I'm blown to Hell/ Crash/ I'm the Last Splash...

Everything looks perfect from far away.

I really don't feel like going into it. But it should be noted my intentions were pure and my heart was in the right place. Just sadly, a beer was constantly in the right place as well, and by the right place, I mean constantly in my hand and being brought to my mouth.

I was just going to see Chris' show (which I enjoyed thoroughly, laughing loud and often because one twitch of Chris' eyebrow can send me into hysterics). I swear. Julie convinced me to go the bar for "a drink."

I have no idea how I wound up back there. I vaguely remember climbing the stairs. And that's it. Cut to morning and lateness and battle wounds and broken body and peeing in a cup.

I have decided to become a subscriber to the belief that if you don't remember it, it didn't happen. It keeps the Shame Spiral at bay.

It's getting ridiculous, kids.

So in the interest of justice (well, not really, but that phrase makes it all sound so professional), I have decided that there is only one real course of action to take from this point out to prevent further dalliances.

I'm booby-trapping my vagina.

Yup.

I'll be messing around with a guy, he'll go to take off my underwear and reach toward my naughty parts and that's when a snake will spring out of it and start hypnotically dancing in front of my beau of the moment:

"You musssssssssst ceasssssssssse and desisssssssssssssst"

And then it will strike at the poor chap until he runs screaming from the room.

And then I feed it a mouse.

Or something.

This is going to work, methinks.

And yesterday, despite the absolute death I felt, there were more phermones flying off the walls and weirdness and the show was great and my legs were shaky and someone couldn't stop talking about my ass and a few beers because hair of the dog and whatnot and Conor and I love each other very deeply and soberly and Keleen is a trip and a half and jukeboxes excite me and fuck it I'm taking a cab and crawl into bed and nest there forever. Or at least till the alarm went off today.

I caught a glimpse of myself on the way into my building today. My work blazer and my collared shirt and my nice black pants and coffee in one hand, the morning paper in the other. It was my best impression of an adult to date.

But I'm not really fooling anybody and we all know it.

This weekend is going to be insane. I know it. Mercury is in retrograde [actually I have no idea if it is or not, but I like to think I can blame the stars if all goes horribly, horribly awry].