I once again had a good time mixed with sore feet, a few things that went sideways and one near throw-down in the airport all wrapped up with a spectacular ending to the weekend. (Thanks, baby.) And since my ridiculously delicate system has turned from soft as a peach to thin as rice paper spending a weekend consuming 4 paltry cocktails, some diet coke, and running around more than usual I was rendered exhausted and threat-level red moody grumpy I hate everything for 2 whole days afterward.
And I've also gotten very lazy since I don't have to write every day (boo, no prizes!!) even though I want to. I swear, I'd work my ass off at the office if I there was a potential for a prize with my paycheck every 2 weeks. I could possibly take home a dancing Santa that flashes his ass? I'LL PUT IN 90 HOURS!! I'm so dumb. Anyway, onto the recap.
I hadn't been feeling well for a few days before I left and had to push visions of spending the entire weekend laying in my bed at home out of my head, because that was a much-craved prospect. But I can usually rally myself and scrape up some energy reserved for naughty talk and shopping so I was hoping this trip would be no exception. And after taking a little nap peppered with panic attacks on the plane I was a little bit refreshed. And sweaty. Refreshingly sweaty.
Matty met me soon after I picked up my suitcase and we headed for the train. We made it back to his apartment without incident (thank you for not being scary this time public transportation!), changed and headed to the Hyatt Regency for dinner and drinks and one most kick-ass glass of wine that I highly recommend and we got the pleasure of being seated next to a couple who loudly argued for 20 minutes about how he never comes over to her place and cuts her off mid-sent...shut up already. Fuck.
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I took my camera in hopes of photographing the astounding amount of lights the Hyatt puts up every year but I'm not that happy with the outcome of 99% of my shots this weekend, (again.) It seems to be hit-or-miss with me in the photography department which is exactly why I'm having an elicit affair with my digital camera since I can shoot 500 frames and erase them all and start over if I want to. But hell, it would be nice to have more than a couple to share. Bah.
The next morning we got ready and headed to the biggest mall west of the Mississippi which did not impress, by the way. I don't like a shopping center that acts like a 29-armed octopus and their food court sucked. Only in SF could you not find a fucking Hot Dog on a Stick but come across fusion free range organic grilled platypus skewers on every corner. For a small fee of one paycheck, please. At least they had plenty of my bff diet coke to take me from a pre-migraine head-splitter into a Christmas shopper. And the platypus wasn't bad.
Between struggling through the throngs of a gazillion Saturday browsers and paying $6.00 & change for 4 small pieces of gourmet chocolate we hit the street to shop there, where we found the rest of the population of Northern California and quite a few yelly homeless people and one dude screaming about Jesus into a megaphone. Nothing like hearing about the Almighty Lord through a distorted speaker and impatient taxi horn honks.
We hit a toy store later because I loves me some toys, and when we walked in we spied a little boy sitting in a little car pretending to drive. And being the world's educator that I am, I said to him, "You say honk, honk, GET OUTTA MY WAY." And like a good little parrot he repeated me exactly. Then I got in trouble for being a bad influence.
Finally I found one, count it, one Christmas gift of the whole weekend and we headed off for a cocktail because, shit, we needed a cocktail. Honk, honk, GET OUTTA MY WAY.
On the way back to the apartment to relax before our dinner plans we can across the famous parrots of Telegraph Hill being fed by a group of people in the park next to Matty's apartment building. It was really exciting. I used to be petrified of birds but when the man with the giant sack of seeds offered me a handful I didn't hesitate and in less than a second I was mobbed. Crazy little fuckers.
After decorating Matty's cute little balcony with some lights we headed over to the gayborhood for some Sushi where another million people were all crammed into tiny establishments and there was a long and many-subject argument with me yelling "And how do you know my ass doesn't get eaten on a regular basis!?!" which is something I didn't think I'd ever utter not-to-mention argue about and a certain someone did something naughty and I got really mad but then we made up and after a drink was spilled it was determined that I was right and probably always am. GET OUTTA MY WAY!
The last stop of the night was to wish a friend a happy birthday in a giant lesbian bar where a miniature lesbian barback kept ramming into my butt (seriously, it's not that huge tiny lesbian!) and someone puked and we left. Then Matty and I had a great convo in the cab and the driver complimented our relationship and in his thick Russian accent said we were "very good conversational" which we really are. One last ciggie on the balcony and it was off to bed.
I woke up early the next morning without a raging headache which is a miracle on account of I was served rat piss in the name of wine the night before (is chardonnay supposed to be the color of rancid apple juice?) and saw an interesting sunrise trying to break through the haze. It was so bright I was sure my retinas had popped out of my head an onto the floor so I closed my eyes, lifted the camera and clicked. Notice the askew...
Sunday got a bit screwed up with the plans and brunch was scratched and time for more shopping slipped away. New friends flew in for a visit so they picked us up in their rental car, we dropped them off after an hour-long trek through a 5 mile long street with a Catholic church on every corner, and after snagging the rental car for ourselves were off to the airport for my late afternoon flight. Matty and said a quick goodbye and I was on my way.
After a semi-uneventful plane ride, with only one panic attack (go me!), we landed back in San Diego and I mosied to baggage claim to get my suitcase. And this is where I almost killed a queen.
I was standing there minding my own business when the turnstyle started up and bags were catapulting down the slide. My side of the baggage thingy had gotten really crowded but there was plenty of room on the other side. I would have moved accept I was there first and the crowd had grown 3 people thick behind me.
Without warning this guy shrieks in an extremely annoyed voice, "EXCUSE ME", then GRIPS his hand ON my arm and SHOVES me to the left and out of his bony assed way. Well, that pissed me right the fuck off. I'm not easily intimidated and I'm sick to shit of people being assholes because they're banking on the fact that most people won't challenge them. But guess what, mother effer, I'm not most people.
The first thing that popped out of my mouth was the retro pre-school teacher in me and with a raised voice I said,
"Hey! Words work you know!!"
I wasn't satisfied with that so I added, "DON'T TOUCH ME!!"
The self-entitled pissy queen hissed as me and snotilly said, "WELL! Someone's had a bad day."
Which I then replied, "No, you are being a jerk."
And then he said "You don't have to be such a nasty BITCH about it!"
Oh. No. You did NOT go there, little man. I am tired. I just FLEW on an AIRPLANE which I HATE and I was standing here MINDING my own BUSINESS and you didn't even give me a CHANCE to get out of your WAY before you PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME without my PERMISSON and have you NOTICED that I OUTWEIGH your skinny ass by MANY pounds?
You can call me a cunt. You can call me an idiot. But when you call me a bitch is usually means I'm standing up for myself against some fucker who thinks they can say or do whatever the hell they want to and them thar are figthing words to me. So through my growing red face I pursed my lips and tersely said;
"You. Shouldn't. SHOVE. People."
Which I was hoping would be the end of it because I was right and he was wrong but no. He just had to open his yapper again and spat, "I didn't shove you" and made a snorty sound so I finished it off by roaring;
"OH SHUT THE FUCK UP!!"
Then I keeeled him.
Alright, I didn't kill him but man, was I PISSED. If he'd said one more thing, looked at me with even the corner of his beady little eye, or breathed the wrong way I was prepared to tackle him to the ground scratch his eyes out then shove my boarding pass into his skull. And to make matters worse some little whore standing next to me made oh my god faces at her travel companion then proceeded to giggle patronizingly until I got my bag an excrutiating 10 minutes later and left.
I went outside to cool off and call for the park-n-ride shuttle van, thinking that my most unpleasant experience was over and done with. Little did I know. I made my way up the very wide and spacious sidewalk ramp, stopped over to the left and started to dial. No sooner did I get my cell phone out did a mother pushing a stroller past me spew another snippy and undeserved "EX-CA-USE ME!" And I was like, what the fuck is going on here?
She had at least 4 feet of space to push her rat through and since I didn't have to move a fucking muscle obviously she knew it too, she just wanted to be a crab. And once again, another fucker couldn't leave it at that. She just had to put the cherry on my shit evening and added, "Gawd, you're totally standing in the middle." Which is clear to all of us I was not!
So, I keeeled her too.
No, I didn't. But I did kind of really lose it this time and in front of a shit-ton of people and shuttle vehicles, turned towards the bitchy bitcher and yelled;
"JESUS CHRIST! FUCK OFF!!"
I didn't waste a second to see if she'd heard me or reacted and I went back to dialing my phone were I politely and nicely asked for a pick up then turned around to see the 2 GOD DAMN GIGGLING WOMEN STANDING 3 FEET BEHIND ME.
~sigh~
I managed to get home without incident, magically irritating anyone else or committing strangercide and into the arms of my baby who had a pizza, chicken kickers and gooey cheesy bread waiting for me. Then I shagged the shit out of him and went to bed.
The End.
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