I went to a lovely fundraising party at a local theater a few weeks ago. I had a margarita or two before arriving and started out in a good mood. Yummy food and good food improved it. I put $10 of raffle tickets into a basket and saw my friend Steve do the same, so, hedging my bet, I told him I would give him the pack of 10 couple’s movie tickets if I won if he promised to give me the flower studded horn-rimmed sunglasses and bowtie if he won. Beth, Steve’s girlfriend, had made the basket, convinced me to enter the raffle, and was the ticket drawer, saying she would make sure I won.
When the drawing happened, she indeed called one of my numbers from the stage. I walked up holding my ticket and she laughed and pushed me back into the audience, assuming I was kidding. But I am now the proud owner of two tickets to see the Little Shop of Horrors, a DVD of the Rick Moranis movie, a carnivorous plant growing kit, silly sunglasses, a bowtie, and more, less the movie tickets.
We then hit up a few bars and I wound up passing out on a coworker’s futon head to toe with my friend (and coworker) Wade.
The next day was second Easter, and I found the most hidden boozes, including a Smirnoff Ice, which I didn’t quite finish in one go. I think the carbonation actually helped my hungover tummy. At this event, I met a friend’s new roommate named Courtney, who I noticed was cute, funny, and interesting, in that order. (Everyone brought 6 drinks and I found 13, beating last year’s score by 1. I gave all but two of them away.)
On Sunday a housemate and I bumped into friend and Courtney again at the rubber ducky race. We wound up spending the entire day together. Then I had a bizarre experience which is better appreciated if you know that I am a champion sleeper. I can fall asleep in a few minutes in almost any conditions and sleep through most things. I was up half the night talking with Courtney in my head, and dreaming of the same the other half. It was the closest thing I’ve experienced to love at first sight.
During the following week I talked with her a few times and arranged a date that Saturday. It turned out to be a fun time, but not terribly date-like as some of her friends from out of town showed up unexpectedly and we spent the afternoon as a group. I had to leave for a gala at the museum in the evening. A few glasses of free wine made the after party almost inevitable, and, following visits to a couple of bars, Wade and I somehow found ourselves in the same configuration on the same futon as the previous weekend.
That Sunday was Streets Alive which is a kind of festival with a simple premise: block off traffic on a stretch of road for an afternoon and do what you want! There was music and games and an Anarchy Zone equipped with boxes and building supplies, so.
Courtney didn’t want to go on another date, having just gotten out of a long relationship— not that the particular reason matters much. I intentionally came on pretty strongly, too. I’m moving away in the fall and won’t be in town much this summer, so it seemed like an all-or-nothing situation. And I assumed it wouldn’t work except on the off chance she felt as crazy as I did. BUT I’m super excited that I’ve got that potential! I’ve only felt as irrationally smitten once before and was a little worried I’d never feel that way again, and it’s actually more encouraging that I knew almost nothing about her. In short, a brutally cynical physicalist philosophy hasn’t undermined my ability to experience the absurd joy of life! Or, in more appropriately cynical language, rational thoughts don’t seem to be interfering with the happy hormones in my head.
In the mean time, I had asked a young lady I met at the climbing wall out just before meeting Courtney, and went on a date, which I kind of tried to make into a friendly hangout time, just after. Hopes dashed with Courtney, I made another date with Emma which, now that I was a little less distracted, was a ton of fun. That week I had had a real fun fellow come in to work to ask me (tell me) about his rocks. The subject shifted alarmingly quickly to ley lines and I had to call on my teacher skills to redirect him. I told Emma this story while we were drawing things and this was the result:
Obviously I’m not an artist, and that took me like two hours and a few glasses of wine to draw, but I’m pretty proud of it.
The next day I saw Matt and Kim, and Ludacris and got a sunburn.
The next weekend was pretty awesome, but unremarkable except that Richard came to visit from Switzerland. The next next weekend I went to Niagara Falls and the St. Catherines area to visit my friend Cam and his new baby with Laurel. Richard and Steph were supposed to come too and then they didn’t and it was annoying.
It was a fun rental car roadtrip and we enjoyed the awesomeness of the falls and lovely beach vistas, but, to me, the most noteworthy thing was Cam. He was always a real extroverted, happy-go-lucky, laid back, unflappable kind of guy and had a kind of boyishness that made it hard for me to imagine him as a father. He was exactly the same yet at the same time the most natural father I’ve ever seen.
Last weekend Laurel and I went to Boston and stayed with my friend, her ex, George. We had a lovely time catching up and he and his roommate toured us around the town. I got to see my sister and her boyfriend for the first time since they moved there. And I got to see my friend Zoe, who also passed out at our (no former) coworker’s house in BOTH previous stories, and who happened to be there for a music festival.
This weekend has been another much-needed low-key one: a little Ithaca Festival, last Supper Club at Laurel’s current house, and volleyball in the park, the latter two with Emma. I have two days left of work. I will be at the first of three Iowan weddings in a week. In a month I’ll be in Switzerland. In a season I’ll be in Cincinnati.