So it's Thursday and postings have been a tad sparse this week, but I'm mainly just trying to survive the week. Last night a few friends and I had a mini bitch session party with pizza! We got to catch up on how bad eachother's lives are going, how much we hate or don't hate our jobs... It was just what the doctor ordered. It's funny how sometimes I forget how much fun "girl's night" can be. I hang around with so many MOs at "local gay bar" that I don't realize how much I miss hangin' with the chicks. My posse used to be full of awesome females... It was the gay boys who were fairly sparse in my life. Hell I had never had a group of gay male friends 'till about grad school. It was nice to settle in, have a glass o' wine and just listen to the bitching commence. I think we all needed to vent a bit. (PS: "Ghostie" I love your place and your really cute animals.)
Other things of note this week, a new Friday event at "local gay bar" is starting at the end of the year by an infamous LA gay promoter... AKA: Zack may be out of a job on Fridays and now needs to consider taking back Saturdays..... Is that worth it? How badly do I need this second job? Stay tuned to find out... Even if the position is still mine on Friday, I'm not sure I want to work there with the crowd THAT promoter's events bring in. If Tuesdays crowd is any idication of the horror to come, forget it!
Let's see...what else..... OH! I missed my mom's B-day by one day. I have never felt that spacey and awful before. I can tell I totally disappointed her. I had every intention to call on Monday night and wish her a happy b-day, and instead discovered it was on Sunday and I had missed it. What an ass I am... I'm sorry again Mom, I can't say it enough. I kept having flashbacks to "Sixteen Candles" while talking to her. Oh how Sam must have felt!
I'm finally gearing up for Christmas... Most of you who know me, understand that I want nothing to do with the holiday until December has finally arrived. I am the guy who says things like "Jesus, soon Christmas is gonna start in July!" "Look at all this tacky crap they've already slung everywhere and Halloween only ended yesterday!" This bitching and moaning ends abruptly and I begin to embrace it all, right around now.
Yesterday, I was flipping through the Seattle Men's Chorus mailer magazine, and couldn't help but reminisce. (Alright bitches, don't judge me... I used to be in the Seattle Men's Chorus, and I liked it... alot.) Every Christmas the chorus does a huge holiday concert at Benaroya Hall in Seattle. It was so exciting and such an honor to stand up on that stage with them. I've been back a few times and seen them perform, it's always so good. One Christmas season when I was a Sophomore in undergrad, I made a bad judgement call. I was living at the time in a large 4 story house on 12th ave. and every now and then would smoke up a little with my roommate, we'll call her "Hippie." Hippie had a new dealer, apparently, and forgot to tell Zack about the new weed experiment he was about to undergo. Two long tokes off a Jerry Garcia head pipe, and Zack was getting too high too quickly. I went to my room, shut the door and prayed when I woke up all would be fine. Finals were over, and all I had to do was get through the next day of parties and meet and greets with teachers and visitors. I woke up and everything seemed to be in stop animation, both visually and skin sensations. I. Was. Freaking. Out! I think my Teacher knew I was on something when she said hello and I lept back and slammed my back into a locker. I still had three more concerts with the chorus to get through (one of which my family would be attending) and all sorts of x-mas shopping to do. I remember moments where I was trying to pull money out of my pocket to pay for stuff and it felt like I was digging into a can of live worms. I must have looked so scared.
That Friday night, I went to perform with the chorus unsure of whether or not I could get through it. One of the Upper Baritones, and a friend of mine took one look at me and knew something was up. He was a doctor, so I told him everything hoping I wouldn't be stuck like this forever. He talked me down out of my freak out and said that the pot was most likely laced with something, possibly pcp. These effect would only last as long as it was in my system and my body had probably had an allergic reaction to it. He was so nice... He helped me get into my tux, which is a hard feat to accomplish when everything you touch seems to be in stop animation too. I stood on stage and sang, and survived. I saw my family briefly telling them I didn't feel too well, and would see them the next week for Christmas. I discovered that shopping for family while still drugged out from some strange pot you smoked with a roommate produces humorous results. I bought dad a huge thing of popcorn kernels, mom got a crappy blowdryer, sis got a weird christmas cd, and for some reason the cat got a huge stocking. I relaized when they were tearing into the packaging, I had no idea what was inside. Yay, Christmas!
Memo to me: never smoke up with that Hippie or any other again!