These are all true stories about me, my boyfriend and our friends. Sometimes names have been changed to protect the stupid and at other times they appear as they do in real life.
My boyfriend lives with 3 other guys - all pretty cool and I, luckily, get along really well with all of them. Before Jeff came along there used to be a different guy living with them, we'll call him Matt. And he had a girlfriend who we'll call Patsy. I guess the guys had a rule where no girls could live with them and they didn't want any girlfriends around when the roommate she belonged to wasn't around. But Matt had his girl over all the time and she used to shower in their shower all the time - they have 2 showers: my boyfriend has his own shower because he pays extra rent to have the master bedroom, and the other 3 guys share one shower. Matt was kind of weird anyway - he used to have a cat that he bathed every week so that the poor thing had really dry, itchy skin because the washings always dried out the natural oils in his coat - poor kitty. And he was meticulously neat and cleaned up shit all the time and was kind of anal in general. Anyway, Patsy was showering all the time at their house. Scott hated it - her hair would get all over the place, she took up shower time, and she kept this plastic cup in the shower with her toothbrush in it. The cup, Matt would later confide in Scott when he asked, she used to wash her private parts - very gross. Her being there all the time and stuff went on for a while and it started driving everyone crazy. So Scott, to get back at her, would take her toothbrush and wash his asshole with it whenever he showered. She never knew what she was sticking in her mouth. Matt eventually moved out and he and Patsy are married now.
My Favorite Cabbie
We were in Vegas this last weekend and we took the cab a few times when it was too far to walk. And the cabbies were all pretty cool, but we had one that was just great. He was so funny - he was this bigoted, sexist man trying to be politically correct, but blunt and honest and very much the stereotypical cab driver if I've ever seen one. He picked us up at the Stratosphere, and he was all pissed because the doorwoman kept the cabs so far away even though there was a huge line of people. He said that they had had some really good doormen apply and that they had one good one, but that Stupak (Bob Stupak - there's a statue of him in the Stratosphere) had brought these 2 little girls (is what he called them) and said he wanted them to be doorgirls. The cabbie said they were probably relatives of some sort. Then he started giving us the gossip on Stupak, who he claims to be a giant coke sniffing dumbass. I guess Stupak made his money in poker and bought some museum or something that mysteriously caught on fire not too long after he got a hold of it and he got the insurance money off of that. He started to build the Stratosphere, but never finished it - he once tried to set fire to it to claim the insurance money. I guess it eventually got sold off to "them Indians" and they finished it. He tried to run for mayor once and was losing to a black man so he had some hooker call the guy and had him meet her in the park and Stupak went and took pictures of it. Even so, Stupak lost the election and eventually the other guy's name was cleared. He punched a reporter who asked him if he was high when he got all jacked up on coke and went to the new Mayor's office and gave his loser's speech after having ripped off the table cloth and wrapped it around himself like a cape (what a loon). He tried to get his daughter or some other relative into office so he could influence through her, but that didn't work. And he's just been in and out of trouble and is an overall good for nothing. It was a great ride. By the way, all the stuff above may or may not be the truth - this is just what I heard from the cabbie - who knows how reliable it is.
Spiders, Cunts, and Sleeping Babes
August 29: I had a rough night last night. I got out of my photography class really early so I decided to head down to Fountain Valley to see my boyfriend since I haven't really been spending much time with him lately. When I got in my car there was this long piece of spiderweb going from the passenger side of the car to the driver's side so I don't think anything of it (though I should have since there's never been a spider web in my car before), and get in and drive. While I was on the freeway, I kept feeling the web on my arm and I'm trying to wipe it off, but it just seemed to be glued to me. Then I see this thing out of the corner of my eye and it's a spider flying from over by my passenger side and landing on my steering wheel. It scared the shit out of me. And I like spiders - I read a fantasy book when I was a kid about a supernatural woman with spiderlike qualities and since then I've been really fond of spiders so I usually just let them hang out when I see them. But this spider was all white - I'd never seen a white spider before in my life, and I swear to god (though it probably was only my imagination) it had little beady red eyes,and fangs (my imagination was running wild) and for a second I even thought it came from satan himself and I was completely terrified. It took some effort chasing him around and trying not to get into an accident, but I finally caught him and squished him to death. After that I started to feel stupid for being such a baby and about having killed it. Then when I got off the freeway, the street that I normally turn on was blocked off due to an accident so I had to take an alternate route, but 2 other streets were blocked off, too, for no apparent reason. I ended up on a wrong street and had to turn around in a parking lot and some stupid bitch tries to get past me as I'm backing out of a parking spot. I'm starting to back out, she drives by, both of our windows are down, I hear her indignantly say, "Excuse me!" so I cursed under my breath, then spontaneously spit out, "Get the fuck out of my way bitch," and backed up - I swear I heard her gasp. I don't usually cuss at strangers, but I was really pissed about the streets being closed off and it taking me so long to get anywhere. I finally get to my boyfriend's, we went to dinner, then came home and I fell asleep as soon as I hit the bed and it was only 10 so I didn't even get to spend any time with him!
A year ago yesterday on August 9, 1995, Jerry Garcia died from years of drug abuse. This is in remembrance of him.
I remember my first Dead show - it was at the The Great Western Forum. I smoked pot for the first time in the parking lot. I remember just being totally blown away by the whole parking lot scene and everyone was so friendly. I loved it. For a while I wanted to give up everything and just follow the Dead for a year, but I valued my education too much to just give it up - I told myself that I'd do it after I graduated high school, but I didn't, then I told myself after I graduated college and now it's too late. But I went to the shows whenever I could. My favorite shows were the Las Vegas ones when they started doing them in the summer at the Silverbowl. It was hotter than hell, but so much fun - just being in Vegas with all the lights was cool. They only did it for 3 or 4 years before Jerry died and I went to it every year except one - it must have been 4 years because I think I went to 3 shows there. I remember sitting on a street curb once with a friend watching the cars go by. I was on acid and watching the trails off of the lights. A bunch of big cars kept driving by and they all looked the same so I turned to my friend and asked him what they were and he told me they were limousines - I was pretty fucked up, but it was fun. I'm pretty crafty so I made lots of beaded and crystal jewelry that we used to sell. We made enough money from selling those things to cover all the costs of one of our Vegas trips. I stayed at the Frontier one year and the picketers outside were yelling at us saying real deadheads don't stay at the Frontier - it made me laugh - we had a big huge suite, I think they were the only rooms left when we called. Sometimes I had to bum rooms off of people I just met or friends and had to sleep on the floor, but I didn't care - I loved those Dead shows, it was like being in another world where everyone was friendly and smiling and completely accepting of whoever you were. The last show I saw was at the Sports Arena right next to my school. It was great as always. When Jerry died I heard it on the radio and I was so shocked and they still weren't absolutely sure it was him at first so I kept hoping. But soon after it was confirmed and I was totally devastated. I thought about all the times I'd gone to see him, and how I was never ever going to be able to see him again, and how my son was never going to see him and the Dead perform - he was never going to experience that. I cried forever. The slightest mention of him would send me crying. My boyfriend, who's never seen the Dead and doesn't care much for deadheads, was just in awe over how strongly I and others felt about his death. I was driving down to his house in Fountain Valley from L.A one night - it was a couple nights after Jerry's death, and Green Day had come out with their new song J.A.R about their friend who died, and I heard it on KROQ and I burst into tears and cried the whole drive down. Now it's been a year and it seems weird - it seems so long ago, but I still miss him. I'm not as much a Deadhead as I was in high school, and maybe I don't listen to them as much as I used, but I still love them and I have nothing but the best memories from their shows and will never, ever forget.
I used to be pre-med for a year so I took all the basic science classes in college. Later on I came to realize that it wasn't for me - I was really excited about it, I wanted to do surgery because I thought it was the most creative thing a doctor could do. And I really dig science, but I decided that a doctor's life was not one I wanted to lead, and my other interests pulled harder. So I let it go. My roommate on the other hand was dedicated to her biology major and was pre-med, too. Last semester she took a physiology or anatomy class - I can't remember which, but they had a field trip after finals to the USC health science campus to go see the cadavers. Now I was really excited when she told me and she said I could go so I accompanied her and her class on the trip. I had a preconceived notion (having seen plenty of dead people on T.V) of what a cadaver should look like, and let me tell you that none of the cadavers I saw looked anything like that. The first thing, of course, was the smell which our tour guide, a professor in the medical school, said was really mild - well maybe it was mild for him, but I don't hang out with dead people all day, so the smell was pretty gross. Most of the people were cut to pieces - a leg here, an arm there, organs had been taken out so that they could be thoroughly examined. Someone said that the shelf life of these cadavers was two years - two years! How do they ever figure out which body part goes to which person? There were different stations set up with different body parts exposed for study, and there were a couple bodies that were whole, though cut open. And they looked nothing like the slightly blue dead people you see on the T.V These people's skin was all wrinkled and their faces distorted and stuck in odd, disturbing expressions - they had the faces covered with paper towels, but of course we looked. The flesh on the body parts that had been cut off looked just like chicken meat - cooked, dark chicken meat. At first when I went in I was o.k - a little shocked because it was nothing like I had expected, but o.k. But as time went on I really wanted to get the hell out of there. I was antsy and anxious, but there was nothing I could do - this was my roommate's trip, she wanted to look and learn in her scientific way, but I was getting very uncomfortable. When we finally got out of there I was so relieved. I went home and called my boyfriend up that night all excited and told him all about it. He said something about how disturbing that could be and I told him it was no big deal. It was only later that I realized I would be so affected by it - I couldn't eat chicken for months after that trip. Or ham. Now I can eat chicken most of the time, but it can still make me sick sometimes.
Scary Naked Lady
I'm a member of Bally's (now known as Bally Total Fitness), and there's one in LA that I used to go to all the time - they have a couple pretty cool aerobic instructors there, and they're close to my work. There's only been one instructor there that I've really hated. She's this bleached blond woman who looks like she's in her 50's - she's thin, average height, wears nylons underneath her shorts when she teaches, has a weird, uneven complexion, and she talks with a raspy/dusky voice - it's kind of an asexual voice. There's just something about her that gives me the willies - everytime I look at her I feel funny. I took her class once, and absolutely refuse to take another one from her. Anyway, one day I was getting dressed for my aerobics class in the locker room and I saw her in there getting undressed, and she looks thin and fit when she's dress, but she is really flabby underneath - I guess that's why she wears the nylons when she wears shorts. She was getting undressed at a locker that was around the corner from my locker so I didn't really see her except for when I first walked in. So I took off my clothes and got changed and everything, and I was about to tie my shoes when I felt someone watching me and I looked up and it was her. She'd stepped around the corner and was wattching me, and she was naked - no big deal, right, because it's o.k. to be naked in a locker room. I gave her a quick smile and bent over to tie my shoes, thinking she'd go right on getting dressed or whatever she was doing like any normal person. But a few moments went by and she didn't move - she was still standing there, naked, 10 feet away from me, watching me tie my shoes. She stood there for a while longer, and I started to panic because there was no one else in the locker room at that point and I felt really creeped out, but didn't want to get up because I didn't want to have to see her again. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she stepped over back in front of her locker and I got up and got the fuck out of there. I took my aerobics class that night, but haven't been back to that gym since.
Crows, piss, and tennis balls...
My boyfriend lives with three other roommates, all guys. All of whom are very cool. They rent a house in a pretty nice neighborhood - it's quiet and mostly families with kids live around there. Being four bachelors in one house they tend to be disgustingly dirty - when I first started going out with him, I'd go over to his house and it wasn't uncommon to find maggots all over the kitchen. Now, lucky for me, they have a maid come in every two weeks and they manage to take the trash out more often, so we haven't seen any maggots in a while. But sometimes they leave their trash cans out in front of the house instead of taking them to the back so dirty, little, furry creatures like to get all over that stuff. They came home one day to find a note that read, "Please could you keep your trash barrels behind the fence and in back. The trash cans are attracting dogs and the crows are spreading your trash about." They all had a good laugh over it and put it on the fridge where it is to this day. They may have moved the trash cans, too, but I don't remember. They have one particular neighbor across the street with an especially rotten little boy - well, I guess he's not that rotten anymore, but he used to fuck with their cats and stuff, so they're not too fond of him. Well, one day the little boy (he's like 10 or so) and his friends were playing out in the street with a tennis ball. I was home, and so were a couple of my boyfriend's roommates, and one of our other mutual friends. The kids hit the tennis ball into our backyard and it landed on top of the pool cover, so the boy across the street came over and asked for it back - no problem. So one of the roommates goes out into the backyard and gets the ball, runs over to a corner of the backyard, and pisses all over it. Then he throws it over the wall and yells, "It fell in the pool!" And the kid goes "That's o.k." Later on, we saw the kids running around the street throwing the ball around - all I could think of was Scott pissing all over it.
New Year's in the Bathroom
This last New Year's we (me, my boyfriend, and a bunch of our friends) went to the Alternative New Year's at the Park Plaza Hotel in L.A. I had been there the year before and really liked it and looked forward to going again. And Jack, my boyfriend, was really excited about going because the two New Year's before this last one had been really bad for him (he was in jail for one of them, and stuck at home with his rotten ex-girlfriend for the other one). The Alternative New Year's is pretty cool and the Park Plaza Hotel is huge. It's got this huge staircase when you first walk into the place - when you're drunk and trying to go up the stairs without holding onto the banister it just seems endless. It's got four rooms of different kinds of music - four different clubs: Velvet, Stigmata, Helter Skelter, and Perversion (weekly clubs in L.A.) in each of the respective rooms. The crowd's really diverse. There's lot of crossdressers, lot of fetish gear, lots of gothics, and there's also people dressed more mundanely. Stigmata's my favorite room, but we hung out in all of them. We got a hotel room a block or two away and so didn't have to worry about driving, so, needless to say, we got drunk and we got drunk fast. Being drunk is so weird - everything looks different when you're really drunk, I feel like I can't see right, in some ways it's not unlike being on acid. Jack and I were running around, two inebriated fools, and somehow we both ended up on the floor in the women's bathroom. Now, the bathrooms at this function are unisex bathrooms regardless of it says on the door. I, having to pee more often than anyone else I know, went into the women's room quite a few times, and often my boyfriend would accompany me as I waited in line. The women's rest room was huge - a big waiting/loung room with a big chair in it, and a big mirrored area with a vanity for putting on makeup. The area with the toilets was much smaller and to the back. One of the times I had to pee, we were both standing in line, and then I did my duty and was washing my hands. Meanwhile, my boyfriend is examining the tampon machine cause he's never seen one before. And since he's drunk he starts fucking with it and breaks it, releasing a fistful of quarters onto the floor. Now he's yelling "woo-hoo, woo-hoo," drunker than shit and tossing quarters out of a tampon machine. The funniest part was that all the girls in line started scampering for the quarters, making all sorts of noises. I was laughing and laughing watching Jack throwing quarters while a bunch of gothic chics were bent over at his feet like worshippers. Afterwards all the girls were thanking him and treating him like he'd just thrown around hundred dollar bills or something, and we wandered over into the vanity area of the waiting room and ended up on the ground. A few moments later a thin, o der (about late 20's, or maybe somewhere in the 30's) man and his chubby female friend came and stood by us. The man was dressed in female attire (I can't remember what it was or I'd describe to you), and was changing into a tu-tu type of thing. I sat there, about 3-5 feet away from him watching him get dressed. His face was thin, and his hair kind of scraggly, and he wasn't a real attractive man, but had a bright personality. He started putting on a pair of boots with high heels - the kind that buckle around the calf up to the knee, and I sat there, inching my ass closer to him, and started petting his shoes - the shiny leather caught my attention and we started talking. I don't remember what we talked about, but I remember later he asked me how he looked and I told him he looked great. So I'm over there, half laying, half sitting on the carpet, almost under the vanity shelf under the mirror, petting this guy's boot, then I notice that Jack's over talking to the crossdresser's chubby friend behind me about skiing, and I didn't even care, I turned right around and went back to petting my boot. We ended sitting on the floor with these people we didn't even know for what seemed like hours but was probably only 30 min - an hour. It was great - I still think about that night and have a good laugh. Later that night, my boyfriend ate a whole cigarette (I had quit smoking and was trying to get a cigarette from someone and he snatched it out of my hand and ate it - filter and all), and poured candle wax all over his favorite jeans and his hand (and splashed some onto my nice satin pants). The place shut down about 1:30 or so because people were starting to get really rowdy, but it was a great New Year's.
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