2001-02-27 - 14:43:06
*whew* Where to start.
Friday after work, I went to have a beer with my older brother. [I suppose you could say that after-work pints on Friday are a tradition for the two of us - at least since I turned 21.] We knew that Soulard was to be avoided [because of Mardi Gras celebrations], and the Tap Room [brewpub where I wanted to go] was chock-full, so we wound up at Blueberry Hill [the classic U. City bar where Chuck Berry does a monthly show]. One pint of Fat Tire each, and dinner too... I can't complain at all, even if I did pay for dinner.
On the way home from Blueberry Hill, stopped off to visit a mutual friend [called M1 in this entry] at work [briefly]. Made arrangements for the Mardi Gras parade the next day. Home from there, goofed off, then to bed.
Up the next morning at 8ish - I got to sleep in, haha - to get together for the parade. Showered, dressed, ate something real fast. I called M1 at 9 to see what the transportation deal was - she was going to the grocery store [to buy a fifth of vodka, I'd later discover] and wanted to know if I wanted anything. I said no, we agreed on 9:30, and that's when she pulled up.
Drove to a convenience store, where she bought a 32oz. fountain drink [pink lemonade because the Hawaiian Punch was out] and I hit the ATM. From there to her house, where she transferred most of the vodka to an empty water bottle [breaking several laws in the process] before going in to get her younger sister [M2] and M2's very gay friend [S*]. [Even though S*'s sexuality was readily apparent to both M1 and me after about 3 seconds, M2 had to be informed after 4 months. She's a budding fag hag though.] S* drove his mother's car from Evansville [where he and M2 go to school] and we conned him into driving it to the parade.
So. After driving around arguing about where to park [M1 and S* said pay to park close, M2 and I said save the money and walk a bit], we wound up paying $5 to park moderately close to the parade route. I was put in charge of where we'd stand, so we walked, dammit. Spiked M1's pink lemonade, saw a few people I went to high school with, bought a beer [and got carded twice while in line for it], and staked out a good spot at 7th and Allen.
It was about 45 degrees [Fahrenheit] and overcast, but once we got near our spot, it started raining - gently at first, then HARD, then on and off. We crossed to our spot and waited for the parade to start. The crowds filled in - a group of about 6 hardcore lesbians on our right, a group of about 6 hardcore drunks on our left - and started throwing beads back and forth across the street at each other.
One young woman across the street got up on someone's shoulders and yelling for beads. Our lesbian neighbors shouted "Show us your tits!" She obliged, and was thrown beads by the groups on either side of me. I think the 14-year-old boys in front of the young woman enjoyed the show more, though. Soon the young woman brought out a jester's hat full of Jell-O shots... very popular among the lesbians, drunks, and M1. M1 and M2 started flirting with the cop across the street, I had beer #2 [and carding #3], and then the parade started. It was 11 o'clock, and some people already needed to be cut off.
The parade itself was quite a bit of fun - me, M1/2, S*, the lesbians, the drunks, and everybody else screaming at the top of our collective lungs; the young woman with the Jell-O shots flashing the krewe of very gay men and not getting any beads; my older brother and his band playing Sousa marches full-blast and still not making a dent in the crowd noise; me fighting with M1 and the lesbians for some kickin' iridescent fish beads and winning ["You may have won this battle, kid, but I'm winning the war," said one big mama-dyke, eyes narrowed and voice full of liquor and gravitas]; S* running across the street to kiss the purple-clad drag queen in front of a group of homophobes; parents whoring out their children to get beads ["Look! Give the cute little kid beads!"
You probably think I'm a lush. OK, maybe. Most people don't have 4 pints of beer by 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Then again, Mardi Gras only happens but once a year... [This is despite what we told S* - that this is just a typical Saturday for us.]
After the parade, the four of us made our way up Seventh, where we'd meet my older brother and 2 friends of his and M1's. Once we'd hooked up, S* and M2 left - they were underage, and the rest of the day was the "stand around and get plastered" part of Mardi Gras, so they couldn't really do anything - and M1, A*, L*, my older brother, and I headed off to find food and Hurricanes. Found both - M1 put vodka in the already-very-alcoholic Hurricanes - and started consuming en route to another friend-of-M1's-and-my-older-brother's, D* [who lives in Soulard]. D* was supposed to have a small party, and we were all invited, but he got locked out of his house... I had made arrangements to meet up with a few people I know from the Complex at a different bar, in Soulard, so I took my leave of those 4 and headed off in search of Clementine's.
I had no clue where it was. I'll admit that now. All I knew was "it's on Menard", which did me no good because I didn't know where Menard was. Somehow, though, I found the place [maybe it was the big rainbow flags or the techno-tent], and found people I knew.
Much of what happened there was a beer-laden blur. They had drag races, though, which were pretty funny, and I had half a shot of Jägermeister dumped down my front [nasty!], and a bunch of tall people around me got cool beads thrown by a drag queen from a window. I made plans for later that night and headed home.
At home, changed shirts [eww, Jägermeister...], got my mail [including my new Leatherman! woo-hoo! played with that for a while and absentmindedly put it on my belt], napped ever-so-briefly, and baked cookies [my mother and brothers insisted]. Headed out again at 20:40.
Stopped by the Drake [the piano bar] before I hit the Complex. They MADE me sing, so i did the entire Broadway repertoire for solo baritone [Old Man River]. Picked on AJ; headed to the Complex at 10:50. Once again, they let me in [yay!].
I'm not sure if it was the earlier boozing, the more recent boozing, or the melancholy song I sang, but I just wasn't into the Complex. In fact, I seriously considered not coming back. [It's the Clubkid Crisis of Faith.] Spent a lot of time outside [it was kinda nice, actually], by myself, just watching reality from the terrace of the Palace of Lies. Mike, who I think sees himself in me [did that make any sense?], did an OK job of trying to cheer me up, but I'm still not sure about his plans to bring me "out of [my] shell". Exhausted, left at 2ish, got home, "do i really smell that bad?", to bed.
Next day: up too early, boring church service, home and couldn't sleep [grrr]. Shopping with my mother - trying to find black pants, wound up buying black pants, plates, bowls, mugs, and a tea kettle. Also food [she and I would be cooking].
Came home, attempted sleep again, failed again. Gave up. Cooked dinner - I sauteed some mushrooms in a red wine sauce, and they were yummy - and baked beer bread [3c. self-rising flour, 1/2c. sugar, 12 oz. flat beer [this time was Killian's Irish Red], mix, pour in greased bread pan, bake 45 min. at 350 degrees, pour 1/4lb. [1 stick] melted butter over top, bake another 15 min.]. Ate. Watched "The Simpsons" and "Malcolm in the Middle". Goofed off. Went to bed.
Monday - to work, yuk, where I did work stuff. At lunch, got knuckle-fit bandages for a cut on my right index finger [ouch] and cough drops [something about being outside in the rain all day Saturday].
I had volunteered to work a concession stand at the Blues game for our international projects, so I cut out of work at about 4 to change into my new $6.95 black pants and a dark long-sleeved shirt. We headed down to the Kiel Center, got in through the media entrance [wow, we're cool], and ate half-price concession food for a while before hitting our stand.
They stuck me on a register. :) And I got to serve beer. By the end of the night I had brought in over $800 [10% of which we got to keep] and had absorbed quite a bit of Bud Light through osmosis [and through the cut on my right index finger, hehe]. The Blues won, 7-2, but we only got to see the final seconds live. [They had TVs all over showing the ESPN2 broadcast, but said broadcast had a 2-second delay - we heard the cheers and foghorn before we saw the goal. it was surreal.]
Now here at work, battling an automatic bank draft that doesn't want to transmit. grrr.
[Sorry if I seem a bit terse - I get that way when I fall behind.]
