Um...(laughs)
What a bizarre weekend. We had a party Saturday night that lasted until Sunday around 11:30 with four girls watching Mad Men and eating a Medifast brownie with French vanilla ice cream. I was terribly sick, with my brain on a different planet for most of it.
I like my blog entries to be a more stand-alone in structure, and most of my seeds of thought in this entry will be spouting into more thought-out entries later in the week. Lord knows I can go on forever about roommates, my post-grad future, and how to throw a party. So bear with me as I ramble in pieces.
Saturday:
I was sent home early from work because I was so sick. I looked "like shit" according to my favorite/former least favorite boss. In my entire working career I've only left work early due to illness once, so know that I wasn't in good shape.
The party planned for our house was a bit an odd ball. My boyfriend, who's social in a more BBQ with beer with the neighbors-kind of way, than a club/bar guy was the one who decided to throw the party in the first place. He invited our dj friend and has been hyping it up for about two weeks.
I came home while the roommates were putting up more Christmas-style lights around the living room and the bf went to get the keg. Rule #1 about a party: good lighting. As the girls put on their make-up, curled their eyelashes, picked our their outfits, and discusses metabolism, I found myself half sitting in the tub wearing capri tights and my green Sprite t-shirt trying to mellow out the pounding in my head, my achy feet, and clear up my sinuses so I could breathe.
Cut to a few hours later and that familiar panic that no one is going to show up. We, the roommates, starting dancing by ourselves and try to cheer ourselves up. Around 10pm the dj showed up with about two dozen friends, and our friends showed up about 15 minutes later. Thank God. The music was thumping, the disco lights, and black lights, and Christmas-style white, blue, and orange lights were glowing, people were in a good mood in their skinny jeans and boots, and it was a dance par-ta.
I got to dance with my roommates and with my boyfriend, who at the beginning of the night was twirling me in the kitchen and making me laugh, and towards the end of the night was more stressed out by dealing with the cops who came twice.
I'll admit I was surprised that the cops came at midnight. They're usually pretty cool in San Diego. Anyway, round 2 of our party was with the roommates and neighbors and much lighter music getting drunk on shots and taking pictures of them planking around the house, and other wacky shots. There's a picture of a few of us on the floor holding an umbrella someone stole last week. Good times.
Sunday:
The dj spent the night so around 10am everyone was up and getting ready for mimosa's and another round of partying. I spent most of the morning in bed reading online articles and resting my sick body and ripped up throat. I didn't come out until around 1pm when the football game was on with techno music playing for sound and about a half dozen people drinking from the keg with tea cups.
So much for making homemade chicken noodle soup and listening to the XX while recovering. Despite my fever and memories getting confused with reality, I was rather content sitting with everyone on the couch watching the next game and the game after that, occasionally getting up to dance for retro songs like "Hey Ya" by Outcast. Not your typical Sunday. A few episodes of Mad Men later and the party finally ended around 11:30pm Sunday.
Today (Monday):
Work was surprisingly pleasant. Yes, I sounded like a sick frog, and yes that coffee shop I tried out sucked, but I got to bartend tonight to some loud Canadians and make some lunch money for the week in tips. I got home late as usual but I was in a preening mood of good will and attraction.
All day I've been planning on gifts to give to my roommates before they take off tomorrow, and I want to buy my boyfriend something as well. For the past week he was sick, then I was sick, then he got sick again because of me, and I'm still getting better, and we've just been off. I want to get him a surprise gift to change the vibe and to invite him on a date with me on Friday (my day off) to go to the museums and a nice lunch. Oh, and sex.
Sidenote: does sex make one get over sickness faster? Usually when I'm sick my skin feels funny so I want to be left alone. This time I've craved just being held for human warmth and contact. Since I got sick the bf has refused to kiss me because of germs, and then he has, and then he sulks when he feels under the weather again. Dude, you got me sick. Get over it. Needless to say, I've missed sex.
Me being me--far too forward and not enough finesse--walked into our room after work today and announced: "We're having sex tonight. Hard. We haven't had sex in like a week and that needs to be changed. Plus it's Monday [first day of my bc pack; lots of hormones]." He's stupid response: "Maybe when you're healthy." Me: "You're sick, I'm sick, I really don't care." Him: "Any luck with those rooms?" Me: [smile dropping]. Him: [Trying to be playful]: "Maybe when you have good news too." Me: [Frustrated and annoyed] "Don't worry about it. Him: [Trying to be playful and lighten the mood] "I'm just fucking with you." Me: "No, you're not. Just forget it." [walked out of the room].
He's tried to make it up with me all night by rubbing me back and dancing foolishly in public, and he's taken a few moments to sincerely ask me how my room hunt is going and how he can be more supportive. It doesn't help though. He really touched a sore wound at the worst time he could have. I've tried to hide my irritation the best I can though because it is my roommate's last night in San Diego before she goes on her travels back to New York.
We all went to our favorite burger joint where the neighbors worked and enjoyed a mountain of onion rings. My roommate leaving was in a really solid mood, talking about the people she's meet and places she's been, and craziness of the party this weekend. She's glad her bike sold yesterday so she doesn't have to worry about it and she'll be returning her new camera tomorrow because it absolutely sucks. She decided to stay out with our neighbor J, M, and the bf while my other roommate and I walked home (work at 7am).
In tomorrow's entry I want to talk more about her, and the sadness and hope that goes into a goodbye. It's been a real honor hanging out with her this summer. Oh, and a new roommate was just decided on today. She's Canadian who's looking for a place to stay for 6 months. My boyfriend didn't ask my opinion of her until last minute, which is a million miles away from the long discussions 4 months ago that we used to have about all of the candidates. It resulted in JH, who's been perfect and is staying for now. I have to go now, but I just I want to finish this with three more thoughts:
--I wish I hadn't been sick this weekend
--I've applied to 13 different rooms in the past 3 days and finally heard back from 3
--I'm iffy about the new girl moving in because I see a hard edge the others don't
--I'm going to miss A but I'm damn proud of her for going on her adventures
--I know JH will be moving out in 2 months when her best friend from college moves back here.
--I'm really stressed about finding a new job and a place to live
--I hope my boyfriend can do something to change the mood with us because I'm over it as of now
--I miss my old roommates, I miss my old life, but I want SD to work.
--This weekend's party was one of the best I've ever been to.
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