my evening in excruciating detail

Last night I went to a fancy soiree where I got dressed up and drank Scotch and ate chocolates. yum. And I learned all about Scotch from a man in a kilt. I learned what makes a Scotch a Scotch, and I sampled various Scotches that made up a blend, and then the blend itself, and learned that some are nuttier, some are sweeter, some more mellow - and some are even feminine, while others are masculine. And for each one of these details, we had an appropriate - and delicious - chocolate to eat with it. mmm, that chocolate was good.
And you know, I had all this information, and all these elements I was supposed to taste, but each time I raised a glass to my lips all I thought was, "hmm, smells like college." The finer points of Scotch sipping were wasted on me, however, did I mention how much I enjoyed those chocolates?

After the lessons it just got better - cause know what they unveiled? A chocolate fountain! So I explored that, and I met some very nice people, and then I went back to the chocolate fountain, and all was right with the world. (It helped that it was all free, because that makes me happy.)

As I was leaving, I went to say good-bye to some of the folks I had met, and was introduced to one more fellow, who, it turns out, was my 1st grade classmate! My family moved after my only year at the school, putting me in a different district, so most of my classmates there are a blur in my memory. But once we realized we had the same first grade teacher, in the same year, I asked him to repeat his name again. And then I knew. He was the kid that puked in the trashcan that time! I'm sure there were a lot of great things about this kid, but all I could remember about him was that his mother came to pick him up early one day, and just as they were walking out the door, he turned and vomited into the small waste basket by the door. And we talked about it for the rest of the year. Little kids just don't forget stuff like that very easily.
So next I debated whether or not it would be inappropriate to bring this incident up once again - and then I did. He said that he kind of remembered that, but he wasn't sure it was him. Oh, let me tell you, it was.

The school where I spent the rest of my elementary years fed into the same high school he went to, so I asked about some of those childhood friends who I hadn't seen since I finished the 5th grade. I found out that my 4th grade boyfriend (and by "boyfriend", I mean we "went together" and rarely spoke in person) is one of his best friends to this day! I told him to send a hello, and he said that he had just gotten married, and asked if I was trying to break up the marriage. So instead of telling him I said hello, I told him to tell him that I still think about him every day, and wonder when he's going to come back for me. And to please pass him a note, folded neatly into a triangle, asking if he will go with me, and to check the appropriate box. He can find me outside his house in the bushes, looking through his windows and/or going through the trash.

My classmate said he knew exactly where our old class photo was, and that he was going to look at it as soon as he got home. (Can you believe he didn't remember me? I know.) I don't know if he did or not, but I did, and because you are so lucky, I am including it for you here.



That's me front row center. Yellow was my favorite color. Our little puker is back row, 3rd from the left. The kid behind me in the striped shirt? He used to chase me every day on the playground, and he drooled constantly. He never caught me - you would have run fast, too, if you had heard the crazed laughter and seen all that drool coming at you. The towhead in the front, far left - he was the kid all the girls had a crush on. Except me... my first grade crush was middle row, 3rd from left. He was nicer and smarter and a better soccer player than the other kid. See how I already had superior judgement? But alas, we moved that summer, and happily playing soccer ever after on the playground was not meant to be.

Well, I know you're glad to take that trip down my memory lane. Now, in more nauseating news...

The creepy man that lives upstairs from me has a new ladyfriend. Maybe this is a good thing - maybe he'll have something else to think about other than how often our cars leave the house, and what days we are working and what days we are not. That way, my roommate won't be faced with conversations that go like this: "I noticed you worked such and such days last month, but THIS month you worked THESE days. You were out of town less on the weekends. I see you when you wash your car. Those fumes you get from being at the airport are much worse for you than the cigarette smoke I cause to fill your home." and so on.

However, you know when this is a bad thing? When I am at home, minding my own business, and I suddenly I say, "what was that noise?" and then I look up at the ceiling, and I hear lots more, and then I want to stab myself in both ears.

So last night I was discussing this with the roomie, and I told her that it must be the same lady, because the same car was parked out front on the same night last week. And I hadn't noticed if it was still there in the morning... and last week is was pretty late when I was so disturbed, and last night I was earlier, but then, maybe it was later, too, because I was still hoping the sounds of traffic would drown them out while I was trying to go to sleep... and then, oh no!!! I sound just like him!! Am I becoming the new reclusive creepy neighbor? The one who notices which cars are where? Thankfully, although I did remember the days, I did NOT notice cars this morning. I am not him yet. But... if I am on my way... why not just embrace it? I could start typing him letters that say,
"I noticd you have a lady friend. She likes to come at Wednesdays. She has a black car. Where did you go when you were gone last Sunday? Did you go see her? Is she your gurlfriend? I sorted your mail for you becase you ware not here. I try too be helpfil like that. Sometimes you and your gurlfriend sound like you are rite above my sofa, and then I go in my room, but sometimes I can here you in there, to. Do you want a cat tree? I got it in the divorce, even though she took the cat. My ex is a bitch and I hate her. Want to go out?"

and then I will slip it all misspelled under his door. hmm... would he catch on that I am mimicking him? I'm not sure...

But I won't. Because he leaves me alone more now, and I don't want to do anything to encourage a change in that. If any of you are having a similar problem, what you need is 1) One roommate who is confrontational, and not afraid to yell "ASSHOLE!" in the direction of your ceiling, and 2) another roommate who is younger and prettier than you, to take away any remaining attention.

(Scott - if you read this - I'm just kidding! I would NEVER use your sister like that! Never ever. I would throw myself in his path rather than let her deal with him alone... yeah...right...)