last night there was a party for margaret and holmes’ birthday, at my house. it was a really fun time, there were some great surprise guests (like nick and emily curtin, serge, two drinks, SPMOD, psibs) and lots of great dancin’/prancin’/singin’ along, until 4am. today i woke up around noon and continued cleaning and hanging out with peter and margaret, but as much as i hate to say it, my main activity was waiting for a small handfull of phone calls from people i had made loose plans with (people who i rarely see). now, waiting for the phone to ring is a fool’s game any way you slice it, and it’s the kind of affair where even knowing it’s busted doesn’t make you immune. the insult that gets added to the injury of certainly charming company not calling is when you realize, at about 4pm, that the phone is in fact unplugged. bummerrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…
update! one of the calls came through after 4pm and so i was able to have both a modicum of pleasurable surrender to a meaningless universe *and* fine supper on the town. upon parting ways and returning home, i discovered that the beer that got spilled on the heater was, as i anticipated, “not a big deal”, in that the heater still works fine, but it sure isn’t perfect, as it makes the entire apartment smell like steamy puke. well, it can’t all be sunshine, sweetheart!
