De-botch-ery

Called Angela up Saturday night asking if she wanted to meet us at Dublin Pub around 10:30-ish. She said she was already planning on going there with friends. So I ran a fresh coat of Kiwi over my boots, strapped on the kilt, and headed out in anticipation of meeting a few new people and hanging out. Immediately upon arrival, a table full of people (all wearing neo-traditional kilts) congratulated me on my utilikilt. I mentioned that I thought I was the only soul between California and New York who wore these thigns. Ego boost. The band was between sets, so we headed to the bar, and on the way I saw Angela. I stopped and said hi to her, and she was her normally receptive self, but her friends just looked at me like I had two heads or something. Oh well.

First off, let me tell you this doesn't end well. I had an emotionally flip-floppy day at work, which almost always points to a crash in the evening. The frosty introduction didn't help either, and one of the guys at the kilt table said something to the tune of "Gee, isn't this just like when the little bee girl finds her people!"

Hot button topic with me, that poor little bee girl. Ever since high school when that video came out, I fantasized about making a bumper sticker that reads "Where the hell is my field of dancing bee people??" Turns out the kilt people were the band, and nobody else in the place was wearing one, indicating that they were wearing them as costumes. Fuck. I was that close to thinking maybe I'm not completely alone.

After riding the mood roller coaster all day, the last thing I need is alcohol to upset my already precarious facade. That little voice in my head screamed "Don't do it!", but my self-destruction sequence had already initiated. 3...2...1...Killian's. Found a place to sit but my back was to the band and my neck was too stiff to watch. I'd've blocked the aisle if I turned completely around. I thought maybe I'd go and talk to Angela some more, but some dude was macking it at her table and I didn't want to stand there and be a cock block discouraging legitimate advances. I left the kids alone so they could play. Then the alcohol kicked in. Ugh. I had a total implosion and suddenly lost all sense of security and courage. Left. Night was botched, and for some reason all I could do was mope around all Sunday.

I did make a sketch of myself in my underwear standing in front of the bathroom mirror. I'll have to show it to you. It's not flattering, but it's the first human figure drawing I've done. For what it is, it's not bad.