when I hadn't heard from you I was sure you decided you didn't want to be friends, but I'm really glad that you do. Anyway, I can't talk right now. I'll call you in a few days."
WHAT? Seriously. "A few days"??? Dude, I shot my dignity between the eyes, dragged it to your doorstep, and threw it at your feet as a token of my friendship and you'll call me in a few days? Do you work for my ex? Lean down, I want to check your scalp for three little sixes.
Okay, this entry is already way too long, but I just had to add that when I was in the bathroom this morning, some dude totally answered his cell phone while he was sitting on the can. Dude? Wait, okay? Just. Wait. Innocuous sayings like, "Oh, I'm doing just fine," and "well, I don't have a pen handy, but..." take on a whole new, completely inappropriate meaning when you're on the toilet.
I'm just saying.