elwood

right. So, after all of the whining I have done about people disappearing without a word, I let my account expire and essentially did the same thing, all the while owing several people replies and promised stories. My sincerest apologies. Life is already filled with enough false promises and disappointments, and I certainly do not wish to add to that.

Friday is my 29th birthday, and I will be traveling to my hometown to hang out with a couple of old friends and spend the day cooking Cochinita Pibil and then watching Once Upon A Time In Mexico via digital projector in their backyard beneath the unspoiled starry skies of "the sticks." Tomorrow, before I set out to make my five hour drive across the barrens of Texas, I will finally get to fulfill a juvenile fantasy and see Transformers. It's showing at the Alamo, which means damn fine fried shit and Fireman's 4, my official vote for the best goddamn beer of all time. I've reached a point in life where I no longer have any desire to sit through a movie without quality food and an endless supply of booze before me. Oh, how Austin has spoiled me so.

I will be viewing this phenomenon of fancy robot cars with a friend of mine, K, I have only recently been reacquainted with. We had grown up a single block away from one another, and knew each other from the time we were seven until we were seventeen. Her mom used to baby-sit me, and she even remembers watching Thundercats together with her older brother Jon when we were kids. I spent most of 1995 following her around like a pathetic little puppy dog. As soon as I graduated (actually like a week before the ceremony), I moved all my shit out of town and, except for a brief hello at her graduation the following year, I did not see the girl again until another friend of mine, Court, invited her to a barbeque at my house about two months ago. Several other ghosts of my past showed up, and it was, minus maybe five people, the core group that comprised every party we had in '95. It was more uncomfortable than it was refreshing, though, after many a burned bridge and occasional love triangle. I did my best to avoid K most of the evening, as I really had no idea what to say to her.

Fast-forward a month, and Court is supposed to go on a married-girl's-getaway-weekend to the coast with K and a few other friends. Court calls me, insistent that I join them, because everyone else had backed out and she knew that I had had a really shitty couple of weeks and could use a break. I'm pretty fucking reluctant to accept, considering it would just be her, K, and myself on a four hour drive to K's in-law's place on the beach for a three day weekend. I had no concern about hanging out with Court, as she is married to one of my best friends, and she has been like a kid sister to me for much of my life. (Her dad was one of those older guys that used to drink with the high school kids, so I spent a few formative years drinking with him and looking out for her. could have killed my buddy when he knocked her up, but he's actually done a good job of getting his shit together and being a decent husband and father.) K, on the other hand, had me more than a bit disconcerted.

Court finally talked me into it by calling and consistently pestering me the way only a kid sister can, and the first thing said to me, as I threw my bag in K's over-sized SUV, was that I had to "tuck my sack back" before I got into the truck. In other words, it was still a girl's weekend, so I'd do best to simply pretend I had a vagina. I was raised by a single mother, and, up until these last few years, I would always hang out with really-good-friend-girls in pairs, so I've never really been much of a misogynist. (A drinking partner of mine even refers to me, on occasion, as every girl's favorite lesbian friend, because it's usually understood that, regardless of potential attraction and excessive drinking, I'm not going to try and fuck her.) I still had no idea how to get past the general air of discomfort between K and I, and it was only about twenty minutes into the drive before I stuck my foot in my mouth.

K had mentioned how nervous she had been coming to the barbeque and, half-jokingly said something about my not wanting to go on this trip because I probably hate her.

I said "I don't dislike you", and I was going to add that we simply had not been around each other for more than a decade, and I wasn't sure how to act, but, before I could get that out, they both seemed to misinterpret my comment and jumped at the opportunity to bust my balls. "So, what? You don't dislike me; you just don't want to be around me? Fucker!" It turned out to be a hell of an ice breaker, though, and was an ongoing joke the entire weekend.

We spent the entire time drinking and bay-fishing with the occasional break to eat something fried or sugary or both. It was a great time, and K is actually more of a man than damn near any of my friends. She drinks cheap beer. She hunts, fishes, and has absolutely no problem baiting her own hook or cleaning her own catch. The way she puts it, she can "strap one on and swing a big dick with the rest of the boys."

Upon return, I find that J, who was supposed to be taking care of my dog while I was away, had had people over to my house, raided my fridge, drank all of my beer, and did a half-assed job covering his tracks. He then tried to bullshit me about it, so K may well be replacing him as my favorite fall back drinking buddy. She claims to have excellent skill as a "wingman," as well, and I will be putting that to the test, because I am head over heels for another girl with whom I am going to need all the help I can get.



So. Pointless story. Welcome me back. Wish me happy birthday. Try the Pibil.