From my MySpace blogs, four years before I became really sick; seems forever ago:
Billy Bob and a Bottle of Red 3/2/06
I think the red hair is working! The men at work now worship me; strangers on the street are offering me rides on their bicycle handle bars. Okay, so maybe I bribe the guys at work with candy, and maybe the kid on the bike wasn’t much older than 20……but I knew my luck had to change!
Last weekend was a great weekend. I got to do so many fun things that I feel like a normal person again – but check in with me at the end of May, which is the next time I’ll have an entire weekend off from Job #2.
I don’t think I could duplicate last Saturday if I tried. Jen was kind enough to invite me to her co-workers’ double birthday parties at a house in BFE Queen Creek. When I got there I only knew Jen and her husband; by the time we left, everybody was my friend! But let me tell you about Billy Bob Thornton, because he was at the party too. He’s Jen’s co-worker, nice southern gentleman, tall, older, a little bit goofy but very friendly – from Georgia, I think.
At a party, everyone plays musical chairs and rotates the people that they talk to. So the first round was “Gosh, you got perty eyes.” The second round was “Hey, you’re real intelligent, ain’tcha?” By the third time I made it back around to him, I had sucked down my whole bottle of red wine I brought with me, plus some screaming blue pre-packaged jello shots that were lying around. His next line was “Hey, let’s go snuggle on the couch!” I had to break his heart and turn him down……but after about a half hour, I wandered back into the house and found him talking to Jen and her husband, where he was saying something to the effect of “It makes you just want to kiss someone” (referring to the Pat Benetar playing on the stereo, I think). Then he looked up and saw me, and decided I was an angel sent to him for the very purpose of kissing him during a Pat Benetar song. He kept trying to pull me on to his lap and he was smooching me all over, but the wine put me into slow motion and all I could get out was a “Hey!” or two. Luckily Jen stayed there with us so I didn’t get completely molested. He asked me for my phone number and I tried to give it to him, but midway through writing it I blanked it out. I even told him I was giving him the wrong number. I’m probably on his bitch list now.
So the main reason I went to the bash was to meet one of the birthday boys, but he ended up in the hot tub and then the bathroom with mostly naked women (and I wasn’t one of them – I made enough of a fool of myself trying to talk to the guy’s boss after the wine and three jello shots). The only other action I got aside from Billy Bob was the owner of the house giving me an extra-long hug as we were leaving, and I just can’t get worked up about men who are married and have four kids. 🙂
I could say that Saturday was a no-pride night, but I actually remember at least 10 peoples’ names that I met that night – that’s pretty good, isn’t it? I didn’t throw up, didn’t pee my pants, didn’t break anything, left with my undies intact.