So anyway, a review
of the past week:
Friday, 9/24
On friday night, Jen, James, matt and I went out, and I didn't get to sleep until about 5am. It was a crazy evening, and I don't care to repeat it. I woke up on Saturday feeling shittier than I've ever felt in my life. To top it off, when I got up to go to the bathroom, I suddenly realized that I really had to throw up. It was pretty much a foregone conclusion, so I just stayed in the bathroom and thought what the hell, I might as well get it over with. I was actually on my way out to the living room to wake up Matt, who stayed the night, but i never made it there. I did however wake him up, with my heaving and whatnot. That was pretty gross. As if the beer, wine, and other alcohol hadn't been enough, I topped it all off with a Falafel, some pizza, and some chicken nuggets. All in all, it was an expensive, crazy, and eventually painful night. We lost James after we went to this bar on St. Marks, and Matt, Jen and I headed over to Webster Hall, a dance club that was somewhere i can't even remember where. It was pretty horrible, and I still owe Jen 25 bucks. I can't believe how fucking expensive that place was. Anyway, we left there around 3:30am I think, and it took Matt and me about an hour to get home, largely because we both fell asleep on the train and missed our stop. i woke up just in time to see the 7th Ave. stop fade in the distance. So I actually didn't get to bed until 5:30. And it was maybe the most unrestful night's sleep I've ever had.
Saturday, 9/25
I woke
up feeling like someone had stuck two railroad track spikes in my eyes.
Boy, I suddenly feel like Gus.
Anyway, the unpleasantness was constant, and I didn't have much time to
recover, seeing as my parents were en route to Brooklyn before I was even
up. And of course we had a lovely lunch of Italian food. Don't get me wrong,
I'm really glad my parents were here, and the lunch was nice, but fried
calamari and raw beef carpaccio wasn't a good cure for a bad hangover.
Of course, i was the one who ordered all that crap. I just cancontrol myself,
no matter how horrible I feel.
So after
that, they drove me over to Washington Square Park, where I was supposed
to meet Nicole. I never found her though,
so I went up to Penn Station to pick up Rodzilla.
I looked around briefly for maybe a gift of some sort, but nothing inspired
me. Plus, it woulda been one more thing I woulda had to carry back to Brooklyn.
And we both agreed that woulda been a pain in the ass, seeing as she had
2 suitcase, one of which weighed about 70 pounds, and a coupla other bags.
That wasn't a lot of fun.
But I
was so glad to see her. But I won't get into that.
Sunday, 9/26
We basically
loafed around until about 1, then went uptown to the Metropolitan Museum
of Art. It was nice enough, and we used our student ID's to get a break
on the "donation." Why can't they just charge admission, instead of guilting
you into paying a donation. Anyway, it was nice enough, except when I lost
Rodzilla for about 30 minutes. We thought we wouldn't have enough
time there, but we only stayed for about 2 hours. Outside of the Met, I
bought three paintings from a 7-year old kid, Adam, who wasselling photocopies
of some artwork that was supposedly on display in the Met, for a buck a
piece. Ic ouldn't believe it, a 7-year old selling photocopies.
What's the world coming to? I asked him how much the originals were
going for, and he just shrugged and said "I dunno, two dollars?" I demanded
an original, but he said he had them at home. So I settled for his signature
on the copies, on the frames, which were made from colored popsicle sticks.
I tried hanging them in my bathroom, but they started to get all warped
from the moisture. So now they're just more junnk in my room. Damn kid.
Anyway, the rest of the
visit was spent largely doing boyfriend-girlfriend things. We ate out a
lot, watched tv, and saw a movie. We Saw American Beauty. I say
it was easily one of the best movies I've seen all year. It's right up
there with Rushmore, Election, and Happiness. It's most remeniscent
of the last two, I think. But all the actors were pretty good.
On a side note, it was good to see former "Quantum Leap" star Scott Bakula
working these days.
Anyway, Rodzilla left on Wednesday evening, and I don't know when she'll be back. Well, I know she'll be back for Christmas, but I'm not sure exactly when . But it's at leat a good 2 and a half months till we see each other again. that sucks, dude. I'm hoping to get over to France at least once while she's there. I'd really like to go after classes end in December and then fly back with her when she comes back for Christmas. Then we could spend a little time here in NY. Winter has always been my favorite time to visit the city. But I've never lived here in the winter before, so I don't know, maybe it'll be a pain. Anyway, that's getting a little ahead of myself. I've got a lot to do between now and then, and sure as hell need a job if i'm going to do any travelling. Then again, when she went over to Council Travel the other day, it said that a round trip to France was only about $360, if you bought their student id card for 20 bucks. Sounds like a deal to me.
In other
news, i'm starting to get a little depressed about my grad school program.
I missed class yesterday to take Rodzilla to the airport. And I don't know
how much I'm really getting out of my classes. But I have no other options
right now. What I really need to do is form my own ideology, and pioneer
some new school of thought or something. All I need is a catchy name. And
some principles. I know I have them, but I'm not quite sure how to put
it all into words. Whenever I try to say something, i'm so conscious that
I'm making crass generalizations that I always have to qualify everything
I say. Anyway, all I need is an ideology and some intelligent followers
to lend some credibility. Then I can just sit back and publish random
bits every once in a while, and relax. Not that I don't already.
But I'm
also starting to get the feeling that I'm not making enough of an effort
to get to know the other people in the program. I talk to 'em, but maybe
I'm not being friendly enough. Then again, i'm a alittle afraid of
them finding this, so maybe I won't write anymore.
I ran
into Matt today. He's up in NY interviewing with more law firms.
He just got an offer for about 115 thousand a year. What a dick.
Anyway, he called me, and heard a message I left for Nicole on Saturday,
telling her that I would be in Washington Square Park at 3 o'clock. I recorded
that message on saturday, and forgot to change it. Of course, Matt didn't
know that. but sure enough, I had some reading to do, and at three o'clock,
I was sitting right there in Washington Square Park. Funny how that worked
out. So we met Jen after my class and we went to this Indian resturant
in the West Village. We left an extravagant tip because he gave us
a 10 dollar bill instead of a one dollar bill. But I think I paid to much.
But that's a moot point now, really. But it's interesting, because when
I was out with Rodzilla the other night, the waiter forgot to charge us
for a $23 dollar bottle of wine. Of course, this was the meal Rodzilla
volunteered to pay for before we went to dinner. Little did I know that
the dinner would only be 30 bucks. But we left him a 10 dollar tip. But
still, this kind of thing always happens to her. I'm not bitter,
and I don't mind paying for her at all, but it just seems odd that she's
always getting these lucky breaks. Yesterday at the airport, her ginormous
suitcase was 8 pounds over the 70lb limit, which meant she had to pay 50
bucks. The lady seemed like a real jerk. But hen after Rodzilla's did her
damsel in distress and handed over her credit card, the lady paused for
a moment, handed back the card, and said "Go treat yourself to a nice dinner."
I mean, really... Then again, this kind of stuff seems to happen when i'm
around too, so I like to think that people just like us together, and think
it's sweet or something. Anyway, that's what I like to think. But
it's probably mostly her. Well, it's late, past 2 am. And I
have promises to keep. And mile I go before I sleep. Not really.
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