Act natural

( Monday, Mar. 04, 2002 7:17 pm )

>Stevie invents the womb-dance

Hoo, Boise, do I wish it was no longer today. The fun started around 5 am, when I, having been asleep for a little over an hour, suddenly awoke out of a nightmare about being hungover and sick to find that I actually was in the midst of a full-contact stomachache. I stumbled around in the dark looking for a plastic bag just in case I was about to ralph, but standing felt even worse. So I stumbled back to bed to toss and turn, wishing to die (or wishing at least, that I had not just run out of Tums). My one sweet thought was that if I still felt this bad in the morning, I wouldn't have to go to class.

No dice--I woke up feeling fresh as a daisy. Bummer. So, I was all ready to face the day, until I realized that I have a midterm tomorrow, a thought closely followed by the remembrance that I have not been doing any of the reading for any of my classes. Whoops. Looks like that was not such a good plan after all. Anyway, classes only heaped on the pain, contributing forgetting an assignment due today and getting a C on a paper for the first time since I was, like, born, and being generally wrong all over in class discussions. And now I get to study for my test tomorrow. Anyway, I wish it were Spring Break right now, cause I feel like crap took a crap, and I am that crap.

Just to lay on the depression, I thought I'd add that I just realized that even this guy "Steve," who doesn't go to this school, got to attend the concert on Saturday. We met Steve at the local bar Friday night, when he became fond of my friend and followed us home. It was kind of excruciating to be around him. He came with us down down down to the PCU Dive, where he was embarrassingly the one weird suit-wearing guy among the sweaty, casual kids, and you could practically hear "One of These Things is Not Like the Others" playing in the background. He also ingratiated himself to us by rapping along to all the music. At one point there was a line in the song something to the effect of "you're havin my bay-bay, bay-bay" and he did the little dance move of pointing at each of our stomachs in turn. That marks the first time in my life I've ever had cause to say "stop pointing at my uterus!" I felt so violated. Here's to you, Stevie, the patron saint of crummy days.

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