March 11, 2006

I am sick.

I have a fever, and a sore throat, and my lungs feel like they have been attacked by threshing machine.

So I called Lauren and left this long garbled message about how I thought I had a thing of knorr healthy request carrot soup but it turns out I ate it already, and now I am really hungry but there is nothing I can manage to prepare for myself, besides I was really looking forward to that soup, and if she could just be an angel and buy me some soup and bring it over.. I mean if she couldn't that would be okay, I wouldn't be angry or anything cuz I wasn't begging I was just asking and if it wasn't too much trouble also some sherbet..."

Like that for half an hour. she said she almost called the ambulance, and then she just erased the message cuz I wouldn't shut-up.

Anyways, I am a lucky devil cuz she's bringing me soup. But because I know she is stickler about tidyness, and probably she will want to cook the soup for me having brought it all this way, and because my apartment looks like the end result of a frat party or an office raid depending on what surface you are staring at, I am now hopped up on Advil gel caps preparing to clean the important rooms.

Ridiculous isn't it the way friends watch out for each other. Wish me luck I hope I don't keel over.

March 4, 2006

Wierd, someone sent me a song by the band Wayne Omaha, and one line says "don't cry it's saturday night". And I totally was just crying (I am reading The Lovely Bones the saddest book ever written, which is unfortunately also very well written which means I can't just stop reading it.) Anyways, nothing like hearing your life in song, hey.

God I have some weird stomach flu, and/or I drank four beers last night and have lost my golden touch.

Last Night

We went to the Art Matters opening party. Which turned out to be an emptied-out swimming pool filled with 19-year-olds in bias cut tee-shirts and tinted hair dancing with ribbons to various shades of indy rock.

The beer was cheap though so eventually, as opposed to either leaving or watching the bands, 4 of us ended up standing in the room under the empty pool (surrounded by incredibly vacuous and bad art) playing rock, paper, scissors.

I guess that's what you get for desperately wanting to PARTY!!! when you are pushing thirty and have stopped getting excited by David Bowie cover bands.

So here's the game transcript. (players: kevin miriam kit lauren)

Kit: "Okay guys.. one.. two. Lauren! you're a cheaty cheater!"

Lauren: "What? it's on three right?

Kit: "Yeah, well I have to say three first okay?"

Lauren: "Fine whatever, you all just aren't fast enough for me, get it."

Kit: "Okay right, yes we are all intimidated of you and your cheating, um I mean speed. For reals, one two three go!"

All hand go out revealing one paper, two rocks and..

Mir: "What the f_- Kevin what are you doing!"

Kevin: "Westside man, it beats everything."

Kevin the terminator brings gangland to handgames.

I wish this woman was my grandmother. Or my life-skills coach.

Later that same evening Kevin said I had missed my "protein window" when Lauren said I liked to eat fried chicken before going to gym. The direct quote is;

"Miriam you're doing it all wrong, you have to eat fried chicken after the gym that's when you have your protein window."

There are no pictures for Kevins hands explicating a protein window. He looked, if you can imagine, like an overwrought fitness instructor/architect. Upon viewing the size of my protein window, I believe that I could probably get away with two peices of fried chicken, not just one. Wicked.

I like protien windows. I want to know, do I have a chocolate window? Or a toasted bagel window, a passionfruit and plum mediteranean yogurt window? Actually, a general dairy window would be great. And when are they? and how big? My protein window is about the size of a whole cooked chicken, just to give you an idea.