Observations about Nothing. And Washing Machines.

Went to Underground last night with Dave, Ricardo, pussycatmeow, and zeppelinangel. Danced. Drank. Talked. Watched much of the night melt away rather quickly. Drank some more thanks to Ricardo, and then flyered.

There was some fun. There was also some comedown for me. Perhaps it is the continuing feeling of sinking into my own personal moronic despair of The Big Lonely. Perhaps it is the realization that my vacation is quickly approaching close.

Maybe I'm just tired again.

Dave dropped us off, and Ricardo and I stole down to The Shorehouse Cafe down in Long Beach, now restored to it's 24 Hour goodness. Ricardo had never been there, and I had not in far too long. Lots of HUGE portions for a decent price. Yeah. Good food. BIG food.

Ricardo and I sat and talked about this that and the other thing: Life, Work, Love, Money, Women. Family. In between being buzzed, and pontificating, we oggled the waitress. And some other customers. What do you want? We're guys. It's difficult not to oggle.

I made it home to a house full of snoring and darkness. Mom and Grandma had just gotten back from doing the Casino thing again. I think that they are both a little bit miffed with me for not wanting to go back to the Grand Canyon with them this week, but you know...it was a trip for me. Selfish, perhaps, but true. This was a time for me to do stuff for myself. Lots of which I haven't been able to do, or willing to do for some time now. Much of it surrounded me just being me. And Stupid. I deserve to be stupid from time to time, yes?

I walked out back to the washing machine where I'd been trying to get some laundry done all day. The damn thing kept flopping out during the spin cycle. Instead of nice, damp, cold clothes, I kept getting sopping, dripping wet clothes. Can't put that into the dryer. No. Can't finish anything with that like that, can you? No. So I set it on spin cycle, again, and hoped that it would get through.

But I guess I had to make it spin again this morning. Spinning. Going around in circles and not getting any better.

I had a quick freak out this morning. For some reason I thought that I was running late for work. I jumped up. Right out of some neat and twisted sexually charged nightmare featuring vampires, and Canada. And an off kilter punk band. While playing Call of Cthulhu. At a cocktail party. Where there were bicycles. And Clowns.

So I woke up, sweating, and kind of freaked out, and the sun was shining, and I swore I was late for work...and something felt broken. My clothes were still on, and there was the imprint of the buckle from my wristband on my cheek. I had one shoe on.

I got up, and took the other shoe off, realized that it was 8:30 on a saturday, and tried to lay back down. Mom and Grandma decided to come in my room and tell me about their night, and to get me up. Fucking ay...and they only got back in an hour before I did. So I just listened.

Got back up and walked out to the Washing Machine. Put on spin again. Let it go, and went back to bed. Dreamed of hockey, and dancing, and kisses over the Grand Canyon. And of crying. About what, I'm not entirely sure.

Woke up again, and went out to find that thankfully, the washing machine had finished spinning. Time to move on. I stuck the clothes in the dryer, hit the button, and then tossed in the next load. And, just before I started it running, I took off my pants and tossed them in.

Now I'm waiting for the ding. Then it'll be time to move to the next thing.