March 11, 2002 | 3:13 PM

7Q)### Thurston St.

So this Thurston Street apartment. These roommates. The Stupid Company. The Boyfriend. It�s not all death, dragons, dark lords, and danger. It is also sometimes sunshine, lollipops and rainbows, too. There are really so many good things. Happy times. Joy. Debauchery. And the like. Which perhaps in certain ways, makes it much more difficult. Because detachment is not an option. Thus the poignancy. The plucking of the heart strings. The misplaced nostalgia.

At the Stupid Company there are friends. Great, great friends. Like Joe the rock critic who writes regularly for the New York Press and Roller Derby. Who is hilarious and wild. Who grew up in Maine and has a Maine sensibility. Who once crafted a dissertation-length article on why Love Child is the best band of the post modern era.. Who is personal friends with Lisa Suckdog and Barbara Manning. Who throws gigantic decadent punk rock parties that last from 12PM until 2AM on Sundays. Who loves Black Flag and The Mamas and the Papas equally. Being friends with him is the next best thing to hanging out with Lester Bangs.

Another friend is Kreuz, who graduated from Mass College of Art and worships Nick Cave. Who looks like a cross between Iggy Pop and a Mary Quant model. Who prays at the Church of The Sub Genius and makes heartfelt mix tapes and can always be trusted to do well on a client pre-test.

There are also Jenny and Seth and and Josh and Collin and Ryan and Lynn. There are lunches spent at downtown watering holes drinking Sam Adams and plotting revenge on upper management. There are inside jokes and the sense of belonging such jokes provide. It�s almost exactly like real friendship.

And there is Angus, of course. More about him and what becomes of him later.

This year there are many parties thrown at our apartment. One of them is a surprise party for my birthday. John plans for months in advance and spends a fortune on Cinderella themed decor. The apartment is wall to wall people�most of them from work. In my dark ringletted hair rests a crown of roses and I wear a red velvet dress and lipstick to match. I am given an erotic cake and bottles and bottles of wine. There is bonding and music and dancing and fawning. A little blond hippie girl named Marnie whom I�ve been crushing on for awhile makes out with me in the closet. It is truly one of the most delightful evenings I have ever spent.

And. And of course. There is the band.

John and I perform blistering sets at the Middle East and The Playhouse. The audience actually pays attention to us. They stop talking when we begin and nod enthusiastically to the music. Eventually people sing along with some of our songs and request them by name. When we finish there is much screaming and yelling and jumping and calling for encores. Other bands ask us to open for them. There is a mounting sense Next Big Thingness circling around John and I. A sense of possibility that makes the drudgery of The Stupid Company bearable.

I tell myself again and again that all these things-- these sunshine, lollipop and rainbow moments-- make the rest of it�the scary roommate problems, the insanity that is The Stupid Company, my fears about john-- worth while. And they do. They really almost do.

Friends. Parties. Kissing girls. The Band. These magic flashes are the delectable gourmet icing atop the slowly rotting several tiered cake that is my life. One day in the not too distant future, the icing will melt and cake will collapse all together.

Stay Tuned for Part the Thirty-Fourth

Making sure that all the girls are stumbling round!

All the world is tumbling down around me!

Read the SAGA from the very Beginning!

time capsule from heaven - Sunday, Aug. 21, 2011
31 - Saturday, Mar. 15, 2008
Dead/Alive - Monday, Mar. 10, 2008
Do not trustTIAA-CREF-- they are fucking their customers - Friday, Jul. 28, 2006
Shilling - Tuesday, Jul. 11, 2006

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