So, I met Kevin's new boyfriend. I don't want to commit liable or slander or any of that crap. So I'll try to be objective.

He made a terrible, terrible first impression. And you only get one of those, folks. He was supposed to be at Woody's, we were supposed to see him there. I ran into Eileen there, of all people, places, and times. Thank god, otherwise I would have been wicked fucked. Anyway, so Kevin introduces me to him and this kid is staggering drunk and I find it kind of amusing. Except he's not really an amusing drunk. So I let the two squabble about, right.

Well, here's my rule of thumb to determine if someone is drunk. It's pretty much foolproof, in that I've never seen it fail, though it probably can. Ask someone what they've had to drink. The more accurately they can describe what they've imbibed, the less they've had. If the give a response like Kevin's, "oh I had two shots" I reply "two shots of what?" "Beer" "You did two shots of beer?" "No! Two shots of amarillo [amaretto, vanilla??] and then beer" "Oh! I love amarillos, how long ago did you drink them?" And then he walks away shouting "I don't want to talk to your ex boyfriend."

So I walk past them on my way to hang out with Eileen some more. That's how the rest of the night goes until like 2:30 when I decide I should leave, and if I'm taking Kevin with me, then it'll take at least an hour to get home. TIme to rally the troops. I walk back over, ignore new BF since I'm too fucking old for this shit, tell Kevin I'm leaving and he says he's coming with. So we leave. The new BF about 20 minutes later calls us from behind the wheel of his car. Then, when we're hanging out at Kevin's house (completely innocent, mind you, his mother was in the room, too) he informs us that they were also on E and vomitting at the side of the road. I, experienced in fucked up druggie rehab as well as certified in First Aid and have many friends who are EMT's, would have told them to finish their vomitting and make a b-line for water, keep an eye on eachother, and if bad shit happens, get to a hospital. But whatever. He calls when he's home in Marcus Hook, and we called it a night.

Kevin and I talked about dreams, did some flag twirling (I really like colorguard...Maya, we should most def try and keep it up if we can, I still have my flag since I didn't know where to drop it off at the end of school). Then we pecked eachother's cheeks and left.

The night was damned from the get-go. I got stuck in a conversation with my mom before I left (par for the course), and then I'm grabbing my old driver's license (which I kept for occasions such as this) from my safe. To get into my safe, you need to use scissors in a secret way, and with those scissors, I surgically removed a chunk of my finger's skin. So I couldn't leave since i was bleeding profusely, that's when my mom kissed it better, and believe it or not, it stopped bleeding. Then I accidentally took the scenic route into the city. I cut my finger so I didn't have my good-luck rings, I didn't gel my hair, I forgot to put on scent. kevin and I wore the same shoes...it was cute. Woody's has a good DJ. I've been to a few dozen clubs in my time, and Woody's definitely takes the cake from where i've been. The "Theater Club" in Tel Aviv was pretty decent, too, but it was mostly Hebrew songs.

It was fun, overall. During the 6 month Kevin and I went out (to date, my longest relationship, and my first real one) I always wanted to take Kevin there. He's done a lot of growing up this past year and a half. And yet, I still see what I saw in him, if that makes sense. And I know he reads this, so I'm not gonna get too mushy.

When it rains, it pours, too. In the past 6 months, I've met 3 really amazing guys...all amazing. Sigh. Poor me.

And scene.

- Written on 2004-07-15 at 9:45 p.m.