Let's start with Thursday. I wanted to sing karaoke. Like bad. So after school, I called up the crew (read: the wife) and headed out to O'Kelley's. Right when I got there Gina was ready for me to put in my songs. I hate singing alone, so I was trying to persuade her to sing with me. She refused. So I was trying to find a song, but the new guy was there with me and I was kind of nervous because I'd never sang in front of him before and, well, I was just nervous. So after much deliberation, I chose a song. After only a beer and a half, it was my turn. I sang sober. By myself. But I rocked Heartbreaker like it was nobody's business. Then Angela and I decided to rock out together, so we chose Mr. Big and Lita Ford. Still not drunk, and faster than I could say karaoke, it was our turn. She insisted we go on stage to sing. I refused. She kept on it and the new guy and others joined in. Since I'm susceptible to peer pressure, I caved. Off to the stage I sauntered. Lita Ford came on and I started singing my little heart out. I got THEE biggest adrenaline rush. I danced, I sang, I conquered. And a dude gave us each a dollar. All in all I gave a good show. I sang another song, but I'm proudest that I actually got up on a stage in a crowded bar and belted out Pat Benetar. And I wasn't even drunk.
Next morning I woke up way too tired and not wanting to wake up. But alas, I can't miss much school...at least for the rest of this term. So I drove my unhappy, non-morning person ass to school. I was only booked with two haircuts. I know I used to bitch all the time about how many highlights I was getting a day...well now I say I should've knocked on wood. Haircuts are boring and I just want to do color. So anyway, my first client gave me a $20 tip on a $15 haircut. F'n F'yeah. I'm a baller now. That was pretty much the highlight of my day. I go home and pass out. I was so tired from all the singing and drinking the night before and school. I actually passed out with a beer in my hand. I woke up to the ex standing over me laughing about said beer in my hand while the princess was repeatedly saying mommy. The ex left and the kids went about their business as I passed out again. I awoke, sweaty and uncomfortable about an hour later to find the princess cuddled up next to me, long leg draped over me, passed out and sweaty. I carried her to her bed, which isn't easy considering she's a little more than half my size and weighs in at approximately 60 pounds. I went back to my bed and passed out. Again. I woke up about and hour or so later with no real intention of going out. But of course, at about 10:30, the wife calls and peer pressures me into going to Jupes. Well, I guess I wouldn't say pressured so much as demanded. So I get ready and go. Sidebar: the new guy was supposed to be on a plane to Cali to visit his kids for Easter. So I'm at Jupes where I drank a couple of beers and I was getting ready to leave since I only wanted to go for an hour or so. I look up and there's my new guy. Of course I stayed. And drank more. And by more, I mean shots. At some point in the night the new guy wanted to take me to his place to show me around since I hadn't been there yet. We were outside and I didn't have my purse, but he said we'd be back shortly and to just leave it. So off we went. He showed me around and then he showed me some pictures of his family and what not. When we were done I stood to hint that I needed to go back to the bar since we had been there for about an hour and my purse was still at the bar and it was almost closing time. He wanted me to spend the night. He took me back to get my purse. Now the smart thing for me at this point would have been to get in my car and follow him back. I'm not that smart. At least not at that point in time since it'd been nearly two weeks since we'd had sex, I was a little distracted. Sidenote: contrary to popular belief, women DO think about sex that way.
So we go back, have some coital fun and he falls asleep. It's about 3 a.m. and I had told him that I needed to be home at least by 6 since I had the mom's car and I had to get ready for school and all that good stuff. He had to wake up at 4:30 to go and try to catch the next flight out, so I waited. I only slept for about a half hour since I was anxious and paranoid that I would sleep in. 4:15 rolls around and I start trying to wake him up. About 45 minutes later, he's still not responding. I start searching my pretty little head for friends that might be up at five in the morning and love me enough to pick me up to take me to my car. The wife was at the best friends place in North Tempe and three sheets to the wind, so that was a no go. Next was Clint. He was otherwise occupied. I couldn't think of anyone else who would be up at five in the morning and in the area. I tried one more wake up and nothing. I slipped on my chuck's and thought to myself, fuck it I'm walking. So I got my shit and hoofed it. The bar is only about a half mile from where he lives, so it wasn't bad at all. By the time I got home at 5:30 though, I was fully energized from my brisk morning walk and couldn't fall asleep. Then the princess woke up. Then the genius...who happened to be sick and throwing up.
Needless to say, school that day was rough. Although I mostly sat outside and chain smoked since I'd only had two clients for cuts which took me about a half hour each.
When I got home after, I wanted to sleep so bad before the derby game, but the wife needed me to pick her up. No nap for Mal. And that night...that night, I can't even talk about because it was pretty much one of the weirdest nights of my life. Though I will say this...At Casey's this scraggly older lady with herpes on the mouth sat at my table and started talking to me. She started telling me I was "so pretty", "so gorgeous", "so awesome". She then whips out a camera and wants to take my picture. Weird. On the plus side of the weirdness, she bought me a drink which was awesome since I had no money. The shit this woman...married-soon-to-be-divorced to a man...was saying to me, I can't even repeat. But like I said, she was buying me drinks. I know, I'm a whore. And the rest of the night, well, I'm just still in awe of the shit that went down, I can't even talk about it. Oh, and this was after I threw up everything I'd eaten for the past week, and was left still completely wasted. Go Figure. Stupid Jaeger bombers. Wait, I didn't meant it, I love them. But that last one was what triggered it. I shot it, wooed, then proceeded directly to the bathroom. Pass go and collect $200.
All in all a good, strange weekend. It ended nice with an Easter late lunch and my extremely smart, extremely cute (read: i'm biased) kids. The princess fell asleep in my arms...all legs of her.
I must say, I truly live a double life. There are no lies involved, no acting different cause I'm pretty much the same person all around, but a double life nonetheless.
Multiple personality isn't the correct disorder, but it's the first that comes to mind.
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