Nails, Nails, Nails

Oh Halloween..... this is the FIRST year that I have been toying with the idea of staying home and drinking in a less "let me grind my man bits on your ass parts" bar kind of way. Maybe it's the whole marriage thing, or maybe its the fact that I no longer have the patience it once took to put up with that type of shit. Seriously. I make better drinks than the bar does, I play music I like, I don't have to pay extremely high prices, AND I can dance NAKED in my living room FOR FREE without fear of being arrested. Horrible flashbacks are repeating in my mind of when I thought it would be a good idea to go to THE MULE (seedy night club in Penticton) to see Sak Noel. Ok the truth is I got free tickets and figured it would be a good excuse to drink my face off; so I went.  I didn't even know his one hit; "what the fuck," but that didn't really seem to matter because it only had three words in it anyway and I was too mesmerized by his coked-out dancers to really give two shits. Thank Christ the tickets were free. The precious hours of my life however? I will never get back. Where the balls is this post going??

My point, I think, is that I find as I am getting "older" I have discovered myself to be much better company than the other 99% of the population. Don't get me wrong, at most times I can't stand myself and I truly do pity the poor bastard that married me - he is long suffering. BUT! Even if I was single and looking; the last goddamn place I would go would be the bar; christ, I would have better odds at the Greyhound station in Merrit than take my chances elsewhere. Maybe it's the way I party, because no matter the shit hole or "happenin'" city I find myself in, I always have some messed up experience; like that time at Pride in Vancouver where I got lost, bought a transvestite named Tamara a cheese dog from 7-11, and took (what should have been a 5 min cab ride)  for 45 minutes because for the life of me I could not remember where my hostel was. To make matters worse I had to "bunk up" with a hostel mate that I didn't know and who had more hair on her legs than a male gorilla. I have never wanted a shower so bad in my life. On the plus side I managed to acquire someone else's t-shirt and their gucci sunglasses. HMMMM.

Ok, one more mention of babies here because I feel it is necessary to defend what may be interpreted as "human hate." So not two days after my mention of "baby Facebook," I go in to get my nails done at "Nails, Nails, Nails," which is usually a sanctuary of sorts for me as "Bella" speaks little English but makes nice conversation with me regardless. So anyway, within 5 minutes of sitting down she tells me that she is pregnant; naturally, I am excited for her and begin to ask her questions about "how far along she is," and "what names does she like." Within seconds the conversation turns to "how to get pregnant," which is not something I am looking for information on or "coaching" for that matter. My apprehension didn't seem to phase her and for the next 45 minutes, through broken english and hand gestures, I was able to make out; "cum" "lay on your back for 4 hours afterwards," "do it at 4am so you can go back to sleep," AND, "keep your legs in the air." WHAT THE FRICKEN FRACK!!! Even my nail lady is in on this. May I point out, that if conceiving a baby requires me to stay on my back for 4 hours and have sex in the early am; you can count this bitch out.

I am seriously convinced that Jesus is against me; the following evening I was "holding it" until I got home when an unexpected urge to sneeze appeared and I ended up pissing my skirt in the lobby of my apartment building. I thought this shit only happened to women who have HAD babies?? As my mother said, " you better start doing some "exercises" if that's the state you're in."