4:09 a.m. - Monday, Jul. 08, 2002
Ms Leslie flits around BR with a friend
Well, it was an amazing weekend, as long as you remember that in my bizarro world words don�t always mean what they say. My weekend was amazing, for instance, in that it was almost grindingly normal. I screwed around on Saturday until it was too late to clean my filthy kitchen or do my laundry, then I threw some random clothing into a bag, dumped more fish food into my poor Beta�s bowl than he could eat in a month and dashed out of the apartment. Alright; that was normal in the true sense of the word. Completely normal for me and not amazing in the least.

I braved the holiday traffic for the hundred and some-odd miles between here and Baton Rouge. Amazing. It was just me and several hundred thousand other hot, impatient drivers lined up in our lanes bumper to bumper at 75 plus miles an hour. It�s pretty surprising that I would leave the apartment at all under holiday conditions. The fact escalates to amazing when you consider that I did it without getting into combat mode. There was no sweating� other than for cooling purposes, no panicky feelings, and not even a whole lot of the unconscious truck-following that I�m becoming famous for.

I arrived at Laura�s later than planned, but there was still time to do a little shopping before dinner. It was good to see her again. Laura, who claims to have forsaken the gothic look and lifestyle for the respectability of marriage, nesting and a budding career with the establishment as a middle school teacher. All that, except that she can�t resist the temptation to wear bright arterial-blood-red lipstick that only stands out all the more against her almost-perfect-still-at-nearly-thirty fair skin and her long shining black hair. And she can still be caught wearing black capri pants a-la-middle class suburbia, except that if you look real close, you can see that they�re covered with tiny little while skulls. And she can NOT pass up any strappy bright red shoes with open backs. I�m not the only one in transition here. I should get over it. Everyone�s in transition of one kind or another. Laura�s doing her best to make the transition to middle adulthood with all the joys and responsibilities it entails.

She seemed almost proud of �her� stores as she ushered me into one store after another at her favorite shopping center. Could it have been that this was a chance for her to share a bit more of her life with me? It�s so crazy. My life is laid out in a paper-thin single layer for anyone who cares to see. You can know me almost as well as I know myself while I may never even know your name, much less anything about you. It�s like this with Laura. I have little to say that she hasn�t already read in my diary. And yet I�m still just getting to know her. I got the feeling that leading me along the beaten paths of her everyday life was one non-verbal way of bringing me closer to her life and a better understanding of who she is. Anyway, it was fun. I seldom go to stores just for fun and to look around. I feel a little uncomfortable doing it. It�s a little too stimulating maybe. I see all these things I�d love to have. I feel pressured to buy something and yet I can�t quite convince myself I should have any of it. Lately, I can buy clothing with not much problem. Good thing, since my size is still revising downwards and if I didn�t buy new clothes I�d be walking around looking like an elderly Orphan Annie in clothes that hung several sizes too big on me. I bought a mirror for the bathroom, some candles, a seen-on-TV bag sealer, a pair of black sandals I loved and a black top that�ll be perfect for the parties that cater to my kinkier side. Not too bad for a couple of short hours in the stores. Laura treated me like a queen, as she would for my entire visit. She carried my bags, opened doors, and just generally tried to be sure I was having a good time. I was. I enjoyed it immensely, except that Laura�s still waiting for a regular paycheck and struggling in the meantime to get by from month to month on her small stipend and whatever James is making from his new job. It would be irresponsible of her to spend money on things that weren�t absolute necessities right now. I understand that, but it felt a little uncomfortable for me to spend much money while she watched, unable to buy for herself. That�s just not fair, y�know?

We had a great meal at Bennigan�s. The lure of his favorite southwestern spring rolls and a double bacon cheeseburger with barbeque sauce only on it was strong enough to get James away from his latest computer game long enough to drive us there in his vintage Chevrolet. He�s a nice guy; a real computer nerd with all the quirks that come with it and a few more that are uniquely his. He�s a little bit tough to talk to. He seems aloof. He�s not unfriendly. He just has that held-back quality of the intensely shy. I should know. It might not seem worth the effort to try to draw him out except that if you happen to make the right comment.. like a genuine appreciation of his beloved Chevy, you�ll get this tiny little smile that broadcasts his pleasure and pride. And then he�ll open up just a little bit more. Laura�s devoted to him. She caters to his exotic eating patterns and habits, allows him unlimited time in his male-only computer lair upstairs, and apparently makes few demands on him in terms of domestic duties and other mundane chores. I can�t help thinking that she�s proud of him in her own camoflauged anti-establishment way. Once again, she delights in the unconventionally quirky. They fit each other beautifully.

I had a cosmopolitan cocktail, which I didn�t care for, and four margaritas with dinner. It took four, I guess, to get the taste of the cosmo out of my mouth. Sorry Laura. I like the sweeter stuff.

After dinner we drove home and settled into the living room after changing into more comfortable clothes. Laura patiently showed me how to get started on the beginning cross stitch pattern I brought with me. I didn�t realize it was going to be so complicated. All the thread came in a single yard-long bundle, leaving me the task of sorting it into colors. I thought I could tell red from white from black, and I guess I can. But it took Laura to help me find the difference between light blue, pale blue, medium blue, dark blue and just plain blue. Once I got started sewing, it was rather enjoyable.. even relaxing. I worked my way through nearly a whole section of pale blue (or was it light blue?) stitches until I found myself nearly out of thread. It wasn�t until then that I discovered I had inadvertently picked up the free end of the thread in my stitches and stitched the whole series in double thickness. I ended up picking almost every stitch back out one by one. Three hours or so of work, just to get back to square two.

Mike came over and we watched a movie. It was incredibly violent, with lots of shooting, explosions and blood. I would never have watched it except for the fact that I had been the one to choose it based solely on the fact that it starred Kevin Spacey. I was too embarrassed to then turn around and make a scene or demand that we change movies. Instead, I guess I just mentally went somewhere else. I remember almost nothing about the movie. I do know I slept through a good deal of it. I feel bad. Laura really liked this movie. She wanted me to enjoy it too. She just doesn�t know.

She didn�t lose her steam until two in the morning. Finally she went upstairs to bed, but not before making a big deal out of being sure I would be comfy on the couch. She was pulling blankets and sheets and pillows from her own bed out for me, checking to see if the air conditioner would be too cold or too warm, telling me to make myself at home and then making it impossible to do a thing for myself. Finally, I told her to leave me alone. I know where the bathroom is, the lightswitch, the blanket and the coffee-maker. Don�t get me wrong� I adore being Queen Leslie, but sooner or later, it has to stop� bless her heart.

In the morning� or afternoon, really, after long coffee and chat, I finally gathered up my strewn-out belongings and put them in my van. Still with the Queen Leslie treatment, Laura packed Cokes in ice for me and carried the heavy stuff to the truck. I really hated to go. It�s comfortable to be with her. But no visit should last more than 24 hours and I was seriously pushing that limit. It was time to go. The end to an amazingly normal visit by two normally amazing friends. Oh�. And here�s the icing. I never smoked even one time. Congratulations are in order.

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