Y Tu Mama Tambien

Ladies night at La Casa de Whiz y Christian tonight, having been feeling pretty shitty lately, decided not to go out on the town for a raunchy sweaty Miami night.

Came over in tears to Whiz, and after a cuddle/cry session, we decided to have a smoke and open up a bottle of House Wine, a dry, cheap chardonnay that we love and hate at the same time. Whiz takes out the red and green wine glasses and pours out the emotional juice into the glasses which are fairly new and actually quite charming.

"Red or green?"

....hmmmm

"Red."

"Here's to keeping the past in your heart..." --Pause-- "... and embracing the present."

We assumed the potsmoking, wine drinking positions on the couch. And pressed play.

Y Tu Mama Tambien showed up on the widescreen hugeass TV in front of us.

Christian came in about a third of the way through the film. We passed the bowl to him, took a smoke break that lasted about 3 and a half cigarettes deep between Whiz and I. She told me some stories about her childhood and I felt happy that she let me in on these personal details.

We go inside. I sit on the reclining part of the couch. Christian is showered and watching tennis. We press play. The movie is at the part where the car breaks down as the boys and Luisa are talking about highly sexual things. Good shit.

Movie continues and it was so good that we only took one more smoke break til the end. I go to the fridge to check out the skimpy selection of booze in the grove duplex that I hang in more than my own home. I see 2 Modelo beers that Christian took from his home in Orlando. Bottle of wine is empty, and Whiz gets sleepy and tells us she's sorry that she can't hang anymore.

I open the two Modelos and Christian and I cuddle on the couch talking about how hot Andy Roddick is, and the ginger-kid he is playing against on the TV, watching the US Open. I get a few text messages, which makes Christian flinch, because of the vibrating of my awesome new Blackberry Curve on the couch.

I decide it's time to go home. I get in my car, light a smoke, and turn the radio to 93.1 only to hear Smashing Pumpkins' "1979," playing with the bass turned up, the trebble 3/4s of the way, and I arrive at my house before the song ends. Shame. Great song for a night like this.

I gently, quietly, unlock the door, hoping my mom is sleeping upstairs and not on the couch by the foyer. I open my computer, watch a video on Hurricane Andrew's destruction, sneak back downstairs, pour a paper cup full of my dad's chardonnay, and decide it's time to write.

The chardonnay is dry, cold, perfect. For once, all I can hear is my fan in my room, and I am without any rock n roll, SHOCKING. So here I am, everyone is out, asleep, or reading (I'd like to think?) and I pause every 30 seconds to reply to a message on my phone.

"Here's to keeping the past in my heart and embracing the present."