What Will This Evening (Bring Me This Morning)

Dave and Hunter, natural born killahz

Just got back from a birthday party for Dave, a friend from my breakfast club and Hunter's boyfriend, which she planned as a surprise and turned out to be close to 50 people. 50 people crammed upstairs into the wee little Pagoda & Garden Tea Room in downtown Norfolk, which, if you have ever been there, doesn't easily hold 50 people, let alone seat them, and the more people that came in off the elevator the more we were starting to resemble the stateroom scene from that Marx Brothers movie -- but it was a pleasant enough time surprising the bejeezus out of Dave and managing to get a table downstairs away from the shenanigans and have dinner with Joe, Mike, his dad, Mike C. and Donna and chat and laff and throw things at each other. You know I have never been inside the Pagoda before, but I remember shortly after it was erected just dave and S. and I discovered it and we used to hang around outside the building trying to figure out what it was, because back then it wasn't a restaurant as far as we could tell, and it was never, ever open. Well, the food was okay. And it was so small it was almost claustrophobic. But the koi pond was nice. Just wish my stomach didn't hurt so much.

Yeah, that pain again. The one on my left side that the doctors can't seem to pin down. It's nowhere near as screamingly intense as those two days back in October, but my gut was in knots all day today, and although it calmed a bit during dinner, it's kickin' my ass righteously tonight. Well, not my ass, but you know what I mean. Argh, I hate breaking down like shoddy goods. Somebody, fix me. Fix all of me.