Next stop was the Lava Lounge, a dark little hole in the wall night bar/club/lounge type of place with a little live dj playing in the dark corner.

We were hungry at 2 am and drove off to this little Thai Karoake place in Thai Town for a late meal in our friend's little Honda.

Poor little Honda. She got her right wing slammed into a cemet wall by it's owner. Later, our other friend jumped a curb into the parking lot, almost running into a girl standing there and being hit by another car fighting for the same spot, but driving on the wrong side of the road. When we got out of the car, everyone outside was laughing. We must have looked so funny...flying in the air. My friend wasn't even drunk, not to mention a non-drinker.

Got home at 4 am.

Saturday: Woke up at 7:45 am. Worked for the previous company from 8-12. Went to Ralphs for some kitty litter afterwards. While in the canned food isle, my cell phone rings. (Yes, I know....dumb talking on a cell phone in a grocery store. It's sooo LA.) It was J-boy. He told me his car broke down on the fwy on the way back from work Thursday and could've been killed. He's been hitching rides with coworkers living in LA and commuting to Long Beach. I ask if he wanted to hang out. He said yes and asked if I'd like to grab lunch. I go over to his place and we hang out a bit cuz well...we missed each other and needed to get cozy.

We finally leave the house and go for some Peruvian food at some place in the Los Feliz/Silverlake area. This is a new place we hadn't tried yet and it was pretty damn good. I told J-boy that I have not yet had bad Peruvian food. Bad Chinese...yes. Bad Thai...yes. Bad Italian...yes. Bad American...yes. Bad Mexican...yes. J-boy thinks a bit and then says, "You know, come to think of it, I've never had bad Peruvian food, either....well, except for my grandma's cooking." This time, he ordered Lomo Saltado and I ordered some sort of soup with chopped bits of beef, tomato, and spaghetti with coconut milk. It was sooo damn good. For appetizers, we had mussels and some sort of sliced potatoes drenched in this creamy yellow sauce.

There's something about J-boy that I just learned that day that makes me understand where he's coming from and it makes me adore him even more so. He's a good guy. I can't really say exactly what it is but I understand partly why he holds back from being with someone. It's awfully sweet & sad because he cares that much. I understand what he meant by "I'm at a weird point in my life right now...." It's a touchy subject that just came up when I asked him about something regarding good and bad credits. He had said he usually doesn't like talking about it but he's going to tell me, anyway. And for that...I felt like he trusted and was comfortable enough with me to admit to something like that. It involved close family members as well and I just felt so bad for him to have been put in such a situation and for him to care so much about not wanting to jeopardize another person while still in that position. I miss him so much just thinking about it. He is amazing....by far the most responsible and coolest guy I have ever met. I think in a way, he's much more caring and unselfish than most of my closer friends and I've only known him for 4.5 months. The more I get to know about him and the more he opens up, the more I like what I learn. I think it's worth taking the time to know someone like him. This makes me want to bear his offspring.

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I went to bed early that night, not having had much sleep the night prior. My mom called at 11pm, about an hour after I fell asleep. I was all grouchy and grumpy at her. All she wanted to do was chat and ask me how things were. And there I was being such a bitchy bad daughter...just completely rude to a mother who just wants the best for her and who's always there when I ask for it. Then she tells me that my grandpa is in ICU. That's when I woke up and stopped being a bitch. I felt so guilty. My mom does so much for me and I'm always so grouchy at her when she calls. From now on, I'm going to be a lot nicer. I don't understand why it is that sometimes I am not as kind to the people I should care about most....the parents who raised me and gave me what I needed to survive. Why is it that I hug friends, strangers, aunts, uncles, cousins and not my own parents, brother, and sister? I have issues.

So, gramps is in ICU. Stable now. He's acquired pneumonia and couldn't breath the other night. Grandma's been calling mom every night. I asked mom how grandma's doing emotionally and she said that she feels so alone, like she has no one to talk to. My mom says she calls her as much as possible...just to be there for her mom and this makes me so sad that I have tears rolling down my cheeks. It's strange, but my sadness is more for my mother and grandmother than for my grandpa. Mom told me that grandma said even though grandpa can't really talk to her anymore, she still wants him around.

I didn't grow up with mom's parents. I didn't get to know them as much as I could have, being seperated by so much land and sea. When grandpa passes away....would I have tears for him? I think my tears would be more for grandma's and mom's loss of grandpa. It's strange when you don't grow up with your grandparents....you don't feel as much as you could or should, not knowing the person and only knowing you're related to them.

Sunday I woke up at 4:30 am, all pissy because Puma rammed through the baricade I made and everything fell to the ground with a loud bang. I got up and put everything back into place. 5 minutes later, he did it again. This was to repeat itself every half hour or so and I didn't get to sleep much between the hours of 4:30am and 8:30am. I was so pissed. I kept spraying Puma with a bottle of water every time to let him know he's done bad. At one point, I called him a fucking cat. I grabbed him, shook him, and told him in the face how mad I was at him. I wanted to hurt him, but I didn't. Ok, I slapped him lightly a few times, trying to refrain myself from not hitting harder....because afterall....he's just a cat and doesn't understand and as bad of a kitty he can get at times, I still adore him.

If a cat can be this horrible, what happens when you have a baby who keeps you up all night? God, it's scary to even think of that.

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My freelance client, D-boy came over for 4 hours. We spent most of the afternoon updating some labels and burning some files on cd. He's afraid of Puma. It's so funny. Puma rammed trough my barricade again, making a loud bam, jumped onto my desk and went, "meow." I saw D-boy jump off his seat. It was so funny. He said he thought we were being attacked by burglers and he just saw a little black figure standing on my desk. D-boy said his heart was pounding so fast. I couldn't stop laughing after that. Turns out D-boy left his wallet at home so he's going to send me a check in the mail. Also, what's funny is, he had to borrow $10 in cash from me so he could eat before meeting up with a classmate to study. He's going for his master's at USC. I think it's kinda cool, yet funny that he'd feel comfortable enough borrowing money from me. I think if it were me, I'd be too embarrassed to even do that. But, it makes me feel good that people are comfortable with me.