Paint the black hole blacker

Back from Mara's birthday party. Kind of went as I expected. It was held at her friend Dave's house and there was a good sized group of people in attendance. Mara had called me earlier in the day, asking if I'd mind picking up some beer and ice, in addition to Jessica, who had just run a half marathon earlier in the day on a sprained foot. I acquiesced.

I picked Jess up around six and we stopped at the liquor store. We have a good rapport-- she's really easy going with a good sense of humor -- and I was glad she was coming with me to the party. Without her there, I anticipated, correctly, I think, I'd have less fun. And, looking back, I was definitely right. We didn't spend the entire party together, but we were in each other's company enough for Mara to comment on it at least a couple of times later on in the evening. A bit of jealousy, but every time I attempted to interact with her, she was distracted by someone or something that begged her attention. Considering it was her party, I wasn't surprised or put off by that.

It was nice party. I'm glad for Mara that her family and friends, just about every one of them, showed up. I had as much of a good time as I figured I would beforehand, which is why I aligned myself with Jessica. I don't generally drink much alcohol, but tonight I had more than a few beers. All planned out. At the liquor store, Jessica and I determined we'd be the only ones drinking, so we may as well make a go of it.

I was finished my fourth beer and I still hadn't met a few of Mara's relatives. I represented myself well. I was affable, relaxed, inquisitive, funny; I don't think I made a bad impression on anyone. Yet....

Well, look, here's the deal: I'm at that point in my life when being single and untethered is most definitely not the norm. Most people at the party were there with their significant other and kids. As I say, I represented myself well, but at the end of the day, I'm the guy going home alone. I'm the guy who is untethered in every sense of the word. I lack connection to most people.

I was fine with that tonight. I drank more than a few beers, had decent conversations, and here I am. Oh, and I spent some quality time with little Sabrina. She serenaded me with a few songs on the ukelele. Sabrina is about three years old and lives down the street from me. The first time I met her, about a year ago, she fell in love with me (if you're up for a little digging, you can read about it in a post I published around that time)

Yes, I'd like to matter to someone, but, that is my reality -- I don't really matter to most people I know. I'm embracing it, looking at it as liberating, and that is that. I guess it's kind of depressing, now that I've re-read the above, but I'm not going to let it get me down.

I'm done. This post was typed hastily and under the influence of several beers. If you've found incoherent and distasteful, I'm sorry for that, but at least you'll have found consistent with my other posts. Should I have waited until my faculties had returned to publish a post? Fuck, no. Warts and all, is what I say. Can't always be pretty talk about flowers and rainbows. No, sometimes you've got to go at it more than a little inebriated.

I'm sure I've left a bunch out, in fact I know I have. I haven't mentioned Rich's odd behavior this weekend, nor have I mentioned my viewing of Food, Inc., a documentary I'm really glad I saw (thanks, Leigh, for reminding me). Hopefully, I will devote a some space to it in a subsequent [post.

I know the above business about not mattering to anyone sounds like depressed whining, and maybe it is, but I'm not really depressed about. I just see it as the truth. My reality is that I'm perpetually single, I don't have a family of my own, and most of my friends I see infrequently. Have to it embrace it until it changes, and something, my gut, tells me it will soon enough.

Ok, by. I've gone ahead and delivered a drunken, irresponsible post. I'm going to publish it and be done with it. I'm sure it's a rambling mess, stocked to the gills with grammatical and spelling errors.

So be it. I've committed fouler sins.