black-bunny

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My Lovely Weekend

Hi-de-ho!

Well.

Indeed.

Yes, uhm, last weekend was very nice. Back �home� with the ever lovely family of Luceiia and company. She seems to be coping rather well since her father�s passing. It may have come with great relief, but still, they were very close. The �firsts� are always difficult. The first xmas, the first birthday, the first anniversary, the first Easter� and so on.

It was a splendid weekend no less. Rainy and grey, for the most part. Wonderful soft storms at night. That�s the thing about being on �the Hill�, the storms are so beautiful they could move you to tears.

The Friday night, we (Madman, Luceiia and myself) sat on the front porch and drank ourselves stupid. Much wine, much beer, much loud conversation.

Oh yes, �conversation�. More like high-speed babbling about any dirty thing our little heads could remember. It seems as though many of my visits are confessional, in a manner of speaking.

The first thing we seem to do is get roaringly drunk and spill out whatever odd occurrence, any bad thought, and all manner of vices we have willfully indulged in.

It was great.

Madman leaned over and one point and said, out of the blue, I think, that he indeed, loves to eat pussy.

He said it like he�d been holding back that tidbit of information for years.

Not that we all didn�t know that already.

His wife, Luceiia, knows this best, I�m sure.

The night came to an abrupt end when Madman and I realized that his wife had left to use the washroom and hadn�t come back. Off we were to search. We found her in the washroom, laid out on the floor. She had been sick and decided the best place to recover would be the washroom floor. Only logical. So I joined her on the floor, and within a matter of minutes, I was feeling the effects of all the wine we consumed.

So, at the unspeakable hour of 11:15 p.m., on a Friday night, we were all tucked in for the night, Madman in bed, Luceiia in the bathroom, and me on the kitchen floor, just in case.

Then at 2 a.m. I realized I was in the middle of the first anxiety attack I�ve had in months.

Retched things.

Of course I knew immediately what brought it on. Let�s see, I had 2 cups of coffee at work (I thought I would spoil myself a little), then an iced cappuccino on the way to their house, then 2 cups of restaurant coffee at Lavoie�s� then I drank a bottle and a half of wine.

Too much caffeine + tons of wine = anxiety attack.

Way back when I didn�t know what was going on, I would go through these spells and think I had done something wrong, or that something was terribly wrong. So I�d spend the duration of my �attack� obsessing. So that night the first thing that popped into my mind was the conversations we had on the porch. But it didn�t take me long to figure out what was going on, told myself to shut up and that I would just have to bear it.

Then came the truly frustrating part. Just getting through it.

It�s difficult because you WANT to do SOMETHING, ANYTHING to make it go away. The thing is, I get them in the middle of the night, so I�m too exhausted to do anything except lay there and freak out.

And breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

Somewhere about 4 a.m. it ended, suddenly, and I passed the fuck out.

The next morning we all woke up and migrated to the kitchen, maybe feeling a little sheepish, but no harm done. I expected all of us to be wreaked, but no, a little headachy perhaps, but that was all. We definitely had a good laugh at what transpired the night before, from what any of us could remember. Big grey haze for y.t.

I got to hang out with Marky-poo, had tea and thanked him for being a good friend these last two years. He writes to me and I never write back. He sends me little care packages, and I never write back. It�s terrible. But I did tell him that I noticed everything he�d done and that I appreciate everything. Typical of Mark, he said it was all good.

I also got to hang out with Lady of Shallot, Luceiia�s eldest child. What a sprite. She�s growing up so fast, I have to catch my breath sometimes.

That night was a quiet one, we went to hang out on the porch again but it began to POUR SIDEWAYS, so we retired to the living room and watched some idle tv.

The next morning, I snagged Small Soldier for breakfast. Back to Lavoie�s for an insanely large breakfast (for merely $3.95). I had to catch her quick that morning, I rarely spend time with her alone. I don�t want her to think I prefer the Lady�s company to hers. It just takes a special effort to nail Soldier�s attention and involve her in a conversation.

We all hung out in the garden later that day, Soldier and I practiced our knitting and the Lady and I nibbled on the wild blackberries growing on their fence. Luceiia�s mum came by and hung out as well, we chatted about this and that, and I remarked that we don�t use certain phrases and words, like �courting�. Nobody uses that anymore. Well I do, but nobody else does.

Because I don�t date. I get courted.

Any man who was significant in my life courted me. And I don�t mean midnight serenades, or bestowing trinkets, I mean these men lavished me with attention.

And I mean lavished.

Pretty words, long kisses, kind attention, made me feel like I was the only thing in the world that mean anything to them.

But I digress.

That afternoon, Luceiia and I drove back to my place, we hung out, made dinner and we went out dancing. It was a good night, despite the fact that NOBODY was at the club. It was a shame because I wanted Luceiia to meet the folks who I socialize with and none of them were there. Kind of disappointing. Oh well, maybe next time.

In all, it was a great weekend. No complaints. Just relaxing and good.

All things should be so simple and sweet.

10:51 a.m. - 2004-08-06

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next