February 21st, 2002


This Space for Rent

As I sit here, disappointed that there isn't much new bidness floating about the friends list this morning, I realize that I too am contributing to the stodginess of another's friends list by not posting.

But the gas of it is I really don't have much to say. I think I reached a point of full inebriation and relaxation this weekend that the stresses of life have yet to sink their teeth in me and I have a good feeling that I'll be able to ride this buzz until the weekend arrives once again. In my mind, it's Tuesday, which normally means bad bad things, but today I have the warm consolation that I can remind myself it is in fact Thursday.

This weekend was a drunken blur. After waking up Saturday morning floating in Friday's Mai Tais, coldblackncold and I headed off to The Third Annual Graffius/Smith Invitational Foozball Tournament. We took the bronze last year and managed to walk home with the silver this year. It was a good party that started off hungover, got weird, and then when the riffraff split and the fun people got drunker, the party turned downright fun. And Katieflynn and Kellyreimer were there, which is always a bonus.

Sunday morning started with a film at the Drafthouse, then to my house for board games. And beer. And Rum Runners. And Grilled Cheese Sandwiches. There's not much to say about Sunday, or at least, there's not terribly much I remember about Sunday, other than Bob and my brother missing "What communist nation first tasted Coca Cola in 2000" by a coin-toss, securing North America within three turns, having trouble keeping my head up during the completely forgettable episode of the Simpsons, and struggling with Bob to put the empty beer bottles in the trash chute which was full up to the floor above me.

Monday I woke up well for having drank for 13 hours the day before, opened some windows, burned some candles, even vacuumed, and then being completely grossed out by the condition and smell of my apartment, I decided to head to the grocery store while I still had some juice in me. I spent the rest of the day with my brother, who by his own accounts had an "historic hangover", watching bad TV and washing my teddy bear in his washing machine.

Tuesday I called in sick. I had been feeling uneasy since Friday night and of course didn't slow my planned weekend one bit, so I was still a little unwell Tuesday morning. I slept until noon and felt like a million bucks. It was a very refreshing day: I got to get some of the piddly little things done that I had been meaning to do for some time. Of course, by about 5:30pm I was terminally bored and it suddenly felt like day 45 of unemployment all over again.

So recaps aside, I have just been in a blank state of calm acceptance since. Nothing of note has happened on my commute, nothing witty enough to commit to writing has gone careening through my head. I apologize even for this post; I feel guilty for writing something so inane, but everybody needs something to read sometimes.
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    blank blank

Countdown begins

I would like to announce that my Hawaiian Getaway is a mere 20 days away.

I am a little stressed out about it, as I need to buy a new bathing suit and get some other stuff done, but dammit, it's some good stress.
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    excited excited

A Request

If I become one of those early-thirties people who thinks it's just the wittiest thing ever to say I'm turning, say 23 instead of 32 on my birthday happy hour invite, please make sure that birthday is my last.
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    annoyed annoyed