Dear very nice man with whom I bet I have a lot in common,

We shared a brief, and yet completely hilarious and very touching moment at the Detroit Cobras show at Detroit sometime last week or so. I never got your name, and truth be told I don't even remember what you look like. I think you had brown hair? I'm like 90% sure you're a dude? I'm sorry, but my beer was almost empty and I was headed to the bar for another, so it goes without saying that my pace was somewhere around warp drive.

But back to that beer. It was prematurely empty because moments before I had tossed it over the head of some douchebag. I'd only gotten about two sips in before my dial went to HULK SMASH, so yes, I needed a replacement, ASAP.

This particular guy was being an above-average jackass to a large number of people on a relatively small dancefloor, and so you, as well as several other people, heartily approved of this beer pouring action. In fact, that night marked the first time I've ever been applauded for throwing alcohol (down anything other than my throat), and I'd be lying if I said I didn't warm my heart just a bit.

So on my way to the bar you (kind, sweet, generous person) stopped me and attempted to refill my nearly finished beer with yours! How kind. Only, uh, you were drinking Jack and Coke. Still, the sentiment was greatly appreciated, and I wanted to let you know that. Someone who would attempt to refill a girl's drink after she so painfully had to sacrifice it for the good of the majority? You sir, are my people.

And while I am definitely taken (mostly. No, I kid! Hi, Baby! See?! Totally taken! Honey, please don't beat me tonight.) you are clearly the kind-hearted, thoughtful, and generous type that I wouldn't think twice about setting up with one of my lady friends. Though they would probably chew you up and spit you out by oh, day three. Come on, I throw beer at people, what kind of females do you think I hang out with? (At the last Detroit Cobras show at the Galaxy, one of my ladies threw a beer bottle at someone and then spit IN THEIR FACE. Dude, I am totally the quiet one of the bunch, I AM NOT EVEN JOKING.)

Cheers,

Joey
The pale girl in the panther t-shirt

P.S. Of course I drank (some of) it. I had to know.

Cute! And funny!

Oh yeah, and totally heartbreaking, too!

China 5.12 Earthquake Strips by Coco Wang (via Jezebel)

You just awwwwwwwed, didn't you?

I KNEW IT.

It's nice to know that when you're going through a rough time, the people who love you will be there for you.

Except when they aren't.

Instead, they go out of their way to be hurtful. That very tough, very private thing you're going through? Just another thing for them to use against you.

Lovely.

This weekend has done precious little to convince me that being alone is not in fact an appropriate and helpful way of dealing with things.

So let me be, and I'll be fine.

Really.

Besides pandas and kittys?

PUPPIES!

(Really, there is no excuse for not having seen this one coming.)

The fucking CUTENESS, no? I'm so thankful that I have some little loves to curl up with:

Who, check it out, totally tag team in their snuggling efforts:

Yup. Just about all warm and fuzzy now. And making my foray back out among the public by getting shitfaced (not driving, hurrah!) at the Rainbow tonight should help quite nicely with that feeling, too.

Cheers.

Hi there! Why yes, it has been awhile. But, you see, I've just been so busy, what with all of the drinking (which, come to think of it, there hasn't been a whole lot of. Pick your jaw up!) the reading, the sleeping, and the crying.

Oh, that last one? Nothing to worry about. There's not a whole lot of it going on, except when there's so much that I can't breathe. This causes problems with the reading and the sleeping, so that's where the drinking, generally in the form of a glass of wine (knock-out juice, how I love thee) comes in.

But enough about that. I'm fine. Really! See this smile? It's huge! Just F-I-N-E, I say. Let's talk about you. How are YOU?

...

Oh. This doesn't really work that way. Well.

Fuck.

Uh, how about them Dodgers?

Oh yeah. Again: fuuuuuck.

I try not to get too personal or over-sharey on here, and so I have no idea how to write about what I'm going through right now. The first option: I could just not write anything at all. And while isolating oneself is something (like drinking!) that I consider an art form rather than something self-destructive, I genuinely enjoy posting here. It's something I'd gotten used to, and (to my surprise) I've missed.

It would also be quite nice to stop receiving angry "Where the fuck are you? You owe it to me to post. I visit!" emails. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

The second option is to just avoid the topic, and write about other things. But you see, there are no other things. There is just THIS thing, and it is big, and it is staring me in the face and it won't look away. The fucker Won't. Even. Blink.

Instead, I'm going with the third option. I toe the line, and write about feeling particularly bad (yeah...that's one way to put it) though I won't go into the specifics of why. And that's how it's going to be. Sometimes I find it cathartic to write about what I'm going through (even if in a very vague manner) and perhaps this is one of those times. We'll see.

I'm not trying to drum up curiousity (dear, sparkling readers, I have no doubt that your own lives are just full of personal intrigue and you're not over there wringing your hands about mine) and I'm not passive aggressively hoping for someone/anyone to ask me about this ordeal (in fact, please don't) so let's just agree that some days suck and sometimes you cry and sometimes the only firm decision you can make is that staying indoors and working on a bottle of Jameson is all you can be expected to do for the next week or two or five. The end.

...I mean, the end, unless someone can arrange for one of these:

Because I could really, really go for that right now.

(COULDN'T WE ALL?)