Current mood:
depressed
Well, last night was full of suck.
So, I go home, take a quick shower to get the Cummins stink offa me, and leave to go up to Trent's house. So, I'm driving, right, and this cop swings out behind me. Well, I think, Shit. So I didn't even wait for the flashing lights, I just went ahead and pulled into the gas station. Yeah, there are the flashers. So, he comes up to my door and I open it, and briefly explain that while I can get my window down, it generally is disagreeable about going back up again. Anyway, he asks for my registration first, which is fine, so I start digging for it. Well, fuck if I can't find it in all the crap in my glove box. So he asks if the tags go to this car, and I say yes. So he asks for my license. "You're not going to like this..." I say. So I tell him whats up, you know, me not having a license and all, and he says ok, he'll go write me up and thats that. I had the weepy look by now, I'm sure. I said "Please don't take me to jail...." He assured me that he wouldn't unless he had to.
Well, guess what? He comes back several minutes later and tells me that he has to cuff me and take me in. I'm now in full bawl. Well, I can't say that, becuase I was trying my damndest to not be crying at all. Im not a crier. But apparently there was alot of crap all built up in me that needed cried about becuase I COULD NOT shut up! Anyway, they towed and impounded my car and booked me.
While I was standing in there, being a blubbering pitiful wreck, there was another inmate in one of the cells looking at me. He was about my height, had shoulder length hair, about, and a VERY black eye. He was just kinda staring at me all sad like. He raised his hand and gave a little wave. I waved back, sorta. And then, in the way of "lock-up" sign language either asked if they gave me a black eye (my make-up, I'm sure looked like 2 black eyes by this time...) or informed me that that's how he got his. Anyway, he seemed a nice enough sort. I kinda got Charles Manson vibes from him, just the way he stared and acted, but from what I can gather, with the exception of convincing them folks to kill all them other folks, Charls Manson was a pretty allright guy. Kindof a hippie. Really dug some groovy tunes and what not.
ANYWAY.... Fortunately it was a book and release, which apparently ain't shit, but I wasn't to find this out till later. So, basically, I have no ride anywhere. Which is the suck. This seriously hinders my ability to go out to the bar and stare at the hot bartender. This hinders my ability to do much of anything. And walking home after work in the middle of winter? Yeah, not really looking foreward to that. But, it could be worse. A dog could bite me on top of all that. Hm.
So, they release me, and I walk out onto the steps, crying and decide to scream at the top of my lungs. It made me feel a little better. I ended up walking to Rick's house. I called him and woke him up, which I felt like shit for, and -sobbing- asked him if I could stop in and gave him a brief run-down of what was going on. He said I could. And so I did. And there was troubled sleep.
He went ahead and went to work this morning and let me sleep, which is sort of a blessing and not to me, I suppose. I really love it because I'm a complete GIRL when no ones around to catch me being one. By this I mean that I'll wake up and just BURY my face in the pillows and breathe in the "Rick" smell. (If anyone out there is even going to attempt to claim that they have not ever done this, you are lying.) I'll lie there and be all groggy and just look around the room at all the "Rick" stuff. Yeah. Totally a chick sometimes.
On the flip side, though, I feel totally weird being in someone's room/ house/ place of employment without them being there. I did kinda feel better about it when I heard Ginger moving around out there, but still....
So, I eventually get up, and because I'm still in quite the sour mood, I decided that I was not going to walk all the way home. Ginger and Priscilla both offered me a ride, but I declined. I regretted that about 4 blocks away, when Rob text me.
I went ahead and asked him if he'd pick me up, and he did. I also asked him to keep the harassment to a minimum, which he also did. (Thanks for that, by the way...) He drove me home and hung out for a little bit while I got something to eat, lest I perish. He left a bit later and said he'd come back by to take me to work. So, I got to work today.
Tonight is the Guitar Hero II tourney out at Ric's Sports and Spirits. I plan on attending this shindig and have a rida already arranged. This means one thing to me: I CAN GET HAMMERED!! All this time going out there, I can never really drink because I'm always driving. Well, not today, baby! I'm gonna do my damndest to get rip-roarin' drunk! I wanna barf in every toilet in there! Ok, well, maybe not. I'd rather not barf at all, but I wouldn't mind falling down a bunch and not noticing.
Ok, I think that brings us to the close of this blog. Happy day....
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