I got 3 shots of espresso added into a regular coffee, and I�m drinkin� it. Because I�m tired as fuck. Good Great friggin� God, it�s Friday again! Oh, how I love thee. So let�s see, last night. Well, Kitty came over with some succulent rotisserie and she, Jen & I gorged ourselves silly. Yummy and then some. So then, the plans for the evening, Hedonism, I hadn�t been in so long! A bunch of Jen�s friends came over, Cyrano brought a very cool friend of his over, and there we sat. And waited. And waited. Have I mentioned how much I fucking HATE to wait? We were waiting for my cousin and his friend, the reason we were going to the club in the first place, to take them dancing in San Diego. They got lost on the freeway and were an HOUR late. I have issues with time, we know this, we�ve been over this. By the time they arrived, I was a cold, stiff bitch. I had been pacing and trying to hide my heart murmurs and stomach flutters of anxiety with a stoic disposition, lips in a tight line, brows slightly furrowed. Basically, I was a wreck.

But they finally did show up, and all was well with the world. There was no line, the club was pretty sparse (which I didn�t mind this particular evening). I ran into many friends there, danced, drank, and simply enjoyed myself. I needed to dance, I didn�t realize how much pent up aggression I had built in that simple hour. Deep breaths, and a bit of sweat, always does the trick. Not to mention 3 cocktails. It was cool to see my cousin, it really has been so many years, and he was very cool, knew how to have a good time. I hate when I feel like I have to entertain people who already have their minds set on ennui. Then again, occasionally, I actually like that challenge. But, not being in the mood, it was perfect that he danced the entire evening with his friend, leaving me to come and go, dance and mingle, and not feel stuck.

We all headed back to my place to hang for a bit, hung and chatted, while my cousin updated us on his trip thus far. In the end, I was hanging out with Cyrano�s friend, awesome chic, by the way, while he disappeared to �chat� with my sis. Uh huh. I got to bed late, hence this coffee done ulcer-style. My coworker just gave her 2 weeks notice. I wonder how that�s going to affect me. So the office is in a weird mood, my stomach is creating all KINDS of caffeine blurbs and gurgles, and I�m in this generally irritable mood.

Sounds fun to be around me now, eh? This weekend, so much going on. I really just don�t want to deal with anything. But then again, I don�t want to stay home. I�m excited about my birthday party next weekend, up in LA, every day more and more is revealed about what a fucking awesome time it�s gonna be. But I�m sure I�ll be writing more about that next week, don�t want to inundate and overwhelm you.

It seems like most of my friends are back from Burning Man, I assume they�re resting and recuperating, getting their shit together and readjusting before they tap back into the social puddle here in San Diego. I wonder if they�ll make it to Street Scene. Fuck, I wonder if they�ll make it to my party next weekend. Doubt it. Travel, partying, that�s just what they�ve been doing for a week straight in the desert. And I have this inkling that I�m viewed now by the masses of peripheries as some psycho-binge-marathon partier, and no one wants to try and keep up with that. There�s a hint of truth to it, yes. And even some of my most dedicated party friends can�t keep up with me. But it�s not like I expect people to keep up with my self-destruction and body torment. Not that I�ve never seen my friends in that mode before, the party mode, because I have. But we all travel our phases at our own paces, don�t we. And I respect that just as much as I expect my friends to.

So, if you can�t tell by my tone, I�m in a very odd mood today. A don�t-want-to-deal-with-any-bullshit mood. A be-myself-and-fuck-the-world mood. Ain�t that how we react when we�re feeling judged? When we think others might be viewing our lives and having the audacity to form opinions? I play both sides, people. I am the judge. I am the judged. But today, I really don�t give a shit about either position. I just want to be, and I don�t want to think, and I don�t want to plan, and I don�t want to care. The bitch of it is, I can�t NOT care. So therein lies MY catch-22. My mood is shifting up and down and all I�m thinking about today is change. At work, with friends, with my love life, family, all of it. And how it�s going to affect me, these things that are happening beyond my control.

I know I will relax by the end of the day, when the tense air of work stress is lifted. After I�ve had a nap and a diet coke (always perks me up, never could tell why, it�s not the caffeine, but the burps, I believe). I�ll be fine, I�ll go downtown all weekend, I will watch people, thousands of them, my favorite pastime, and I will have fun. It�s inevitable. Even pissed and annoyed, I tend to wring a bit of fun out. Right now, the world can fuck me. And later on? Well, I guess I�ll fuck the world! It�ll be the greatest orgy in the universe, with me at the center of it. And anyone who knows me, knows just how much I do love to be at the center.

-Barbarella

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