but a good day, i think.
i can't remember.
a tumbler full of jungle juice has wiped away all my tears.
okay, so i didn't have tears.
but there were some amazing salt water fishtanks at that party.
and sluttly looking dorothy (W of Oz)--very cute.
and the girl who dropped X and kept hugging everyone
and asking me if i thought she was annoying for a 17 year old.
no, sweetie, you're surprisingly, refreshingly mature and adorable.
a day for cancelled appointments and finally a day of sunshine--
the most perfect round of trick or treating EVER...
so DAMN cute.
showing me each peice of candy as they left each door...
and twin B, scared stiff for the first few houses, refusing to go...
finally answering the sweet call of the candy...
and meeting two people with my name.
and not quite realizing it at first, in either case.
because my name, as mundane as it is, sounds different when referring to someone else.
and meeting someone who i have heard of for months now...
but pictured as a 50-ish, bald business man.
so very not.
and learning that he reads (or has read) this silly thing.
but mostly, hoping that my nervous chatter didn't scare away the wife...
she reminded me of home and of the kind of person i think i may have been once or should be...
a quieter, more centered person...
so very gracious and sweet--
me...i talk too fast when i'm nervous, and i'm usually nervous when i'm meeting someone new.
we did not, however, get to visit any motherfucking god damn cock sucking houses.
i suppose this one counts...
i am a mother, who gets fucked.
i suck cock (greedily, sometimes...slowly and dreamily other times...)
but i was talking about NEW houses.
ones with signs in the yard.
begging to be bought...
take me home...
er, well...make me home, they would be more likely to beg.
you get the point.
or if you don't...
go fuck yourself.
jeeez...i need a new line.
i say that waaay too much.
it's losing some of its flavor.
some of its punch.
some of its...
power to move and groove and slap you across the face like the manicured hand of a spoiled prom queen.
i thought i may have been drugged.
because life is so soft and floaty...
and i ate.
but i still felt drunk around the edges...
like a white rose with red tips...
or like the ring of pond scum around the edge of that pond in my best friends yard back home...
yeah, the latter.
do you know i hate that word.
fucking fucking fucking mormons.
who, ironically enough, rarely fuck.
that would be too crude.
you all have the happiest of halloweens.
and i wish i could hug you all right now.
because i'm that kind of drunk.
i love you, man...