Serenity now. Breath in, breath out. Good Danielson.
I'm very cranky this morning and I want to hurt someone, but I'm trying my best to actually do a post that doesn't reflect that anger.
Friday was a good day, as are most Friday's, I mean let's be honest, Friday is the best day of the week, just for the fact that its Friday - its the day that gets you hyped for what the weekend may bring. On Friday the weekend and world is your oyster. On Friday you have nothing but hopes and expectations for what may be. So when I got in touch with my friend Carmine after an 8 month absence, I was completely estatic.
Carmine is someone who saw me through some tough shit. Carmine and I met at work, well kind of. Peter (the asshole) and I used to work out at the gym together everday.....for three whopping weeks. Anyway, Peter worked in the same department as Carmine and everyday we would see Carmine working out and soon enough I was introduced.
Physically, Carmine is an ox - a silverback gorilla more like it. He's a former Marine and he's H.U.G.E. After three weeks, Peter slacked off and Carmine and I got to talking, talking became working out together and then eventually we started hanging out. This was all during the end of my marriage. Things were not good between the hubby and I so any distraction was welcome. The good thing about Carmine was that he too was in the middle of a separation so we had a lot in common.
At this point I was going to the gym about 6 times a week. Why? Because I hated being home and I'd rather work out than be home. Carmine was usually there everyday at the same time as me so it became fitting to work out together. He was a great trainer and wound up being a good friend altogether. Actually, the day my ex left me (I was at work, he's a coward and he sent me an email - a fucking email!!! - but that's another story for another time). I read the email, got up from my desk and walked away. I was shocked. I walked up the stairs and stood in the hall with tears in my eyes - I had no idea where I was walking. My buddy Nick took one look at me and yelled out "CARMINE! GET OVER HERE!" For the next 10 minutes, Carmine let me cry on his shoulder. He held me and let me cry it all out.
We stayed friends for almost 2 years, but he fell on hard times and we lost touch. Fast forward to this past Friday when I was talking to a few other people from his old department (he no longer works here), found out he was ok, got his new cell phone number and gave him a ring. Immediately.
Carmine, is still Carmine. Basically nothing has changed so we made plans for that night to chill out and have a few. Well. Apparenlty I was wrong - to make a long story short, a lot has in fact changed. Yeh, like his need to have sex with me. I shit you not. Although the offer is tempting, I denied him, I even asked him exactly what has changed in two years that all of a sudden he needs to have sex with me - (side note, there were no sexual innuendos, this is all straight forward, blatant talk). He said he doesn't know what it is, but I'm sexy as hell. I won't get graphic, but he even gave me examples as to why I should.
I've blown off our conversation Friday night because seriously, we were pretty fucked up. I mean we started drinking at 6:30 p.m. and didn't stop until 3:00 a.m. Dear God, I don't know how I didn't go into renal dysfunction. He called me twice on Saturday and the first time I didn't pick up, the second time he called I was already partying for awhile and I couldn't have an intelligent conversation if my life depended on it. He asked me if we were "cool" because, uh yeh, he did say some VERY graphic stuff and he wanted to make sure I was ok. Of course I was. Its not like he's the first guy to talk to me like that. Sheesh.
We played phone tag yesterday and when we finally spoke I apologized for my incoherent state on the phone when we spoke. All was back to normal and I don't think this sexual tension will happen again. At least I hope not.
As it is not my custom to party on a Sunday nights (its not just God's day of rest, its Mer's too), I made an exception for Samantha last night. For her birthday she wanted to head down the shore to the Surf Club. Ok, if you are not from Jersey, let me create an atmosphere.
The Surf Club itself is actually pretty big, but its seen better times. When you walk in, you are immediately greeted by a bar. The dance floor (which by the way is the size of living room- as is custom with most NJ dance floors - why I have NO idea) was to the right of that bar. You walk further in and there are another 2 bars, this place is speaking my language - after these two bars you can go outside where the beach is and another 2 bars (yes!).
Here's the problem - it was Guidoville USA, population too many. There was an abundance of drunk juiceheads, not wearing shirts (ok, I'm not complaing all THAT much) wearing only their bathings suits, flip flops, baseball caps and yes, the token backpack. Yes, the guidos were sporting fucking JANSPORT!!!! I doubt a book has ever actually graced the inside of those bookbags, but I digress because there is just too much material here to even go on.
But I wasn't there to make fun of people - too easy - I was there to celebrate and celebrate we did. The only downfall to the night was the fact that I lost my keys. Thank god we didn't take my car, but still that added another hour to my commute home - Trixie had to bring me home for my extra set of keys (after we already drove about and hour and a half home) then return to our other friends' house to get my car. Thus this mornings crankiness.
I've never lost my keys before, I think I handled it rather well too, but still, just another inconvenience to add to my already frustrating life.