Striving For Mediocrity: If it wasn't for Celestia, I'd have nothing to write about.

Friday night, just before midnight, I got a phone call from Jason. He told me that he was at a bar around the corner from my office, and that I needed to get over there, because he was hanging out with someone, but he wouldn’t tell me who.

I hate when he does that. He knows I can’t stand not knowing.

So I fixed my hair and perfumed myself up in hopes that I might coax Jason into some “hey let’s do it for old time’s sake” sex afterward. You can’t blame a girl for trying.

I get to the bar finally, and I see Jason and his friend Tony sitting at the bar. I didn’t immediately understand why he called me down there just to hang out with he and Tony. Then I saw who was sitting on the other side of Jason talking to him. It was Celestia.

Fucking hell.

I put on my best fake smile, and when I hugged Jason I whispered in his ear that I was going to rip his dick off later, and not in the way he would like. He told me that as soon as she saw him, she wouldn’t leave him alone, and that’s why he called me (Jason, in spite of the fact that he is twice her size, is really intimidated and freaked out by Celestia. He has seen her wacky mood changes on more than one occasion, and always says he is afraid the next personality might be the one with a knife).

I could tell she was drunk, and so was her boyfriend, Sucker. I ordered a big martini, and gulped the first one down pretty fast. I also told Jason he got to pay for all my drinks, since he bamboozled me into coming down to the bar. He very smartly agreed.

Well, it doesn’t take much for me to get drunk these days, so after the first martini, I was way buzzed. Celestia’s ugly, bitchy friend Butterface was there, too. As much as I dislike Celestia, I hate Butterface. I told Jason to keep her away from me, because she is part of the trouble Celestia tried to cause for me when I was out of work a few months ago.

**Sidebar: Butterface called my boss, HR Boss, and told her that I was consistently rude to her, and sounded “put out” when I had to put her calls through to Celestia – which is untrue. Obviously, it is my fucking job to be polite to everyone on the phone, even fat, ugly cockslags (thanks, Dan) like her.**

Jason, Tony, and Sucker start talking bullshit motorcycle talk, forcing me to talk to Celestia without Jason as a buffer. Right before I break my martini glass and slit my wrists with it, three of my Irish friends came in. Thank god.

I called them over. We started talking, and laughing. Keith, my oldest friend of the three, starts telling me how great I look I gladly accepted his compliment, and joked, “You’re only saying that ‘cause you’ve been on the piss all night.”

Here’s where it gets really. Fucking. Good.

“She looks so good, she’s going to be a real tosser". Ceslestia said, still not knowing what the word meant.

Uh-oh.

So Keith, Colm, and and Darren (who looks like Colin Farrell’s brother) started laughing hysterically.

“You fancy yourself a real tosser, hey Andie?” They all call me Andie, and I hate it. That’s why they keep doing it. Keith also knows I hate Celestia from before I ever worked with her.

“Well, Keith, you know me. I just don’t think I’ll be able to help myself.” Celestia started laughing, and then told us that she and Butterface had cute little baby tees with “tosser” in pretty pink letters made for their next trip to the river.

Keith looked like he was going to tell her, but I shook my head, and started yelling at the bartender to bring us shots. When Celestia and Butterface went to the bathroom, I told them the story, and they all laughed. And then told me I was probably going straight to hell.

I already knew that.

I can’t wait to see the pictures from that trip, with those two drunken morons walking around wearing shirts that insult themselves.

I am a nice person. She deserves that shit.

Tick Trix warned me, and it has happened. I have become somewhat addicted to myspace. The bad thing is, every email I have gotten in the last four days has been from some guy who’s 18 or 19, or their whole profile is about smoking weed, or partying non-stop.

But I can not take my eyes off of these wacked pictures these people put up. I mean, I am an open-minded girl. I don’t think I am uptight in any way, but when the first thing people see about you is this: