I don't want to see the light, I just want to see the flashlight

too much junk in the trunk

This was waiting for us last night after a dinner at a fairly respectable restaurant. In all fairness, the waitstaff at the restaurant probably thought we were the owners of this truck/refuse-storage container. JP and my brother were throwing napkins at each other across the table at one point during our dinner. Please note that this restaurant had a prix fixe menu, just to give an idea of the level of formality that would be expected at such a place. Also note that my brother had not consumed a drop of alcohol. And is 29 years old. I sat on the sidelines, drinking a sharp glass of cabernet, the kind that comes back and bites you on the inside of your cheek after you think you've tasted it. PG, who had picked the restaurant, looked horrified, and entreated a hasty exit.

No one was in a good mood, and everyone was feeling a bit punchy. This, wine, and generally poor senses of humor led to the following foolishness:

JP: I had to work SO hard this week.
Bro: So what? I work hard every week. I had to work 9 hours straight today.
JP: Big deal. That's easy for you. You are straight.

After that, I made some ridiculously inappropriate remark about JP working 9 hours gay. He burst out a little creme brulee upon hearing that. I lurve JP- everyone should be so lucky to have such a fab gay boyfriend (JP doesn't know we're dating, but I figure that is okay, since our behavior could not change much even if that realization dawned on him). PG looked at all of us disapprovingly, and called us all idiots. Humorless bastard.

The general chaos of last night is a perfect reflection of the past week, though. I have this feeling that I need to figure something out, but I'm not sure exactly what. The hyper-analytical part of me is bucking wildly, begging for more data. The idea of making momentous decisions without some concrete facts does not sit well with me. Lately, it seems like talking to different people only complicates the issue further. How I yearn for blind faith. Ouch. The whinging alert just kicked in and delivered a jolt to my brain.