Friday, June 29, 2001




Doctor: I'm afraid we're going to have to amputate.

Me: my head ????

Doctor: I'm afraid so it's been damaged beyond repair, I mean really - didn't you see it coming ?

Me: Well, uh, I mean - ouch- your trying to make me use my head - it hurts, OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD - it hurts

Doctor: Now just hold still for a second and we'll relieve you of the pain.

(INSERT HERE: sound of chain-saw revving up)

(INSERT HERE: sound of "thump" as head falls to floor)

Me: Oooooooh, that does feel better!

I am hung over, I am 'John Holmes, Dirk Diggler, Jeff Stryker-Hung-over'....I hate this pathetic feeling. I wake on my living room floor at 5am curled up next to the phone and a box of Apple Jacks (some men need to fear there boyfriend cheating on them when their drunk - mine has to fear me devouring an entire box of sugar-coated cereal - dry). One of the few comments I remember - when introduced to a guy who was a little to impressed with what he made, what he wore, what he drove and what he looked like in the mirror over my shoulder I just said "oh hi - I don't like you one bit". One of the other remembered comments - when my absolutely adorable/lovable/deliciously beautiful friends Leslie & Mark introduced me to another straight couple they were friends with at 'Jazz in the Park" - I corrected them and said that I was actually their "token-drunk-gay-friend". I am normally kinda cute and endearing when I drink - last night - I was not. I know better than this - the Irish are not to be allowed around booze when grumpy. I had to go by the old office (you know the Advertising Agency that manages to make it to 'Creativity' magazines "Cool companies to watch" and still loses millions in the same year) and clean out my office while HR stood guard. I mean really - am I gonna make a run for it with a stack of Post-It notes ?? I was incredibly tempted to walk into the office unshaved, unbathed, wearing a ratty bath robe (no - I don't own one - I love being nude at home) and have them just shake their heads and mumble "Poor dear - we've broken him". It was the first time I ever had an office in my career, and shit was it a cool one - huge windows - looking out to Lake Michigan and totally freaked out with my toys (Curious George lunch pail, Rocky & Bullwinkle figures, South Park wind-up figures, Dilbert doll) and the walls covered with the most clever ad's I could find inspiration in. I wanted to punch someone - I wanted to strike down the defenseless and stupid HR gal - a stoner, hippie of 55 who just kept telling how terrible she felt - how quiet the office was without me - partners stopped by to shake my hand and profess what a delight it was to be in my presence - how quickly someone like me would find a job - my boss left me a card that reads like a love note and was written in the form of a poem - puleeeeeeezzzzze.

'Lucky' gets in tonight - I need this - I need him. His presence is like a cool bath on a hot day. I plan to let him do things to me and do things to him that are unforgivable in the name of Christians. has amazing healing powers - and no hang over.