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That being said... Emily, Melissa, and I (and two of Melissa's friends) are going to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Yes, really.
No, not really. If you were wealthier children, maybe. Melissa would go into credit card debt for the experience -- I am sure she did for other trips -- but you would never.
To date, I have not visited Louisiana. I can claim other adventures -- Salem, a haunted murder house, too much of Northern California, Las Vegas -- but too few for my years.
Last night, she tried to solicit her friend Evan to come with her. He, as far as I can tell, gave a vague and indecisive answer as he undoubtedly didn't think she was serious.
Evan moved to Argentina on a whim to do sketch comedy and never returned.
I mention this to underscore that the issue was not a lack of adventurousness on his part but a lack of trust in Melissa.
It also might speak to his possibly admirable confidence in bizarre life plans.
While we are on the topic of Melissa and Evan -- and since she is not around to excoriate me for bringing this up -- she maintained a burning crush on him for years. Did this mean she did not mock him? Of course not. Her common points of mockery were his height and his pompousness -- she thought he was pompous, but I am not making any claim there. He was undeniably a tall drink of water. She had these feelings for at least one other guy, possibly named Chris (I cannot guarantee this is accurate). Evan was not interested in taking advantage of her as I do not think their friendship had the diameter Melissa wished. She and Chris shared a mutual obsession when he had sex with her and treated her as though she were beneath him -- she excelled at those. Evan was just a guy Melissa knew. She openly scorned his girlfriends, none of whom seemed worth the energy. He was, in short, never going to sleep with her and could get his own drugs. She did not think she had much else to offer.
When he left for Argentina, she mocked him more for putting on airs, but they hardly knew one another by then. When she died, I do not know that he was moved.
This morning, her friend Liz and she were surfing the internet, which all of you little cyber fiends know is the path to damnation. She stumbled upon a travel site and ended up reserving a hotel near New Orleans for about a week during Mardi Gras. Her mother, perhaps not terribly surprisingly (for reasons we won't get into), forked over her credit card to fund this adventure. So reservations at a decent hotel were made.
What did I tell you? Her parents indulged her too much.
I assume she cancels this reservation, as you have some time until Mardi Gras.
This also suggests that Melissa may have been more manic than capricious, though I doubt her reservation was drug-induced this time.
I was jazzed that she had decided to do this, as I am all for ridiculous adventures involving hotel rooms.
Given what Melissa tried to do to you the last time you were in a hotel together, this sounds more like overcompensation.
I would have loved you to have done this, mind you, with a ninja to protect you. It would be a fantastic adventure, and you need more of those to develop into a fuller person.
Life would have opened to you if only you were a little braver.
As an Anne Rice fan (it's a sad, sad affliction), how could I not be thrilled for her?
You will have a moment with one of the Lestat books -- there are many of those in your future -- where you are horrified at how poorly she has written the character. You pull The Vampire Lestat off a shelf and open it randomly, reading aloud without previewing the text.
It was just as bad.
Now, don't get me wrong: Rice does get worse. She eventually decides vampires are made of the micro-plastic coating of the dome over Atlantis, put there by owl aliens, and she resurrects every dead character as a corporeal ghost.
You should reserve your fandom for better things.
Somehow, Emily and I got included in the plans for the trip.
Excluding would be rude, but Melissa claimed she never liked Emily. I don't know that this is true, but I'm sure amity turned to enmity within a few years of the end of your relationship with Emily.
After we were all checked out on the machine (save for Liz, who has planned her death out. Don't ask), M bought her gum and pony elastics from the drug store area, I suspect just to get the special drug store bag.
I am asking! What does this mean?
Liz is still alive. She got married a few years ago. She seems happy, but we don't interact much.
After we were sated of using pavement to give us direction, we sat and reveled more in how greatly this impetuous plan was turning out.
Again, a delight to discuss, but there is no follow-through. I doubt it is mentioned after this day.