2001-06-17 :: 2:30 p.m.

Denise's party couldn't have been more uncomfortably hot than it already was. I swear to God the devil himself was there, shoveling what felt like hot coals over everyone, dragging mascara lines down girls' faces and curling the straightest of all hair.

So, I did what any normal person would do: lie down in her bed in her air conditioned room, sipping sangria.

There was a moment of horrified recognition when two of Foreign Guy's friends showed up and I debated hiding in the bathroom, crouched in the tub, all night, but as it turns out, no mention of Foreign Guy was made and after some stilted pleasantries, that was that and I was free to go. Gah.

Poughkeepsie Pete called around one in the morning and I swear to God that kid has the stupidest sense of timing. Like my ass was going to wait around for him to drive in from fucking Suffern (I know -- ironic) with his drunk buddies just so he could cop a feel, which was so not even about to happen.

Anyway. I had eaten too much cheese and rum-soaked watermelon balls to even fathom staying longer than two hours so I got my sweat-drenched self on the PATH and fell asleep to Jawbreaker, the last song ending just as I reached the Pavonia/Newport station. Rock on.

Got paid at Basic today. And I can vouch that it is in fact all about the Benjamins.

Today My Boy comes back from weddings-ville and hopefully, everyone will be gathering later to watch Sex in the City.

Laundry, done. Dishes, done. Floors, done. Check and check. And now I nap.

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