Holy shit yet again, people, have I been neglecting my diary, or what? I can feel it in my mind, piled up in there, all the things I�ve been meaning to share, but I�ll tell you, my handwritten home journal hasn�t seen this much action in years. But here I am, and trust me, the effort is there to update as much as possible. Hee hee.

So let�s get to it. Friday night, Cabana Boy and I decided to relive our prom night. Turns out our dates were brother and sister, something I didn�t know until I found out these high school friends of ours were in town for the weekend. Hmm. But there�s more! AFTER prom, my date came out of the closet, and so did Cabana Boy. So here we had this opportunity to go out once more, but this time with the knowledge of our sexual orientations before drinks and dancing. Hee hee. It was fun to catch up, I must tell you. Out at Bourbon St., we met up with some other friends that I hadn�t seen in quite awhile and ended up after-partying for a bit with them. And so it went for the next few days for me, hanging out with this new crew that I just can�t seem to get enough of.

At the center of it is a woman, we�ll call her Bunny. We all went back to her place for some drinks and some chat, turns out a few of her friends, some guys I�d never met before, seem to know many of my friends. Small world, it�s a wonder how we can walk in the same circles and associate with the same people for so many years and yet never meet. And once we do meet, it�s not through any of those people. Ah, the dynamics of the social world never cease to intrigue me, it�s true. The following day, Bunny invited me and some friends for afternoon drinks and hors d�oeuvres at a fun bar by the beach. We ended up running into some other friends there, drinking and eating until we were more than full and satisfied, then heading home to pass out until the evening�s events were upon us.

Then, to the Dragon Lounge anniversary party, to meet up with other friends and whatnot. Kitty, Bunny and I were exhausted, but somehow managed to pull together for the greater good (it�s always a better party when I�m there, this we�ve just come to accept). My lady friends hooked up with some good looking gentlemen, I got to see some smiling, happy faces, have a few drinks, and head on home, to pass out yet again. Fuck, I was tired. I mean, like, exhausted-tired, the kind you just can�t get over unless you sleep for 12 hours kind of tired. Whew! Which is exactly what I did. I slept my Sunday away, scaring my father a bit, who assumed there must be something wrong with me. But alas, there was not. I cooked a tasty dinner for me and Dad, did some laundry and went back to sleep. There�s a little something that weaved its way in and out of my weekend that I�ve failed to mention, guess I can do that now:

Mom called a few times over the weekend, asking if I could come down. I was busy just about every minute of the weekend except Sunday. When Sunday did eventually roll around, she called me and asked if I could bring her Advil. I was sleeping and not interested in waking up, going to the store, and driving half-an-hour to bring her pills. She ended up having a local friend bring some by, but the damage was done. I didn�t care. I�m up here at Heather�s right now, my sister who is about to pop with this baby, so that someone is here in case she goes into labor today. Yeah, it�s that close. My mother called this morning, still not back at work, wondering if she should come up and stay with Heather today, because I had some other things I was planning to do.

She said, �I don�t know if I have the stamina to drive up there.� I said, �You never had the stamina.� She said, �I get out of breath easily.� I said, �It doesn�t sound like much has changed. Of course you�re weak, you haven�t been eating and you�re not taking your iron STILL or your supplements� Listen to me. You are NOT going up there. The last thing I want is for Heather to end up having to take care of YOU. Stay home, I�m canceling my plans and driving up to spend the day with her.� I have no sympathy. I don�t want to hear it. I don�t care what hurts, I don�t want to hear her lies about walking or her plans to get back on a regimen. So that�s the update with my mother, over and out. She can tell in my voice that the sympathy card has long ago expired. This daughter just doesn�t want to deal.

-Barbarella

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