2005-04-16 - 8:21 p.m.

another senseless sadean party

Wallowing in existential despair right now. Not sure why. Oh, wait... yes, I do know why. It's a combination of things, actually. Normally the single factors would not get me down, but when they combine? Yeah...

Well, lets start off with De Sade's party last night. It was fun. It was raucauos. It was absurd. Mystery Box Guy made cherry bombs. I was previously unfamiliar with this culinary confection. Aparently the recipie is quite simple:
Step 1: Buy gigantic jar of cherries and liter of everclear.
Step 2: Drain cherry juice (in this specific case into a mug with your name on it, but that's not neccessary- just what Mystery Box Guy did)
Step 3: Pour liter of everclear into cherry bottle with cherries.
Step 4: Let sit for several days.
Step 5: Drain off everclear. Save for drinking later. replace cherry juice.
Step 6: Become hero of party.

The cherry bombs were amazing. They resulted initially in me making an ass of myself as depicted below:

As you can see I have once again changed my hair color. Don't worry- I've done it again since those pictures were taken. Yup- I don't even have the same hair color for 24 hours in some cases.

Note the pasty, pasty un-tanable belly and the near-nudity. A truly classic party pic. The beer in the lower right-hand corner really adds to the effect.

Obviously, we had a blast. Or at least, we started off having one. The whole party was great until De Sade was confronted by girl troubles. You see, when you're De Sade there will inevitably be 5 girls at any party who want you. Super for him, but two specific girls were under the impression of having exclusive dibs on De Sade. These two specific girls became angry and jealous. Thus, De Sade got dumped twice in one night. Twice in one hour no less. That, dear friends, is why monogamy can be a beautiful thing. I have no such complicated worries because there are not two boys who think they have dibs on me. Oh, fuck... I just remembered that there are, but that doesn't really count. One is Jason (who does have me all to himself) and the second I really want nothing to do with and am trying to let down nicely (a story I can't tell in it's entirity in a public journal entry). Aaaannnyyyway- where was I going with that? Oh, yes. De Sade got ditched. Then he got sad. He said he's sick of meaningless sex. He said he wants a girl to love. A girl he could even *gasp-of-horror* stand to be faithful to. No more fuck-buddies, he said as he stuffed his mouth with cherries. "I want an actual girlfriend" he proclaimed, as the cherries ran out and he turned to vodka shots. I saw that he was depressed and drinking way too much but I was doing the same so I wasn't fully able to stop him. I'm not sure why I became bitterly depressed and dissilusioned about halfway through the night, but I did. I felt sad and tired and very much so like drinking more than I should. So I did and De Sade did and in the wee hours of the morning things went from bad to worse. Slowly the other guests left until I was alone with De Sade, trying to support his slouching, shouting, stumbling form. He was too drunk to get to bed- too drunk to do anything but yell about how much he hated women. I sighed and shook my head. As I stood over him at 3 a.m., watching him vomit into a trash can I paused to wonder what the fuck I'm doing with my life. I had one of those moments where I felt very-much-so outside myself. I looked at this strange, drunk girl who was comforting an even stranger, drunker man and wondered how the hell she had gotten there and what she was doing. I know that staying with him was the right thing to do and I feel good about it in a way. I was scincerely worried he was going puke in his bed or choke on his own vomit or fall down or somehow intentionally or acidentally hurt himself. I was also worried (and very justifiably) that if I let him have the phone he would drunk-dial every girl he's ever known. He kept trying to get the phone from me so I kept having to stash it in ever more conspicuos places. Fortunately he was too drunk to notice that it was in the most obvious place imaginable. So yes, it was a complicated night, but I deffinitely owed De Sade that. He held my hair back when I was barfing that one time- he's been a very good friend so I feel I owe it to do the same for him.

And yet...

Few things are quite so disconcerting as seeing a grown man cry. I told him I wouldn't tell anyone what he said or even that he was crying, but I guess I just blew that one. I'll stop while I'm ahead, but when you're having a drunken conversation about the meaning of love with a person who's sobbing (and not in love with you- adding a whole 'nuther level of weirdness) it has a way of making you kind of sad. You get reminded how bad people fuck each other over.

I finally left De Sade's place at 6 a.m. I was sad about how bad people hurt each other. I felt oddly empty and like life was meaningless. I see so much of the meaning of life tied up in people- in how we relate and react and what we do. Sometimes it's so beautiful and I can have faith in some kind of optimistic, beautiful world. However sometimes it's crushing. Sometimes you see that people are sick fuckers.

When I finally woke up today I realized that I have soooo much to do this weekend so I began bizzy-buzzing around the apartment. I felt a panic attack coming on so I took the pills my doctor gave me for just such emergencies. That took an edge off my day-time stress/night-time existential despair. While both emotions are still present now I just feel comfortably numb. Being numb isn't so bad, but it would be better if I had some ice cream.

The last thing I wrote before this thing. The next thing I wrote after this.