Well, we finally got the Christmas tree up.
It seems my parents finally gave up on the idea of forcing me to go up into the attic and sent my mother up. She complained about backaches all day, mainly because she doesn't have the good sense to simply crawl around up there, instead of walking hunched-over.
I just realized that the old guy, John Glenn, is safely out of space. Man, am I ever disappointed. I thought they were getting him up there to shove him out the airlock and leave them there. No, apparently that garbage they fed us about "testing the effects of zero gravity on the elderly" was really the reason they sent him up.
This week-end was alright. On Friday, we hung out with Katie, ate at Bobbie's, and discussed in-depth just how much Dirk and I disliked Ryan. Katie gave him a talking-to during the week in which she told him just how irritating what passed for his "personality" was. Dirk and I thought that was hilarious. Almost as hilarious as the fact that Ryan had been under the impression I only mildly disliked him. Oh no....Ryan was far beyond the Point of No Return.
After eating and Amusing Ourselves At The Expense Of Others (our favorite pastime), We retired to Katie's house, so Dirk could nap while Katie and I talked. Actually, we read graphic novels and chatted a bit, when we got bored reading comics we'd already read. Then, Katie came along when I brought Dirk to work, and Katie and I went back to her place. Then, it was time to trade deep, dark secrets and talk about sex.
I love hanging out with Katie. She's the only person I know who really knows how to have fun. Everyone else wants to talk about politics, saving the world, or other useless garbage.
As a side note, I haven't gotten any more suspicious e-mail. I e-mailed that guy in Canada back and gave him the probable e-mail addresses of who he'd chatted with, and I never heard from him again. I guess I was right about who the asshole(s) were that gave him my address.
On Saturday morning, I was woken up at the ungodly hour of 9 a.m. to go to Price Club in Crystal City. It was a madhouse. The only worthwhile part about the trip was that they were giving out free samples of food.
Then, I got ready for practice, had a hell of a time getting Dirk up, and mailed off a package. We bought some munchies, and off we headed. Practice was pretty good. DoShu showed up, and even in time to practice with us a little. As we were clearing out, another band came in...man, these guys were assholes! First, they were complaining about the drum set (which Richard had replaced with a sixties-era Beatles' style set, because the original one was needed for a gig) and bitching about the fact that the stool had been replaced with a chair. Then, they referred to DoShu as "Yoda". I was waiting with baited breath for DoShu to respond, but he ignored them. I found out later that he hadn't even heard them. I was ready to take their asses out, even if they were over six feet tall.
Then we went to ChiChi's with DoShu. He is the funniest guy I've ever met. He spent half the evening regaling us with stories of the job he just quit, while Dirk and I just clutched ourselves and laughed.
Sunday was a strange day. I went to pick up Dirk, ended up napping for a couple hours, then woke to the sound of his mother screaming. She'd spent the night at her mother's (who knew she was still alive?), and came back in a psychotic mood. She'd just finished throwing Aaron out onto the street (which he took no notice of. He just sat in his room and turned the music up loud enough to drown her out), when she turned on Dirk. She shouted at him, shoved him around, then finished off her little performance by throwing him out of the house, as well. I was ushered downstairs by an amazingly calm Dirk. So, I found his father, informed him that his wife was going bonkers, then sat on the couch and listened while Dirk's mother proclaimed that Aaron and Dirk weren't allowed to have friends over anymore. When Dirk's father questioned the logic behind this decision, saying, "Agent Skatter didn't do anything. Why should she be banned from the house?," Dirk's mother came back with "They're acting like asses! I won't have other people seeing them act like asses!"
Dirk's father came down and asked me if I'd seen anyone act like an "ass." My response? "Yes. Your wife." He just laughed and told me I wasn't supposed to say that.
Ten minutes later, Dirk and Aaron came down, ready to go. Obviously, everything was okay again. When I questioned Dirk about it, because he didn't seem at all upset about the incident, he said, "I understand why she does that."
Maybe that says something about my tolerance. I understand why my mother is an evil bitch, but it still upsets me. Maybe because I know that if she just tried a little harder, she could be decent to everyone. She just doesn't want to.
The three of us went to Starbuck's, to get my father a couple bags of their "Christmas Blend". He's in love with this coffee, for some reason, so that's what he's getting for Christmas. Just in case you think I'm wimping out on his gift, each 1 lb. bag costs $11.00. I might even throw in some socks, just for nostalgic value.
We also bought iced lattes, my first coffee-related product in nearly a year. (The last time I had coffee anything was back in January or February, and it was at the same Starbuck's).
Sunday night was spent shopping for gift wrapping, because I thought our Christmas paper was too ugly. So I got nice designer-looking stuff with silver designs on it.
Dirk had a nightmare while I was in Wal-Mart, consisting of people trying to damage my car and people attacking me in the store. So, I'll never be able to bring Dirk to Wal-Mart again. He was really traumatized.
Monday was hectic. I had to pay off my parking ticket fine (because they were threatening to make a notation on my father's credit history), and help Dirk shop for his family's gifts. If you need cheap jewelry, go to Ames. They were selling fifty-dollar diamond rings. And they didn't even have those irritating settings that attempt to hide the fact that your "diamond" is nothing more than a chip. Nope, these were real diamonds, even large enough to count as semi-impressive. So, how did they make them so cheap? They were probably not much better than industrial-grade. Industrial grade, for those of you who don't spend your free time figuring out how much money you'd get if you pawned certain items of jewelry, is the stuff they use on really nice drill bits and glass cutters. It's a diamond...but it's not a great diamond.
My father came home unexpectedly early. What makes this noteworthy is the fact that he spotted my car in front of the house, figured he didn't want to "burst in unexpectedly on anything," and called me from his car phone. Then he drove around the block while Dirk and I assembled our clothing and scurried out of the house like a couple of rats. We arrived at Dirk's house with Dirk holding my bra (it would have taken too long to put on). When I got home after dropping Dirk off (and putting on my bra), my father openly admitted that he "probably knew what was going on," and had called ahead to give me time to escape. My family is odd.
Last night, I went out and bought Dirk's Christmas gift. It's an Epiphone Les Paul Jr. Double Cutaway in black. $154. It's not nearly so expensive as last year's guitar (which was about $400). I'm not exactly rich, and I'm saving up to move out, but I couldn't deny Dirk this gift....especially when you consider the fact that he's spending a hell of a lot of money on my presents this year.
I have very simple reasons for buying him guitars. 1) They're the only real joy in his life, other than me. 2) He buys me expensive stuff frequently, now that he has a job. 3) He's really great in bed. I mean, fantastic.
You wouldn't expect a girl to have the same underlying reasons as a guy, would you? Call me liberated. Of course, the major, all-encompassing reason is that I love him and making him happy makes me happy. But the sex is a pretty big factor.
Anyway, Dirk doesn't know I bought him the guitar. I've got him convinced that I'm too poor to buy him anything. The people at the store I got the guitar at love me....I bought his guitar last year from them, and I bought my bass and case from them. They perk up whenever they see me. So, those of you who know Dirk and I in real life, try to keep the secret, okay?
I've got to get out of here....I have an exam tonight, and I'd like to say I passed at least one class this semester.
Always remember I love all of you. Especially those of you who hate me.