An Actual Update
Previous - this entry written on September 02, 2007 at 9:32 am - Next


As I am typing this, there is a very small, very sleepy puppy-clone curled up in front of the fire/snakepit trying not to wake up. Yep.

So yesterday was odd. The night before yesterday was even odder, with worrying about Torian's slicing spree, being downtown most of the day (and making a profit out of it all), the 1/10th of a batman flick I got to watch in the middle of Pioneer Courthouse Square after the sun had set, interesting interactions with Daniel, getting more-or-less squared away with Puppy, and so on. I thought when I woke up yesterday that I had gotten all of the weirdness over with in that one burst.

Nope.

So Puppy and I had indulged in a bit of misogynistic slut/whore/druggie/bitch phonesexxorz that would scare the pants off of any normal person, but somewhere in that he had repeatedly said he would pay for the one med I can't afford to get right now... as it has a $200+ price tag on it. No generic, insurance won't pay for brand name, and yeah.

Unfortunately, when I tested this, his bank account said no way, senorita, and so I was unexpectedly spending the rest of the day not having new pain meds and (because I'd been expecting to take this new one) not having old pain meds either, as it's not one that mixes well. So. Off to Dixon Household I go, to console myself with boozahol and serial killer TV shows. Cate went to her two rehearsals for Rocky and by the time she came back after the last one, between lorazipam and Mike's Hard Lime and a bit of this nifty lime creme liquor, I was so very toasted and willing to go with her to Rocky.

I will add that this would have made me willing to go anywhere, with anybody, and if I EVER mix said drink with lorazipam again I will be wearing iron panties and someone else will have the key 'cos I am SO not responsible then.

That said... I didn't go IN to Rocky at all. I spent the evening curled up in the fur cloak, with lots of ink on my face and Cate's pirate hat, drawing on anyone who came close enough, long enough, and chattering with people. We got there around 10:30, I think, and the movie doesn't open until 11:30, doesn't start the preshows until midnight, and goes on from there... so yeah. We hung around for quite a while.

Early on in all of this, I had started talking to someone. Why? 'cos he reminded me a lot of Puppy. As I talked (and drew on him) it became obvious why I had thought that. The boy's an ex-marine (washed out because his heart gave out on a forced march, not his fault), does kick-boxing, likes much of the same music Puppy does, moves the same, talks the same, stands the same, even looks the same under the abysmal lighting at the theater. He had arrived already drunk, brought by a friend-ish who was tired of seeing him wake up, work, come home, sleep, repeat, no life, all his paycheck going to child support (his wife divorced him, I don't know more than that and I'm not asking yet), and him growing more and more hollow by the minute. The marine corps trains you to be something....

...but if you can't be that something, then what the hell are you? He's still trying to figure it out. By the time I'd gotten most of his life story out of him I'd decided that at the very least he needed to get a bit of Portland's Weirdness Factor working in his favor for a day.

So we kidnapped him.

Pretty literally, figured out who his ride home was, she asked around, knew people who knew us and said we were good people, she thought it would be a hell of a lot better for him than going home drunk and alone, and left him in my care. ^.^ He got a bit of vodka when we got back to the house (Cate's decision, not mine, when he asked for more I said no as I really want to talk with him sober and hangovers are not fun), he and Cate fixed some sort of computer problem he had been having regarding a myspace page, a band (whose music is amazing, omg, Puppy, you have GOT to hear them, you'll love them), and his lack of leet mp3-to-webpage skillz, which Cate has in abundance. This was a several thousand dollar problem, that being the amount he's getting paid to front the band's page for them, he says - yes, I take anything he can't prove with a LOT of salt, don't worry - and after that was dealt with, he crashed on the beanbag chair. Daniel was in the big brown chair, Rhia and Randy in her room, Cate and I in mine, and the house felt... comfortably full. I actually fell asleep feeling quite good.

So now it's morning; apparently puppy tried to call earlier and didn't get an answer, unsurprising as everyone was sound asleep (late-night con activities on Rhia's boys' part, Rocky on mine), and he freaked out Torian. I'm talking with Torian now on AIM, she's waiting for me to post this because I told her I don't want to try typing it all out twice. *wry grin*

The short version: I've got a Puppy-clone sleeping in my living room, had a lot of fun last night courtesy of booze and lorazepam which almost make a tolerable painkiller between them, I am alive, safe, awake, aware, I will be answering phone calls as long as I'm home (if no one answers the home phone, try the cell, I may be out running errands and/or getting breakfast), and everything is reasonably ok.

Puppy - do NOT tell me that you are going to do something that dramatic only to leave me sitting at the pharmacy feeling silly because your card dun' have that much available. Realistically, when I called you in the morning-after to double-check, I should have taken your groggy mutterings as a sign that you had NO CLUE what you'd said you'd do, and because I couldn't get the damn pills I ended up drunk at Rocky and found your twin, so it's all good.

Torian - I adore you, you little wench, and I am still worried about you. No, I have NOT forgotten about the therapist, yes, you WILL be seeing one, I told you I wrote it down. *hugs* It's worth trying, pet, you need someone there to talk to, you do.

Angel - You've got my number, ring me when you're likely to be headed my way. If you need a lift, call and we'll sort something out. And yes, I meant it, your presence here would be beneficial, and owwwww sympathy for you about your tooth. I've got some stuff that can help make the pain ease up, if y'like. *wry grin* Jax, the walking pharmacy.

Fish, it's 10:00 and the birds are shrieking, the sun is shining, Rhia and her crew have sailed off for con-related waters and won't be back 'till late, so I think I'm going to poke Cate, and then find out a bit more about this interesting marine over a cup of coffee. We have a coffeemaker, yay!

Previous - Next
Hosted by Diaryland - All Rights Reserved - Image, Layout, and Content copyright Jax Raven -
- Do Not Feed The Moose -




Human Pets!

Latest
Older
First

Profile
Cast
Disclaimer

Links
Pants
Porn
Addiction
Blowjobs

Notes
Guestbook

Art
Writings
Bad
Poetry
Collection
The Girls

Old-time
Radio
Techno
VideoSift
The Boxes
#submission

Hosted
at D-land