outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- a bit of ramble, and a dangerous gamble *Jessie wanders in yawning, wearing footy pajamas with one button of the trap door flopped open* Oh, hey there. I guess I've been a little lazy about updating lately. Sorry 'bout that. There is no excuse, so I won't offer one, other than the fact that today should have been a snow day goddammit. Sadly, only two measly inches landed in these parts. Ooh! Just sprayed bean juice on myself. Bet that's not something that happens to you every day. It's ok. You're not missing anything. Unless of course there's a magical skin-enhancing serum that can only be found in freshly-sprayed bean juice, that will allow a person to become invisible and fly and speak in tongues whilst banishing dry chapped skin forever. Thus far, no evidence of that. I probably failed to recap my weekend; such is my wont. But glory be, Stomp was so fantastic! I was enthralled; I especially enjoyed the interactive aspect. The experience was completed with a standing ovation and an Alabama slammer (that was for me). I'd'a rather had a Bloody Mary, but do you think I could come up with that when the waitress asked me? Oh, but no. Saturday, after no fewer than four phone calls from two people who wanted me to wake up long before I was ready, Rob and I took ourselves down to the Cape to meet with my remaining high school friends. We had fun. After Rob left for work and the baby went to sleep, we three girls got loudly drunk and put together a puzzle and played poker over it. Oh shut up. What do you think, that we would strip down to our underwear and have drunken pillow fights? Yeah well, no one else was up for it so we did the whole puzzle thing instead, and no one made out with anyone. Then what? Oh yeah, then it got late and my friends put on the godawfulest stupidest movie since Crybaby. Oh god, Crybaby is bad. But they put on Scary Movie which I had no interest in seeing yet again, so I fell asleep and woke up super duper pissy at 3 when the other girls finished watching/woke up after the movie. Determined not to ruin the weekend and make a laughing stock of myself with my friends, I woke up super duper chipper a little after 8 when the baby woke up. It's really strange, because I can remember her (the baby, not really a baby, actually a little beyond 2) standing in the doorway to the living room where we were sleeping, and having a conversation with one of my friends (the one I made the book reading tape for). My friend asked, where's your mom? and the baby said, dead. All matter-of-factly. What a weird thing for a baby to say. And I didn't dream it either, she really did say that. Went over to the Yo's house in the afternoon when Rob finally dragged his sticky ass (from all the dragging through the molasses) back to Sandwich. There we hung out by the fire and had tea and tarts and watched the dog "chase" a cat out of the backyard. The cat was twice as big as she is and ran in one direction while the dog ran in a completely other. It made no sense, but you know, she's a dog. A small one, at that. More valued for her cute factor than her intelligence. When I got back, after a phenomenal bedroom romp with Rob whose details I will graciously spare you, I went out with my cousin Becca, who will be my maid of honor. She's going to Italy this month but right now is at her parents' house not too far away. We ate out a cute place on Newbury Street and then trekked over (somewhat hapharzadly) to the North End for biscotti and torrone. Strangely, we saw two waitresses from the bar I went to after Stomp on the T, one of them my waitress. Dammit, I forgot to bring a piece of torrone for lunch today. I do have my leftovers however, which I intend to consume post haste. Damn. My coworker's boyfriend is working up to get her a ring and propose. She knows this, and she tells us. I've been engaged since I was 19, and I don't have a ring. It could have something to do with the fact that I proposed and I got Rob the ring, you think? But my hands are bare. I haven't worn a ring since I lost the one my parents got me for graduation. I still look on Mount Holyoke's online lost and found for it to this day. But that's not a part of this story. My left ring finger gets this phantom ring feeling. It preemptively misses my engagement ring. (excuse Jessie while she goes to put pasta in the microwave) Wow, I didn't notice its being so greasy last time. Still smells fantabulous, but I can't eat it yet because it's too hot. Must defer to the applesauce for the time being. I'd kind of resolved to lose some of this bonus bulge I've put on in the past few months, but the recent forays into the wide world of fat has kept me solidly in the flabby dominion I wandered into. I must go back to the daily trampolining. Five minutes a day, not too hard. But it is a little hard when you're not near your trampoline. I turn 22 on Tuesday. On Sunday I can say I turn 22 in two days on Tuesday. Not that it will be that cool but I'm going to say it anyway. Rob has a job fair to go to that night. That's my boy! He's excited because they're going to give a test, to weed out the riffraff, and he's sure he'll do well on it. He's been studying for a long time, and this is the test he's been aiming for, or a preliminary version of it. He'll be amazing. I'm so proud. In keeping with my promise to be nicer to Rob, I tried to be as good a girl as possible. I got pissy for a little while last night, not for long, and bitched him out a bit in front of my friend on Saturday...actually, that's failure, isn't it? It really is; how could I do that? It wasn't even all that big a deal. I should way apologize. I will. I just sent him an apologetic email -- will that suffice? Ohhh, so sleepy. It won't be long before I start having long days with classes embedded in them again. And the piano lessons. And the homework. And the moving, and the job applications, and the wedding, and the dog-I-intend-to-have-but-don't-yet...I don't know why I'm being so pessimistic. I like having things to do. But I just can't believe it's been a whole year since I got back from the Biosphere, and I have so little to show for it. I also don't know why it seems like so little. I got a new job, broke the news to my parents, half-planned and then unplanned a wedding, took a class, crocheted a blanket, taped a book reading, got a credit card, spent over a grand on Christmas, payed off my last semester, opened a diary, watched a season of Witchblade, and invented a cartoon character, in no particular order. I guess it seems like very little because it all went by so fast. I can't conceive of there having been a whole year between this January and last, it hardly seems like any time has passed at all. I can barely distinguish this year from last, and that is such the mark of an old, routine-driven, life-beaten weary adult whose days are slipping by with no resistance. I don't like the feeling. (Ok, I'm going to become a cheap, can't-think-for-myself, must-steal-from-others, plagiaristic diarist for a moment, and end cheesily with a song quote. Ready?) "'This is not really happening.' You bet your life it is. You bet your life it is. Oh, you bet your life."
12:28 p.m. - 2002-01-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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