I guess on days like this, you know who your friends are...

This week has sucked, for many reasons.

It wasn't just the boy who never called me back and ripped me to shred when all I wanted was a little bite mark. And although yesterday's Benadryl-induced daze didn't help at all, that wasn't it either. Hell, I don't even know if news of Angela's passing alone could have done these past seven days in for me on its own.

But the truth is, my life was a LOT better at this time last week. In some ways, anyway.

But it's odd. I lost two people from my life in the past seven days, one of whom I loved dearly and will never stop missing, and one that I'll just always wonder about. But both of them are gone from my world forever.

It's amazing sometimes how one gains so much from loss.

Ernie never did end up calling me on Tuesday night like he said he would. He never returned my call from when I called his work on Wednesday. He didn't call Thursday. He didn't call Friday. I called Saturday and he didn't then. He responded to my message on Tuesday only to tell me I was a fool for taking the piece of bait he'd put out for me, and why he did that even then I don't know. How do you drag someone blindfolded along rocks and let them see the light of day just before the end? Why even let them know they're in a bad position?

Let's rewind to Friday. I was sick anyway, so maybe it's for the best he never called me, but I was set to go out to Faces with two more losers from the Internet (well, I knew one in real life, but I digress). The point is is that I was falling back into the same cycle.

I messaged my friend Korrin almost out of desperation, really. I was sure she'd been in situations such as this before--I knew almost all of them like the back of my hand--and I was sure she'd understand.

Little did I know she was going through exactly the same thing.

So we both said the same collective "fuck off" to the skin and adipose that rested where our six packs never did and never would and went to Steak 'n' Shake, pigged out, watched closer, blew our noses together--did I mention that she happened to be sick with the SAME thing I was?--and farted and burped and just had a great old time.

And then I came back Saturday at eight and we did it all over again. Well, not everything. We went out early and went to Target, washed her car, went back to Target to get bandages when I punctured myself removing the staple from the floormat she'd bought there, went to Qdoba and had yummy, gassy Mexican food, and just had another great day. Neither of our guys called us back, but we had each other like we always had, and life was good.

And of course we repeated Sunday. I won't go into gory details, but rest assured that plenty of inside jokes and farting ensued, epsecially since the wonderful Shane was involved.

And then Monday came and I went on the date with little Mr. Lacoste and his friend Little Mr. I Look Like I am 30 because I tan obsessively and oh--remember the time we were both sixteen and I fucked up your life by stealing the person you lied yourself into loving and maybe you should give me a Hamburger because I'm anorexic and that freak's ugly ass boyfriend. Well, I didn't date all of them, but we all ended up hanging out and subsequently seeing Star Wars and that was fun, and I was again fooled into thinking I could just pluck even lust out of thin air and was informed upon my arrival at home that it just wasn't happening, though I got lots of hot kissing.

Then yesterday came, sucked, and left, although I notably DID hang out with Korrin and Shane again and had lunch with my sister, although we were both in the aforementioned Benadryl daze, and let's face it, WHO can enjoy life in the wake of such an antihistamine?

Today I had a guest during the day but tonight, oh my God. I was physically reunited with Pam, who's probably among the best people I've ever met in my life, and it was just wonderful. We sat at Denny's for three hours together and ate bad food and deprecated ourselves only because we were sure the other would compliment us, reading poetry and telling stories and reminiscing of the good, bad, and Angela, and decided if we were both doomed to be lonely forever and what she should wear for her date, and how ironic it is that she'll be in Florida when I'm in Europe since she might as well be on Saturn when I'm in Florida, and I don't know. Pam was there. I was there.

And although the past week has thrown plenty of smelly shit in my face, I've had many people by my side, ready with clean black handkerchiefs (because EVERYONE knows I look shitty in white). And I think I'm gonna go wash my face now, on that note.

R