A Week-Long Paragraph

I was just thinking about how I rarely post day-to-day activities. I suppose there isn't much to say about them, but I've been trying to do important things every day lately in an effort to make my life memorable.

About six months ago, I realized that I'd wake up on Sunday morning and not remember most of the previous week, or I'd be asked a question about a particular day that had passed and not be able to answer, for total lack of recollection. Moreover, I didn't care to remember anything. Nothing happened that seemed worth remembering. Plenty happened every day, but nothing shook me, I guess.

Today, I realized how much I've been remembering.

This is what I did this week, in no clear or particular order, and with no line breaks for convenience:

Bridesmaid shopping with the bride. Had some lunch with them. Thought briefly about what it'd be like to get married. Pricing on veils at the bridal store made me take a mental note to learn how to make veils--it can't possibly be $100 worth of labor. Wrote articles, wrote articles. Walked to Chelsea's to have a beer at happy hour and plan my escape from Louisiana, on paper (the math did work out, thanks). Travis met me; we had a beer, showed each other facebook pictures of our parents. Laid on the golf course by campus at dark, it was very wet and the bugs came, but the stars were out. Mandi, Travis and I had a pajama party at my apartment and Mandi fell asleep in my bed for the 3rd time in a week or two. We all had lentil soup and brown rice, all the bowls I had were dirty (that's not a complaint; just something cute I noticed the next morning). Travis wanted us to put make-up on him, but between two girls, we couldn't figure out how to make eyeshadow look good on anyone but ourselves (is that indicative of something?). Went to Hound Dog's, my favorite gay bar, and had three G&Ts. Watched people play pool. The bartender called me a goddess because I brought back everyone's dirty glasses. At Ross's house, I missed the last stair on his stoop and skinned my knee trying to dodge Blair's giant bike. No one had ever seen me drunk enough to fall down stairs, but the truth is that I fall down stairs sober. I even fall up stairs sometimes; stairs are not my thing. Watched the Motorcycle Diaries with Ross until 5am, something we both needed. Asked him to come somewhere with me eventually, he is thinking. Trained Travis on meatloaf day, secretly so I could say goodbye to Judith Stubblefield. She will always be wheezing and immortal in my mind. Tried to swim with Mandi and Annie for hours, but ended up just drinking a bottle of wine while sitting outside of P's, listening to this unfortunate drunk lady talk about the state of the mental health system. While her story inconvenienced me slightly, I couldn't pull away--she'd gotten picked up by the hospital because, while talking to her sister on the phone about a recent death, her sister called 911 thinking she was suicidal. They kept her institutionalized for 6 days, without allowing her a phone call and her husband was out of town. They called her daughter (who was on vacation in Florida) and said her mother had tried to kill herself with an overdose, even though the tox screen was clear. After we finally broke away from her (then repeating) story, we got to swim; while fun, it was almost anticlimactic. Had lunch with Mandi at Zeeland Street Market, ate a tuna salad with deliciousness so great that I wrote down everything I could see in the salad, and plan to make it at a later date. Went in for an interview and got the job on the spot. Went to Duvic's with Amanda after chugging coffee, which made me very nervous and talkative. Ran into guy I interviewed for BR In Focus the first week I did it; he remembered me. Walked to P's to catch a ride with one of the neighbors, and my old boss summoned such anger inside of me that I just ended up walking the 2.5 miles home at 11pm. It wasn't anything she did outright; it's just now that I've stepped away, I can see exactly how fucked up she really is, and it's gloriously paired with my freedom to leave that building the moment I want to, so I did. Freaked out over silly things, about the paper. Cooking made me feel better, a la always. Over the course of the week, I've made black bean salad, lentil soup with udon, curry vegetables and polenta, miso soup and brown rice. In love with honey and everything whole and tasty. Decided to give away my cover story because I'll be too busy to handle it. My nephew's third birthday party and slip and slide and margaritas and good old boys, staples from my life long ago, the smell of my parents' house and the feeling of someone always hovering over my shoulder at the computer. The latter subconsciously drove me to talk to Josh, even if I couldn't find anything to say. I almost reached for my stash of chocolate covered coffee beans behind the picture frame on the mantle, but I knew they weren't there and thought better of it. Tiger Weekly meeting found me deciding to put my opinions in print next week; I do believe I can find something to be pissed off about by then. I am using a pen name, for I believe my real superpower will shine only through anonymity--it's the way of my existence.