Act natural

( Friday, Jan. 21, 2005 11:05 am )

>Pretty frickin great

Hello, all. I am in the midst of what feels like a day off because I'm still in my bathrobe and eating leftovers and reading Jane Austen's Letters (Xmas gift from Davy, and totally fantastic. She would be a really good penpal if she weren't dead). I do have to go to work later in the afternoon though. But then I have Saturday free to sleep and eat and lie about with the boys watching tee vee, waiting for Jim's proposed birthday/football party to kick in. Happy Birthday, Jim. I didn't get him anything, but I think I know a certain birthday boy who would be pleased to recieve a big ol' box of wine.

Did I ever tell you about Davy and Jim and the box of wine? I had been bringing this story up far too often, I think irking Davy, so I try desperately now not to mention "The Great Contested Footrace of 1984", which is what Davy and Jim started angrily discussing after consuming the very box of wine they had brought to a West Phila porch party this past summer. Actually what happened was that I watched in amazement as they segued from a mannerly though drunken discussion of impressionist art to the G.C.F. of 1984 (Davy, the oldest brother, accused of cheating, hotly defends his winning time, and, laughably, "Gold Medal") to a sentimental turn to Jim's ex-fiance and how Davy would have been his best man, leading them both to start crying a little bit. Amazing. Then we all weaved home, some of us (Jim) bouncing disturbingly off of curbs and trees and taking brief recuperative breaks, while I memorably detoured through a small ivy shrub, clawing up one foot in the process.

So these past few days I've been detouring a bit into happiness, recovering from great fears of What Am I Doing With My Life by trying to calm down and be OK with having a little more time to think, to try and re-focus on being creative and productive, and putting off thoughts of failure and needing to buckle down to graduate school for library science (which just about everyone seems to think is a bad idea, except of course for my mom, I think). Maybe. I still just don't know. I'm trying to be a bit more easy-going and pseudo-Buddhist about it, so I can just stop freaking out and realize that my life is pretty frickin great.

Another horrible Quizo loss last night, although I think the team had a generally good time communally doodling, working a crossword puzzle, and writing a letter in between questions. Nevertheless, I was lax in keeping track of my alcohol consumption and got both disgustingly full on fried chicken fingers and a bit too drunk (which is kind of a theme in this entry). And so Davy and I fell into bed not much past 11:30, where we talked soothingly of whales (my knowledge based entirely on Moby Dick, which is if nothing else, extremely thorough on the topic of whales) until falling asleep, which made me feel much better indeed.

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