These Crazy Days

DIARY

I think that the ghost of Andy must have really arrived for our Andy Kaufman Party, because that night, and every night since has been either delightfully bizarre or bizarrely delightful.

On Wednesday... um... scratch that, I don't even remember Wednesday. I got out of work late... I know that much.

On Thursday, I got home from work early and did some cleaning. Jess came over and we worked on: bum bum bum: The Wedding List. We ironed out several difficulties, including the choise of wether or not to have Flower Girl / Ring Boy (we will, natch). At pasta. Then she left, and I crashed, exhausted.

On Friday, I went to the Ophthalmology office party and got mildly schnookered (what can I say... a bunch of stressed out clerks and an open bar leads to...) but for the first time in ages, I think I'm connecting with coworkers en masse in a somewhat non-superficial way. Through Lasik there's Steve and Pam from Indiana, Kelly from Wisconsin, and D from Joliet (which should be its own state), and Evonne and Nia. In Ophthalmology, I've met Jerome and Joy, Randy and Michelle and Michelle (who is called Nicki), and Roz and Lateefa and Vicenta and Joe and so they come to the table. It was a very enjoyable night.

Between my intoxication and perennial sleep deprivation I managed to fall asleep on the train. I was woken up at the Howard stop by an attendant tapping on the window. I went do, went home, went to sleep. For 12 hours.

On Saturday, I rode down to Hyde Park and Jess fixed us French Toast for breakfast. We visited until early afternoon, when she met Matt for shopping, and I used her computer all day to work on my U. Wash. app. Then she got home and we enjoyed a party; a very estrogen-heavy event, featuring Jess, Amber, Emily, Meridith, and Gemma. I represented the only Y chromosome. We ate cheese and crackers and caramel made by Amber and little Jewish pastries made by Gemma. We were up until almost three, talking about everything from roleplaying to a serious talking on the thrush and the thrushes. On that note...

On Sunday, I walked in the 5 degree -13 windchill over a mile to the Medici Bakery for my weekly coffee and reading. I started having trouble with my eyes. I won't detail, but it was gross, and seemed exactly like 4 years ago, when I contracted Pinkeye. Not wanting to spread this to a bunch of churchgoers on the week before Christmas, I walked back to Jess', warned her, called Sam, warned him, call work, warned them. We ate macaroni and cheese with tuna. I helped her pack, and she gave me a ride back to the North Side before beginning the long trek to Ohio.

Back home, I visited with Sam's friend Aleta (sp?) and Dana (sp?) and Skylar. We fingerprinted up my brother's Christmas present (finding it irresistable... maybe I'll have to get him a new one) and drank hot chocolate and complained about irresponsible things and irrepressable things. I felt bad about missing church. I dug up times on a 5 PM mass 2 miles away. I left the apartment at 4:15. Between CTA and brisk walking, I made it to Sambong (Filipino Christmas celebration at Advent 4) and got home by 7. It was worthwhile. Even though I froze more than halfway to death waiting for CTA (damn you, Skokie 97!) to get back.

Once home, things settle in a bit. I cared for my eye. Took a shower. Ate dinner. Fell asleep around 10 PM to Man on the Moon.

Now it's Monday. I don't have Pinkeye after all, but a lame bacterial infection of the eyelid. Which is fine with me. This week's work is basically paying for the Christmas presents I buy.

In spite of the length of this post, it's somewhat abbreviated.

Maybe I'll compensate for that later.

Anyway.

I hope the weirdness continues.

~ Connor