Weekend recap, degenerating into a pity party.

You know how you meet someone, be it male, female, feline, wax, whatever, and you have an instant connection? (I'm sorry if this comes out a little discombobulated - Madeleine is telling me the trevails of her friends Frankie and Dylan. Dylan is a brown bunny, not to be confused with a rabbit, which stands on four feet instead of two, and Madeleine's best friend, while Frankie is Dylan's human brother. They're always fighting and right now they're pouring cereal on each other and spitting - I think?) Okay, so whuuuuuuhhhhht - oh! Instant connections. So mine is Emily. She's the spouse of one of Jim's employees (also a very nice human and smart and funny). She has a two-month-old ball of fury/baby and she and I have only really seen each other twice at work-type functions, but easily and readily hit it off both times. Once even without alcohol! She was in town this weekend for Fathers' Day and called to see if I wanted to go out for dinner and drinks with her and her sister. Yes....

At my suggestions, we were going to browse the Taste of Missoula (you know what this is right - I think every town has one), but as is my M.O., I screwed up the time/place/planning step and all the bbq and gigantic vegan burrito stands were all gone by the time we got there. So we strolled up the street to The Old Post, my favorite restaurant-slash-bar. No Smoking! I love this Draconian rule, that which bans smoking in public places. Keeps out the riff-raff, like me at the age of 23, and I smell like fresh deep-fat-fried things when I leave, instead of that lady from Night Court that was friends with Bull. (I used to have a little crush on John Larroquette - I think it was his voice and the fact that he was a perfect foil for that dweeby judge who did bad magic tricks.) Plus they have an old, pretty bar, awesome food and beer.

So we get there early, like moms who have left their babies at home always do, and we get a booth. Emily and I on one side, her sister Mary on the other. (Mary is beautiful like Zooey Deschanel and smart and clever. I had a little crush on her, which, take note, is kind of foreshadowing...) Soon the waitress comes, bearing two cups of water. She was walking toward us, down the aisle, facing Emily and me. She put the water on the table, glanced at Mary, and said, "Oh! There are three of you - I'll go get another water."

Do you see what happened there? She was walking toward Emily and me, sitting in the booth together, thinking we were alone. On a date? Why else would two people sit together on one side of a booth? So, Emily being cute and flowery and fresh-faced clearly wasn't the issue. It was me. I was the dyke. I laughed. Hahahaha! We all laughed! Isn't that hilarious how she thought we were on a date?! Hahahahaha! Then Mary told a story about how Shane in 4th grade had a crush on her and called her Mary-With-Two-Arms because there was another Mary in her class with only 1.5 arms, and all the girls-on-a-date stuff was forgotten. Until later, we were having a drink at Sean Kelleys and the subject of lesbian stereotypes came up. Apparently Mary thinks the requisite car is an Outback. My car. Hahahaha AGAIN! Because look at me in my lesbian car! But now, I mean right now, as I write this, I'm not laughing anymore because I'm not with those two cute fun people. I'm just here all by myself with my un-feminine-y-ness-ist-ication-ful. And I'm not feeling particularly pretty. Or pretty at all. Just, well, insert your favorite negative descriptive word here, and that's how I feel. (And by the way, aren't periods fun?)

So? Can I come up with any more ways to get down on me today? Well, hopefully I'll get to put on a bathing suit later - maybe that will amp up the self-flagellation. I can only hope.

Changing the subject (I know, you're welcome)....

Scratching an Itch in the Cup: