updated 07/19/01

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Yeah, I know.. a rip off from Craiggers - but his show is pretty much sucking right now (should have stayed with The Daily Show), so I don't feel nearly as bad as I would normally for stealing his stuff.  I think I could do a better job with it anyway. 

So here it is, my words of wisdom to take you through your day (or couple of days as you will cut me some slack on how often I update this).  You can even ask a specific question to me (via email - not icq) if you want some specific "wisdom" from me. 
Here is some non specific wisdom: 

So I am really sorry I haven't been updating. I have been going out of town, having a blast, sometimes bringing a camera, and shirking all major responsibilities. Yep, I know you are proud. One of the first excursions I took when I last left writing for this column was to Knoxville to visit one of my con pals, Farshad. He was having a last blow out at his house before he took off to Chicago. The last time I was in Knoxville - I was eight and going to the World's Fair and all I remember is that they were able to build a computer that fit in a room and that gyro sandwiches were pretty good. So I thought this a fine time to update what I missed out on since then.

Charles and Farshad

I was really happy that it didn't take as long to get to Knoxville as it does Atlanta. And I was also pretty pleased that they had a TON of eighties stations (yeah I know, showing my age), so I was be-bopping almost the whole way from Chattanooga to Farshad's house. However, as I suck at any kind of directions and his house had no numbers on it - I was forced to remember that Charles had a "SPOOOON" license plate - so I took my chances and knocked on the door. They weren't there yet, but I figured I had the right house as I saw the disco lights going and techno music blaring out the back. Farshad always threw the loudest parties at the cons.

The fridge of evil.

I received a fabo gift from Farshad (one I am not naming but will picture below) and we promptly drank from his well stocked fridge and the dubious red punch that he always makes (but never tells what's in it).

it comes with a remote - and that's all I am saying.

He called his friends a "fraternity" and the name of it was called "The Burritos" and I soon found out why they were frat boys. They never grew up out of their frat house and they never stopped playing those games. In real life, this is not who I would hang out with as it would be unhealthy for me to be around Never Never Land all the time, but in the instance of this party - I had a fine time meeting the guys, their gals and generally feeling like I was 18 again. We played Presidents and Assholes, danced to booty music and other stuff I would never be caught dead doing in Huntsville - but had a ton of fun.

My first impression (and lasting one for the most part) - was that these guys were pretty arrogant and apparently had lived their all their lives - never venturing out (besides their trip to Fantasm - where they knew me already) and their women (though really sweet to a girl who speaks her mind a little to bluntly for her own good) were a little lacking in the self esteem department. Apparently, it's ok if the guys are allowed to go cheat on their girls - while their girls resembled that of Miss Molly Homemaker circa 1952 - oblivious to everything. However, they were cool girls and they made me feel at home there.

(Disclaimer: there was one cool chick who had broken her nose the nite before and was laughing about it - I think she wins in the self esteem department there - but her man also doesn't cheat on her.)

I had a couple of the guys hit on me, but after it was proven that I wasn't a "speak when spoken to" kind of gal, they gave up and accepted me as one of the guys. Silly boys.

Later on, another girl from the cons, Beauty, and I were hungry - and so some of the guys took us to waffle house where I was made fun of for wearing my cloud pajamas by a couple of punks in the next booth. I took a pic of them and chatted with them for a bit. They even made me write down their names to put on the pic - but I have since forgotten them. When we got back - the party had pretty much dissolved - so we all passed out.

I was only gonna stay the nite and then go home on Saturday - but Farshad and his power of persuasion, and Charles with his conversational skills (along with my hangover) made me rethink my decision and so I stayed. Farshad had said there was another party we would be attending that nite - and luckily I brought along some extra clothes (for cases like this).

Nothing would have prepared me for this party. I don't even think if I had it all to do over again - I would be able to fathom it. As I write it now, it seems very dream like and far away - as if my mind was trying to block it out. First of all, it was at a really rich person's house - and it showed. The house was gorgeous and I almost felt like I was at one of my parents' friends' house. It even had a small lagoon at the front of the house.

Then I see who is around me. Now realize, I don't know anyone here but Farshad, the people from the nite before, and Charles. Also, realize that we showed up in jeans and T-shirts for the most part, so I was afraid I didn't dress for this occasion. I was so wrong in that department. All the guys in their silly corporate clone outfits had brought their dates who were clad in jeans and tank tops. I didn't get it. If I were going to a party and I was dressed to the nines and my date showed up as if he just got off work from the local pub - I would be pissed. I would be waiting around for my date to differentiate casual from working-in-the-yard clothes before we left. None of the these couples matched up.

Although I was glad that I didn't feel out of place with my outfit - this brings me to my next point about the party. All the girls (that I didn't know or were introduced to) gave me the "new girl in high school" once over and then trounced off to another part of the house. They acted as if this was still high school and just because I don't hang my head waiting for them to approve of me - I was obviously not "one of their kind." Gawd. Grow up (a little). High school was 5 years ago. Now we judge people a little differently than whether these are Guess jeans I am wearing and/or my daddy drives a better car than yours. That's ok, as we all know that if you follow Dawn Marie's Traveling Handbook - if you don't live there - it doesn't matter if you live like the city is your toilet - you are going home tomorrow. I laughed it off, made a drink and then saw the other weird thing about the party.

Amid the nauseating sea of khaki pants, and blue button downs - the apparent uniform of the guys at the party, I listened in to these conversations the suits were having. They talked of the stock market and property values. They were only 22 so I was older than everyone there - but I didn't feel like I was old enough to be there. I actually felt like I used to when my parents would throw a cocktail party when I was 12, and I would be sneaking in to get a snack from the fridge - confused by all the fifty cent words (though these guys weren't using them correctly - so their conversations resembled that of "trying to be grown-up"). Wait, scratch that. I don't even think my parents were old enough to be at this party. I looked to Charles for support so that we could talk about REAL things and get plowed and pretend that these people never existed - and therefore wouldnt' procreate.

Me and Charles pose for one of my drunken "self pics"

He, too, needed a lifejacket. We looked around for Farshad to save us from this horror. Much to our growing fear - Farshad had abandoned us for some chick and thought that we wouldnt' miss him while he was gone. When he came back - we clung to him like a bad rash until he hauled us out of there and onto the bar scene of Knoxville.

We had a great time at Chili Peppers. I saw that there was actual good things to do in Knoxville and that the party we had just fled from was really the minority. Farshad and Charles were tired (and had a big drive ahead of them) - so they left me in the hands of "The Burritos." We went to a place called the Boiler Room where we waited in line for twenty minutes while the guys I was with recounted their latest lapses in monogamy. You know I was impressed (end sarcasm). After the two bouncers searched my purse - we went into a hell hole that was trying to pass as a rave. As I never seem to leave the "all weird people are drawn to me" aspect of my life behind (especially when I am in a new town) - some forty year old (it was his birthday) - offered me beer and weed and after that little interaction - I convinced the guys that this was somewhat scary of a place to me and they dropped me off at Farshad's house.

The only "normal" people at the party

I had a good time. But I am kinda happy that Farshad moved out of that town and moved somewhere else. I am also glad that the people I met on that Saturday nite are content never to leave their town and so I will never have to encounter that scene again. Besides, I would have to study up on the latest Britney Spears fashions and peruse a dictionary bigger than my coffee table to feel at home there. It's like fish in a barrel when I interact with some of them - and I need more of a challenge when I spew people with my sarcastic venom.

BTW -I have more pics over here

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