Man, there are so many topics swimming around in my head right now that I would love to get out there. But alas, I settle for the update, the simple daily review of my previous evening�s antics. Even then, there�s just so much to cover. I saw an old friend yesterday, she came over to my place after work, I answered the door with bed-head and groggy eyes (for one reason or another, I passed out on the couch as soon as I got home). We updated each other on our lives, it�s literally been months since we�ve hung out with each other. Grabbed a bite to eat, listened, talked, you know, those crucial common denominators of conversation? Yeah, you�re with me. Way to keep on top of things.

A pleasant visit, we chatted until oh, I�d say about 10pm. Then she headed to a Burning Man meeting and I headed to Pixie�s place. Oh, did I. Not like I could get through a Tuesday without SOMETHING going awry. I updated Pixie of my goings-on since last we�ve seen each other (had it already been almost 2 days? The Horrah!) and we headed to a friend�s birthday party. Well, friend of hers. Okay, local bartender, but man, they were friends once, I�m sure of it! Now this is where everything went awry. The bar, Nunu�s, the place, the hangout, our �Cheers�, where Pony hangs her blender. Met some very cool people, friend�s of Pixie�s, and the conversation was flowing like the refills of my vodka-collins.

First, well, fuck the �first� part, I�m pretty good with time, but in this case, the sequence of events is irrelevant. I�ll type them as I think of them, so: first, Kitty�s rock-a-billy boy showed up at our booth. Quite the moddish look, he was adorable with his Weezer-ish cardigan over his button up shirt and tie, I do believe the slacks were even ironed. Complete with his glasses and innocent (don�t let that fool you) disposition, he was the epitome of Preppy School Boy. Kitty decided to meet us all down there after all, after a quick cell phone conversation from the bar which included, �you have GOT to see this. Get your ass down here,� or something along those lines. Hey, I was drinking, remember? Cut a girl some slack.

Then, HE came, friend of Steph�s, nice guy, quite the mess, though. Have you ever seen anyone who is utterly messed up in every form of the colloquialism? I mean physically, mentally, emotionally, this guy was so fucked I didn�t know whether I wanted to hold him or run away from him. Why messed up? Drugs. Now, I�m no Sandra Dee over here, but I do have my limits, and I do not allow my recreational drug use to affect my work or my health, those are my rules. As soon as something I do is affecting one of those, a red flag goes up in my mind that I need to pull on the reins. But I�m not talking about me, here. This guy, I believe I�ve referred to him as V before, so I�ll keep consistent, this guy, V, he lives immeshed in the drug underworld. I have never encountered him sober, and I honestly don�t believe he can remember a sober moment, from the stories I�ve heard. He has asthma problems, but that doesn�t keep him from crossing downers and uppers at extreme kill-a-rat levels, and as a result, he coughs a dry little wheeze-cough every few seconds or so.

Nice guy. I mean, he said I could write about him, that�s nice in itself, right? Very generous with his stashes and very open with his stories and his thoughts. Last night, when he showed up, he had cigarette burn marks all over his arms. Apparently, while partying with some girls he knows, tweeker chicks (always a sign of trouble for me, I have too many bad-friend-experiences involving that dirty drug), he passed out. Fiending (which maybe isn�t a word after all, girls, it�s not coming up on the dictionary�another Barbarism then), they attempted to get at his satchel, which contains his stash, but he was holding on for dear life even in slumber and wouldn�t budge. So what do they do? The fucking BURN him. They BURN this guy, who had already given them a generous amount of the drug, so that they could move his arms and get to the pack, or more accurately, what was inside of the pack.

Only fiends fiend. Well, only fiends fiend at THAT level. How fucked in the head must you be before you cause bodily harm to someone for drugs? I can�t imagine causing physical harm to anyone for any reason. He was, obviously, upset about it when we saw him. More upset that he was duped, though, that he was cheated by people he trusted, used. I was more appalled at the psycho mind behind the hand that held the cigarette as it melted the top few layers of his skin, and he was so �out� that he didn�t wake up when this happened. THAT�S messed up. And very unfortunate, this display of what people will do to get what they want.

Later, after the bar, because he stopped by Pixie�s for a bit, he spoke of his nine-year-old daughter. Seemed very lighthearted, so I carried the conversation, he talked about her mother, said he never wanted to be a father, but did want what�s best for her, and he knows that that is not him. The mother will be marrying someone in a week or so, who will be playing the role of Daddy in this little girl�s life. Sweat incessantly dripping from his forehead, he said between cough interruptions, �let�s change the subject, I don�t want to cry right now.� His whole demeanor had changed from twitchy tweeker � moving and shaking and moving some more, to beaten man � shoulders slumped, head facing the floor, perfectly down in every way. And I was saddened for him. He didn�t stay very long, though, just stopping by to pick something up, and for the first time since I�ve met him, I actually wanted to give a hug goodbye, which I did, meaningfully.

I capped off the evening with some great conversation (love that stuff) with Pixie and her friend, Mr. G. Hee hee. God, I�m funny sometimes. Got home before the sun came up (just in the nick of time!) and the acid in my stomach is rioting its inner lining in a deafening demand for coffee. But I was a bit late, so I�ll just have to wait for lunch, now, won�t I. Oh my God, am I ready for the rest of the week? Am I ready for the weekend? Tune in tomorrow! Will Barbarella take a nap before she heads to the Ould Sod (got corrected on the spelling there) tonight? Will she be naughty? And, will the evening go� awry?

Find out tomorrow on Barbylooooooonnnnnn!

-Barbarella

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