Most of my weekend was spent in my apartment. Friday, the roommates and I all just hung out and played Nintendo. No one was really able to go out, either because we couldn't afford to or didn't want to go by ourselves because no one else could afford to go out. So we sat around and played a ridiculous number of hours of video games. Guilt free. For the most part. Except for the fact that we spent all of friday night at home playing video games. But I was strangely ok with it.The better part of Saturday was spent prepping for a party in the evening. Floors needed to be scrubbed, dust needed to be hidden, toilets needed to be decontaminated. There was no real reason for throwing the party, although it had originally been conceived as a sort of Jed birthday party two weeks ago. But since his birthday was a week past, it didn't really count. It was also Rodzilla's birthday on Sunday, so that seemed like a good excuse too. Not that we really needed one. There ended up being a pretty good turnout, around 50 people in all I'd say. Notable incidents included one of Dylan's friends bouncing between the walls in the hallway all fucked up and throwing up on our floor, a couple breaking up over guitars and a conversation about baseball, a stirring rendition of Bon Jovi's "Dead or Alive" on three guitars (which was fitting since Bon Jovi played it with one regular guitar and one of those double guitars) and the divulging of a romantic interest or two. Other incidents included a copious amount of cigarettes smoked throughout the apartment, kicked over ashtrays on my bedroom floor while I was not there, and a concerted effort to diversify our little crowd. The last stragglers, friend from college Susannah and Matt, left around 6:30, as the sun was coming up. Jed walked down to the bagel shop that was just opening for a tasty first bagel of the day, and I collapsed into my bed, the room somewhat reeking of ash and beer. I still haven't cleaned out all the cans and makeshift ashtrays. Luckily, I have a terrible sense of smell, so it's bearable.
I had one of the more fitful nights of sleep I'd had in a while. I kept having the same sad dream. Then I'd wake up with an enormously uncomfortable dry mouth, fall back asleep, and have the same dream again. I'd told Rodzilla that I'd take her out to brunch for her birthday, so around noon I rolled over and grabbed the phone and made the call. Deciding it'd be too late by the time we both got ready to go, we decided to see a movie instead. Since it was her birthday and all, I let her choose the movie. Not that she doesn't usually choose the movie anyway. But her choice this time met with more resistance than I usually put up. She really wanted to see "A Beautiful Mind." Everything I'd seen about the movie made me think it looked like absolute poo. It really seemed like a glossed-over account of some eccentric, tragic genius, who somehow, someway, manages to get his life and love together and caps it all off by winning the Noble Prize. But it was a lot more "Total Recall" than I thought it'd be. And it turns out his Nobel Prize was for something he did in 1948. He never stopped being haunted by his mental illness. So I actually enjoyed the film. And I must say it was well-acted. Before seeing it, I thought Russell Crowe was just mugging for another Oscar. My only problem with it was I that they didn't really delve too much into the relationship with his wife or son, and just dealt with the 70s and 80s in about 10 minutes. But the movie was long enough. And being that it was Rodzilla's birthday and all, i didn't mind the experience at all. She's 25 now, by the way. We are getting old.
I just had Chinese food. The fortune cookie said "Your heart will always make itself known through your words." I'm wondering it that's advice, or an actual fortune. Like, "this is something you should remember, in case you ever want to try it," or, "no matter what you do, this'll happen no matter what."
Instant Nostaligia:
Caryn, Phoebe, and Nate. I didn't necessarily approve of Nate's choice of headwear
Rodzilla's roommate Katey, Rodzilla, and James, after the 25 birthday struck.
Me, Caryn, and Phoebe. My left hand appears to be more awkard and uncomfortable than I'd remembered. Caryn's smile is simultaneously hilarious and inexcusable.
Me and Rodzilla in the long and narrow hallway. I put those lights up for Christmas two years ago.
Susannah. She's very little. But enormously pleasant.
A little wall of beer cans and bottles and cups of wine. I just liked the pattern of every othe container being a Budweiser can. I wonder if someone did that on purpose. This was around 6:30 AM.