As Will says, Sorry for the hiatus. Things have been reaching a fever pitch here as I prepare (not very well, or swiftly) for my trip to Australia on Saturday. There's still so much to do and so little time to do it. With me foolishly thinking a few months ago that going to the U2 concert tonight and leaving on Saturday morning won't be difficult at all, there is even LESS time to take care of the myriad "tasks" associated with vacations. Laundry, packing, tying up every loose end around my house before I leave, and that's just a few. But hopefully I'll get back before midnight tonight and I'll be able to at least start a few of my last chores so that Friday will be easier. Here's hoping. But we all know how diligent I am when it comes to schedules.
I can't wait to get the hell outta here for a couple weeks. It will be glorious. (That last word was written in a funny voice). Can't wait to see a couple Sydneysiders with familiar mugs.
I meant to blog about this last week, but things got busy and I just didn't feel like it then. Last Wednesday, the 4th, I had dinner with Lenertz at some Italian restaurant up by Steppenwolf. I knew a former counselee, Justin Sisul, would be there because Lenertz offered that Justin could drive me back to the burbs. When I got there, there was Frank talking with Justin and I met him. I then found out we were waiting for three people: another past counselee, Mary something, and from my class: Stephanie Creed and Renee Speck. What a strange gathering of people!
I hadn't seen Stephanie or Renee since graduation, so there was a little bit of awkward non-anticipation before they arrived. I liked them both but you know how weird time is. Renee and I always got along but I'm always struck with that fear that I was/am so forgettable that people I once knew will see me and wonder aloud who I am. I knew that wouldn't be a problem with Creed, but was a little worried it would be with Renee. I'm a freak, I know. Renee said hello to me with my name, immediately, which ended that worry in its tracks. But then it was awkward, because we had NOTHING to talk about.
At one point, Stephanie patted her stomach like a fifty-year-old fat man, and said that "alcohol did this" or something to that effect. I found it both scary and hilarious.
Overall, it was a fine time. The food was good and we got a lot of comped stuff because apparently Justin has been going there for many years. He was a surprising guy: married music teacher in Downers who couldn't stop talking about musicals, chocolate martinis and the specifics of wine. There was more but I don't remember now. And you should have seen the hilarious way he smoked his cigarette outside; I can't even imitate it, it was so strange. But a nice guy.
Lenertz, Justin and his wife are probably going to Ghana next month after Frank's retirement shindig -- shit that reminds me I have to mail that before I leave -- to visit Anthony Cotton and to see Ghana. Like for ten days in the middle of the summer! It's gonna be so hot....
This morning, within the span of five minutes I saw Tristan Gunn and then Tony Vergowe. I saw Tristan because he was on my train and then Tony walking against traffic in the station, seemingly going to the trains. I can't imagine a scenario where someone leaves the city to go to the suburbs at roughly nine AM on a Thursday. Didn't speak to either one. Not in the mood for small talk. But Michelle got me thinking yesterday that I may have a social anxiety disorder. She said she has one and that our mom must've poisoned us somehow, and I eagerly signed up for that theory.
Time for lunch. I'm fucking hungry.
1 comment:
I saw Tristan at Union station last week but was really rushed so I couldn't talk. I had like 6 minutes until my train left and I had to buy a ticket, and was rushing to go buy it when I see him sitting on a bench. 'Hey Tristan' I say as I pass him, and he just barely realizes who I am. I rush to get the ticket and on the way to the train I pass him again. 'Bye Tristan.' He looks up, again bewildered and sort of half waves.
Ah, random people from high school.
Post a Comment