Burnt -> Out

During the pre-party party it was pressured on me at the dinner table to tear up my flower garden and unearth the bonfire that we'd scored up the previous year. I really didn't want to - and, in all fairness - I was told that if I didn't want to I didn't have to - but, come on. Seriously. How is that not a guilt trip? It being below freezing outside and plenty of girls coming over - I finally decided that it would be a better investment of my time to go ahead and appease rather than have to listen to questions towards the matter in the manner of whydidn'tyous or wouldntithavebeenniceifs for the next several hours in my crowded house waiting for the keg to drain.

So I left the pre-party party and headed home to tear up the earth - whereupon I immediately - upon moving the bemused frog - managed to shatter the orb...

That being done, and with much more on my mind, it was safe to say that on the inside I wasn't the most pleasant of persons that night - and from what I remembered the following morning - I certainly felt I had been an asshole to several people. No matter. I'm safely nestled away now - 700 miles from any such worry. Until this weekend. When I'll return. Triumphantly. To throngs of admirers.

Regarding further the night in question --- The only conversation I really remember having was with Star in the kitchen. I don't really even remember what we were talking about. Actually - that's not completely true:

There was one moment where she said that it seemed I'd been getting lucky with the ladies lately
which is not true
but that they all seemed to have boyfriends
somewhat always is the case
and why was that
if I knew I'd be a much happier man, maybe
- to which I smiled and laughed to myself -- because we all know Star has a boyfriend and. (No. Never mind. Don't say that. People are gonna read this stuff and get the wrong idea. Remember to go back and erase that.)

Facts you ask?
Just that I remember looking at Star's face and thinking to myself, "Here we are, face to face, a coupla silver spoons Here we are, Star and I, having a serious heart to heart in the kitchen, and yet - just by looking at her now, and knowing what I'm feeling - I am almost certain that neither one of us are gonna remember this in the morning."

So the night went on. And on. And on. Until once again I was the only one awake burying the bonfire and dousing it with water. Where once there was light and heat now nothing but the cold dank darkness. I proceeded to the bed - and threw myself in the air - filling its emptiness with the stank of campfire clothes. To sleep.

The next morning I woke up and started playing nofriendo and didn't care if the phone rang or whatever. I was gonna play nofriendo and nothing was gonna stop me. Until Shell-bell came over after calling and not getting an answer and then knocking on my door after knowing that I was home because she just doesn't stop until she gets hers. Damn her. She asked me to go see LOTR with her. Then asked again. And again. My will as broken as Smiegel's, (dork alert dork alert bwoop bwoop!) I relented.

Great movie. I didn't get up to pee the entire 3 1/2 hours. Anyone who knows my bladder knows that is an accomplishment.

I then got home, and as is custom - in my post-party depression - called Stoner and we whined back and forth about life to each other for about 2 hours. I stayed up entirely too late - and wound up not being able to get out on the road the next morning until 11.

My trip up was uneventful. Long. Dull.

The see-store, however - has quite a few interesting stories to share once she arrives. She has had two setbacks -- and has only made it so far as Iowa. I feel it would be wisest to hold off on those tales until I have all the information. For now -- I have spoken too much already. I am off...