Who am I, for chrissakes, anyway?

I hate when I'm walking around and going on my bizarre thought pattern paths and I think "I need to remember to google that question" but then I get in front of a computer and I can't remember anything. Except maybe wanting to look up how portable devices fck with airplanes during takeoff and landing.

I'm back and there was a moment last night when I was tripping on boxes in the dark and going down like a child falling while learning to walk that was induced by grain alcohol sold to me by a New Orleanian club fag who hated Oleta Adams and I thought "I'm not going to make it" and I got really really angry about something and mostly let it go except I had to finish it like Shun kicking ass in Virtua Fighter.

Wait, first, go here to see pictures of me singing karaoke at Damon's going away celebration.

It scares me that those events took place nine days ago because it seems like a month. I've only been gone for, oh....let's do the math here....five days, four if you only count Thursday and Monday as half-days since they were travel days, but it was a helluva a vacation and mthafcker almost made me cry on the plane when I listened to his voicemail saying it's bad that I came down with him to New Orleans because now he's used to having me down there with him New Orleans. Crying like a baby, well, not yet, but on the verge. Can't really think about it. So instead I focus my energy on downgrading drama from a 'serious anger problem' to a 'just needed you to know to diffuse the situation problem' and instead decided to yell and freak out about Cordelia on Angel. Much much better.

I'm happy to be home. Happy to see dommeyourass. Happy to go to sleep in my bed with her in it. Happy to sort out my various stories of the weekend for recording later, including such titles as:

Hamtastic
That's some southern isht
That's some faggot b!tch isht,
Gennifer Flowers called you a local, aka Gennifer Flowers flirted with you, aka Gennfer Flowers asked you out, aka "Sometimes we lose people"
Even I don't like to eat trash
Nelly Deli

But that will have to wait, as tomorrow I have a meeting, then curriculum-preparing, then teaching my first writing workshop. I'm excited and nervous, or rather, I will be once I actually re-enter my life because right now I'm still stuck on Cordelia going craaaaaazy and trying to adjust to the fact that I woke up in a place that was 85 degrees and 90% humidity and now I"m going to sleep under quilts and it will frost outside. That's wrong. Humans aren't supposed to move through climates that quickly, it's unnatural.

Oh, and thanks to penpusher for being a rocking transcriber.