Everything and the Kitchen Sink!

It's been a ridiculous month. Even moreso than the usual ridiculous. Living with my boys is kinda the best ever, when I am actually living here. They don't even make me sleep on the couch! I have a for-real bed, well, mattress. Under the stairs. Between the basement and the bookcase. It's a Molli Potter sort of affair. But still! Not a couch. So when I am actually here I work a handful of days landscaping or an hour or two massaging. The rest of the time I am split between riveting social engagements and domestic goddessary. Laugh if you must. But it is very true. Between bouts of drinking I keep a clean house, cook fabulous dinners, and occasionally sew and cut hair. When it gets winter I'm so going to take up knitting, you just watch me!
So maybe that all sounds so boring, and you're so bored, and you're thinking, I'm going to give up on reading this blog forever!
I don't think you should do that. You haven't even heard about the orgasmic Muse concert I went to, or the Tuesday afternoon S&M session I had in New York. Or the Dyke bar in Boston.
I told you, between riveting social engagements. Duh. Pay attention.

So. Since I last talked to you, I moved in with some boys. Robbie and Stephen J., Drunk at our local bar

We get drunk a lot and throw fancy dinner parties when they are not working 10 hours a day, 7 days a week.
What is it like to be a kept woman, you ask me? Freakin' awesome. If I can rock this indefinitely, I totally win.

When Robbie and Steve are working forever and I get really bored, I play with Sam and Emily and Simone and Lucky Penny, Blondie, Justin and Abby, Lauren Rose, Chris Butler, Peppers, Kriebel, Midget, and Heather and her family. That is a nice mix of couples, siblings, single girls, working girls, homos, and children. Occasionally I even see my own family. I like to have a lot of options.
Like a China Buffet of friends. Sometimes Joey Haughton comes up, and things get really spicy.
Even with all that going on though, sometimes you just need some fresh blood. So when Peppers called me up and said "Come to New York this weekend," I said, "No." Because I hate New York. It is my nemesis city that is trying to kill me.
But then she said, "I have a ticket to see Muse at MSG....!" in her "I'm taunting you into the best worstideaever ever," voice. So then I said, "I'll see you tomorrow!" took the train up, had the "best burger in New York" at some Irish Pub (it really was freakin' delicious. Quite possibly they were not even lying) got drunk on her rooftop and yeah.

Peppers drunk on her rooftop

The show... I dunno how to even tell you about the show. It was even better than I had dreamed it the 2 nights prior. How do three people make so much noise? How does MSG get such pure resonance? How can I not have fallen in love with the 65 year old man in front of me, rocking out all by himself to 'Apocalypse Please'? How does Peppers stay so beautiful with her eyes all squinched up and her mouth all shouty and the sweat from all day dampening her curls? How does the cheesiness of people replacing lighters with a thousand illuminated cellphones make you feel like you are in the swirling bottom of a jar full of fireflies. I have been to hundreds of shows. I have heard crowds far larger than the one at MSG, but I have never felt the volume of sound physically topple onto me like a drunken wave when a crowd chants for an encore. Holy sweet Jesus. The perfect concert-going experience. The kind of show that lifts you right out of your body and into a pure stream of sound for 2 hours. A natural high better than any drink or drug I've ever tried, better than most sex I've ever had.
And people wonder why I obsess over musicians.

Peppers and me, in love with Musicians

We came out of MSG into a New York night that was as wet and smelly and hot as a garlic-spaghetti kiss, and I didn't eve care because for the first time in my whole life, New York had done right by me. We went home and I went to bed as soon as I could, to make the feeling last.
The next day, my new NY buddy Kit came over,

Kit, gazing optimistically into the future

I made awesome fajitas, and we all watched a movie and played around with leather belts. An unexpected and throughly amusing end to a fabulous visit. Molli Rocket 10000, NY, nothin'.

I had a wonderful time and a welt across my ass for a week to remember it by. Life is good.

After that, a week of house-sitting for the Cunningham's back in the Philly area. Pool, hot tub, big kitchen, central air and digital cable. Need I say more? I pretended to be a silly fancy lady all week. We through a dinner party pretty much every night and Heather brought the kids over

Nolan and Veronica. Yes, Veronica is in a kangaroo suit

to play in the pool and all in all, it was a totally fun, totally wholesome week. See? I keep balance by alternating between 2 extremes. It's the see-saw approach to Zen.

I left the Cunningham's to head up to Boston for a week with Andrea. That also was a whirlwind of activity. She picked me up in Providence on Saturday, and on Sunday we made the drive up to Burlington for this kid Nick's birthday. Burlington is a weird place. It is a lot like San Fransisco, excepting that it is in Vermont. So you feel weird. Still, that started out alright, we were in this fly Irish pub... lately, I've been spending a lot of time in Irish pubs... anyways, things were going pretty alright until people started showing up for the birthday party. When I overheard a dude say (in reference to me and my girl) "I don't really care which one of them I end up with, I mean, they're both pretty cute. I just wanna get laid..." yeah, I was pretty much off that crowd. I mean, none of those dudes were even cute. I was like, in a party of about 12 dudes, and I didn't make out with anybody. Now that's saying something.
So Vermont was kinda icky, and I am re-thinking going up there to investigate the Vermont secession from the Union, cause, I don't really want to be surrounded by a bunch of pseudo-San Fransisco jerkoffs.

From there, Andrea dropped me off in Greenfield, which is a crazy little town in western Mass. I liked the giant sign outside the local bar that said, "Smoke Free. By FORCE!" It made me smile real big. So I went from there to an even smaller and more remote town to see miss Melody and her little ones. That was kinda awesome, and a lot like being at summer camp. I jumped on a giant trampolene and shot a bow and arrow and ate hippy food, and man, it was awesome. I wished I coulda stayed longer, but their house is under construction and I had to get back to Bean Town to get some work done. Andrea and I are working on a very exciting project. You don't know what it is, but you are excited anyways, I promise.
So we did our work and I met some cool horses and dogs, and a cat. And I went horseback riding! You're having a hard time picturing it, aren't you? Well, my tongue is sticking out in your direction because Andrea says I'm kinda a natural with horses, so there! I can be rustic. I'm not silly and fancy all the time.
So then we went down to Jamaica Plain for some awesome dinner at my Aunt and Uncles' and then we were off to meet Holly and Nebraska for some Karaoke. Except we got lost. When we finally got found, we were walking to the bar and Andrea says, "Are there a lot of girl couples out here?" And there were. So then we walked in the bar, and it was nothing but girl couples. Turns out Karaoke is actually, in this case, Queeroke (which i don't think really works as a clever play on words. Try and say it. It's pretty awful. But alls I could come up with to replace it was kargayoke, and that's even worse).
Well Andrea was kinda thrilled to be in this gay bar and she wanted to play around and pretend that we were a couple, which I would have been down for except that it totally interfered with my goal to get pretty girls to buy me drinks. Andrea is a pretty girl, but the bar only took cash and she had none. I had to buy my own beer.
Can you even believe that?
In a lesbian bar.
Nothing like a good friend to fuck up your free drink groove. So yeah. I don't have any scandalous stories either. If you are upset about this, take it up with Andrea. It is entirely her fault.

I have no pictures of that entire trip, because I forgot to put a memory card in my camera. You'll have to use your imagination, oh dear!

So then we drove back to Philly. My girl drives like a maniac and I was afraid for my life the whole time, but we made it without arrest or collision, so, I suppose all is well. I spent the weekend getting drunk with Stephen J., and teased and abused by both boys cause "We're in that stage of missing you where it is necessary to be mean." On Saturday night we went to see Blondie in a Barry Kriebel production of "Dog Sees God." The script was horrible but the acting was amazing, and I have to grudgingly say it is the best BK production I have seen since "The Crucible."
After the play we found ourselves at yet another Irish pub, getting drunk, and yeah, I've pretty much been drunk since Saturday, with Monday being the day of most ridiculousness, due to the appearances of, in this order, Joey Haughton, Chris Butler, and Peppers throughout the day. Meem showing up for dinner was the icing on the cake. I almost died when she built a pyramid out of Robbie's French fries, and then put them all back on his plate. This is the lady that gave birth to me. And you wonder how I turned out this way.
When Peppers and I finally went to bed at 5 am, I felt happier than I've been in a really long time, which is saying a lot since I've been pretty consistently happy lately.
If you're still with me at this point in the post, bless you but you need to get out more.
And if you are wondering about the book, it's supposed to be going to print this week. But I still haven't been given a release date or pre-order information. I'm about to write them an email right now, just as soon as I make me another martini.
I hope that keeps you satisfied for now, because, it is becoming more and more obvious I suck at posting. I still love you though. If you came over, I'd have Robbie make you pancakes.

The Kitchen Sink