Last Saturday, I don't think I ever ate breakfast. Or lunch. At around 4pm, I realized that I was starving, possibly to death, and that if I didn't eat soon, someone might be murdered. You know how when you haven't eaten for awhile the thought of food is actually really unappealing, so you need to sort of ease into it with something "light"? Yeah, so I picked up a salady thing to tide me through to dinner, which wasn't really going to be dinner, but appetizers and drinks to celebrate Stella's birthday, as well as revel in the fact that I was in Chico visiting. So in retrospect maybe I should have eaten more at lunch than just the salady thing. We each had a drink (possibly maybe a larger than average drink) at home so we wouldn't have to spend so much money when we were out. And then we went to where we were going (I want to say we went to Crush? But I could be lying), and we ordered our drinks and asked for an appetizer menu and then it was 30 minutes later and we flagged down our waitress to be like, "What the fuck?" and she was all, "Oh the kitchen just closed, sorry!" SO. Instead of appetizers we ordered another drink, because in such a scenario, a mojito for dinner is the best possible answer. Then we went to La Salles, where my very good friend's husband is a bartender, and it was Stella's birthday! So he made her a birthday shot! And before he made it he asked me, "Do you wanna get her fucked up?" And I said, "Yeah." Except that she told me that no way in hell was she drinking it cuz she couldn't mix her liquors, so then I drank it, and it did it's job in the getting-me-fucked-up department, except that I still had my drink to drink. And then we ran into all these people I know that I hadn't seen in months. I mean, not people that I know well, or even whose phone numbers I have, but people I know because Chico is a small-ass town and if you live there long enough you get to knowing everyone. But I was excited! And yay! I missed Chico! Sad I don't live there! Oh wait. No I'm not. I live near my family now, and I like my job, and I'm not stranded and struggling and alone. So no, no I don't. But I was feeling very nostalgic and chatty. Then it was 1:30 and last call and we gotta go and get the fuck out but I wasn't ready to go to bed yet, and neither was Stella, so we went over to the house of a couple friends we ran into while we were out. And then we got there, and I almost came to blows with some dude over a dominoes game, and their swimming pool was warm, and there was an incredibly sweet dog even though normally I don't really care for dogs. And then I spent oh I dunno 2-3 hours discussing the hazards of coparenting with the guy of the dominoes fight earlier, and I decided that actually, he was a pretty cool guy. And there was this girl there who had been there another time we had been there and I guess she's dating one of the guys who lives there (there, there, how many times can I type there?), only the last time I saw her she was a stripper and was stripping, and if they were dating then, what the fuck? Because even if your girlfriend was a stripper, why would you want her to strip naked (and I do mean stark naked) for your friends? I mean, do you really WANT your friends to actively want to fuck your girlfriend? Especially if it's your girlfriend and not some girl that you're fucking? Anyways she's never cared for me, and I've a couple of times heard her calling me a slut or a bitch or what-have-you, but I haven't gotten in a physical fight since I was about 10 years old, and I've only heard her say things about me and not TO me, so I take the road of being overly sweet to her and making sure that all of her friends are over the moon for me, which, thank you, they are. And then it was 5:30 am and I was lying on my friend's bed watching Olympic Table Tennis, Olympic Badminton, Olympic Women's Weight Lifting, Olympic Men's Field Hockey, The History of Beer, The History of the Sneaker, about 10 minutes of Ladder 49 (which is sort of amazing in how bad it is, considering that it has a decent cast), and a whole lot of snippets of other things. And once when I got up to pee I heard stripper girl in the living room calling me a slut and it was like, whoa. First of all, even if I was doing anything in there, we're both single adults, and that's okay. But second of all, THE DOOR IS OPEN, WE'RE BOTH FULLY CLOTHED AND OBVIOUSLY WATCHING TV. But then one of her friends was like, "Oh I like her" (remember that over the moon thing? Working.). And throughout the day I kept having thoughts like maybe I shouldn't spend most of Sunday lying in bed watching an unholy amount of television. In Chico. Where I had gone to visit my friends. Or maybe I should eat something. Or sleep. Or shower. Or attempt to make contact with the outside world. I was having fun though, and having a lot of interesting conversation, and have we met? I like to talk. But at about 4:30 on Sunday afternoon, I actualized that plan where I wasn't watching TV and talking anymore, and I got myself back to Stella's house, and my car, and I showered and ate an apple and threw all my shit in my car, and I left. About halfway to Sacramento (where I was picking up Gabe), I realized that I was unholy miserable, and I caffeinated. Then caffeinated again. I picked up Gabriel, drove home, got there at 10:58, and was sound asleep by 11:02.