Celestia Part One, and hanging out with The King.

Ok. By request, here is the story of me and Celestia.

First, I should explain her name in this diary. When Anne Heche went all wacko a few years ago, and she was speaking in tongues saying she was an alien, she said her name was "Celestia". It fits her perfectly.

On with the show.

When I was about 20, Kay was dating this guy Mama’s Boy. Mama’s Boy played on a Friday night softball league with a bunch of his high school friends. One of those guys was Dick. He was a flake, irresponsible, cheap, and a liar. And not attractive, yet all the girls wanted him.

Celestia started showing up at the games, because she knew all the guys from high school, and also because she was one of the girls that liked Dick (haha). Celestia brought with her a trampy reputation. She slept with everyone.
She also had a list of ex-best friends a mile long. At the time, Kay and I didn’t know anything about her except that she was a slut (and given our own personal history, neither one could judge her strictly on that).

During the course of the games, we started talking to her, and getting to know her. She seemed cool to us, so we considered her a friend.

When she and Dick started dating seriously, we saw her more and more. She still seemed alright to me, but there was something not quite right, although I couldn’t figure out just what it was. I had heard her talk about other girls in a vicious manner, criticizing their looks, their weight, their boyfriend, everything. Everything was up for ridicule. It was easy for her to criticize, because she was hot. Red hair, blue eyes, and a gorgeous body.

I remember Kay and I had to celebrate our 21st birthdays together (we are a month apart), because Kay had her wisdom teeth pulled the week of my birthday, and I didn’t want to do anything without her. Mama’s Boy took us to this bar at the beach and got us completely shit-faced. We had a blast. When it was time to go home, Celestia offered to drive me, since she lived pretty close to me. We stopped at Jack in the Box on the way, and were sitting in my house eating when she told me something. She told me something about her that was very private (as much as I despise her, I have never told anyone this, and won’t), incredibly personal, and completely threw me for a loop. I mean, we were buzzed, and laughing and having fun, and then she drops this bomb on me. I didn’t even know what to think except “why the fuck is this chick that I barely know telling me this?” That was my first clue that she was not quite right.

Dick, a painter, turned us on to this divey Irish pub that he and his dad painted, and told us how cool it was and how awesome the family that owned it were. We started hanging out there all the time. Every weekend, before we would go to the bar, we would go to Celestia’s apartment and have some beers before. It was one of these nights when I got a little insight into her insanity (and makes me sympathize with her just a little bit).

Celestia’s mom was fucking crazy. I mean, certifiably crazy. Celestia told me on a few occasions that she was not normal, but I had no idea what that meant until that night.

We were sitting in her bedroom, listening to music and drinking some beers, waiting for everyone else. Her mother was in her own room, packing her things to go stay at her boyfriend’s (which she did every weekend).

All of a sudden, her mom charged in, and starts screaming at the top of her lungs about how Celestia kept taking her clothes and her make-up, and never putting it back in its place, and what the fuck was wrong with her, and how the fuck did she end up with such a selfish, ungrateful, worthless daughter. Celestia didn’t cry. She didn’t react at all.

When her mom left, she just looked at me and said, “See what I mean? Not normal.”

About this time, I started dating X. He was on the softball team that Kay’s boyfriend played on, so we had been friends for a while before it got serious. I was stunned when he asked me out, because he a) never dated fat "voluptuous" girls before, and b) was truthfully way hotter than I thought I would ever get.

See what a talented seductress I am?

To be continued...

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The only good thing I can think of that exists in North Carolina (besides bbq pork...mmm...pork), warcrygirl, gave me some questions to answer. I love answering questions. It must be the rambling whore in me. Here goes:

1. You've been assigned to write a new cheer for the cheerleading squad. You hate the cheerleading squad. What is your cheer?

How could she have guessed that I hated the cheerleaders? God, did I ever. Here's a cheer you'll never hear:

We're so fine, we're so thin,
we like to sleep with our best friend's men.
We're dirty whores, and we don't care
at least we don't have frizzy hair.
We've had abortions and we'll have more still,
cause we're too stupid to get on the pill.
We're not smart, but that's ok
our boobs will take us all the way.
We're skanks, we know it,
we've got the STD's to show it.
Goooooooooooo team!

2. You're in a foreign country attending a dinner with heads of state. You are served a local delicacy and it still has its face and feet attached. What do you do?

After I gag, I would politely say that I am a vegetarian, and couldn't possibly eat whatever the fuck was on the plate. I have learned that anything called a delicacy will never enter my mouth.

Ever.

3. What was your reaction the very first time you heard of fellatio?

I didn't have any reaction. When I was a kid, my uncle, who is about twelve years older than me, used to keep piles of porn in the bathroom of my grandparents house. As soon as I discovered it, I couldn't stop looking at it (which is still the case). I knew what sex was, so I figured that was something that went along with it. So, I was never grossed out about it, and never apprehensive about doing it (much to the enjoyment of every man I've dated). Now, my reaction the first time a guy came in my mouth is a whole other story.

4. What one trend from the 80's would you like to see make a comeback?

Oh, god. There were so many horrendous trends in the 80's, I don't know if I want to see any of them back. I mean, it's bad enough feathered bangs are back in, I don't know if I could handle acid-washed jeans, flourescent clothes, valley girl talk (which, unfortunately is still part of my vocabulary), men in pastel colored suits with shoes and no socks... I guess if I had to pick one, I would like to see hair metal make a comeback. Bring back the power ballad!

5. You get to spend 24 hours with anyone you want. Who do you spend it with and what would you do?

Ok, I probably should answer with some bullshit philosopher, or dead president, or some great writer. Fuck that. I didn't even have to think about this answer. I would totally hang with Elvis. First, we would kick it in the safari room at Graceland wearing sequined jumpsuits. After doing some ass-kicking karate moves, we would eat some pork chops and fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches (which I have had, and are GOOD). After that, we'd jam for a bit, and sing "Burning Love," and "Love Me" after which I'll talk shit about 'Scilla just enough to talk him into singing my two favorite Elvis songs, "Always on my mind" (though I am partial to Willie's version) and "Suspicious Minds." Then we'll jump on his jet and go to Vegas, where we'd hang out with Frank and Dino and fucking tear that town up.

Fuck. Yeah.