Mid-Day Wednesday / All-Day Saturday
My favorite thing about the middle of Wednesday is how it is also the precise middle of my week. Just when I need encouragement the most, I get the dual-goal of completing my longest and most grueling day AND pushing through to the end of the week. Huzzah! Let's move upward and out of this week, leaving only a week and a half until Thanksgiving.
This week has been interesting for my sleep patterns. Sunday and Monday night, I failed to get my 7 hours, and so I required a nap on Monday and Tuesday afternoon. Monday, I attempted to nap on the LabSci quad, but the wind picked up and I got too cold, so I hunted for some sort of padded furniture. I found a forgotten chair in the basement of Eads, twisted and rolled until I found a measurable comfort, and slept for an hour and a half. I though I had set my phone, but did not do so; it was by grace alone that I woke up 12 minutes before my 2 o'clock class. Do you think my professors appreciate that I've only missed one lecture in anything this semester?
Me neither.
Then, yesterday, I decided the time and weather were ripe for tree-climbing. I climbed the same tree that Bridget and I thoroughly explored a few weeks back, read my Fiction Writing homework, and got an opening paragraph on my next story for the same class. I then stretched myself out on the branch and closed my eyes. If not for a phone call from my mother, I would have fallen asleep, which would have been interesting. Anyone ever fallen asleep in a tree? If so, did you fall out?
So, because theme week is kind of a moot point until the missing half of the suite returns, the temporary replacement will be pictures and descriptions of places to fall asleep. Maybe Alfonzo will help me, but I doubt it. Honestly, he's kinda lost it. I'm pretty sure he didn't take any midterms, and he may not even be officially enrolled anymore. And the whole, you know, Kansas thing....
So Saturday
We roused ourselves early enough to get Center Court brunch--a staple in my life last year, now just an occasional cap on nights of extravagance--then went to City Museum. I won't bore you with the details of the visit, because City Museum is a cursed place; it's nearly impossible to do it justice with words, and pictures hardly do the trick. You just have to go. That's the long and short of it. Unless you are fairly overweight, have severe joint problems, are afraid of heights or extremely claustrophobic, you have no excuse for not having gone already. We managed to have a good time, and I don't think anybody got tetanus, though Carl may have caught the clap. You know what they say about Missouri: "There's so much clap it's like a standing ovation".
I couldn't lay hands on tickets to Bauhaus, so we didn't go. We grabbed Carl's guitar and met up with his old friend, Don. I finally got to experience a live Carl and Don performance (sorry, guys, but "Invite Everyone You Know" was of seriously dubious sound quality). The two of them jammed for a few hours, and then we had to leave and hunt for Carl's keys, which he had lost sometime after the CAKE concert. We found them, thank god, in the crack of my armchair.
It may seem natural, to you, that we were all concerned about finding Carl's keys. Given that Carl and Katherine planned to leave Sunday morning in Carl's car, I can understand why one might worry. However, I should make it clear that I was concerned only with the fact that the stuff from Old Navy was locked in the trunk. As it happens, there isn't a very good Old Navy up here, so I much preferred the things Carl brought from Old Navy. (As a side note, apparently one of Carl's things from Old Navy broke recently. The Queen is dead, and she will be missed; she was my favorite one of Carl's fleece jackets from Old Navy).
Then a very strange meeting occurred. Returning from his journalism conference in Kansas City, Brody caught wind of some Old Navy and asked to be included. Carl obliged, and we drove around St. Louis with Brody riding shotgun.
It was certainly a strange feeling, having Brody there amongst such familiar characters. That he rode shotgun only made things stranger; I felt that people who knew Brody better would have taken measures to prevent that.
Don't get me wrong. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary occurred. Everyone in the car had a healthy aversion to Brody by the end of the night, but there was a distinct element of existential fatigue in that aversion. It was as though Brody challenged the fidelity of our reality.
Dropping Brody back at Dauten, Carl and Bridget asked me why we allowed him to come along. I reminded them that we had been to Old Navy for a while before we even came across him, and they understood.
Still, I don't see any Brody/Carl and Bridget reunions happening when we're all home in Atlanta. Besides, he lives way the fuck out in Sandy Springs. Who could possibly like him enough to drive all that way?
One more post on this topic, and then I'm free!
-Alan
This week has been interesting for my sleep patterns. Sunday and Monday night, I failed to get my 7 hours, and so I required a nap on Monday and Tuesday afternoon. Monday, I attempted to nap on the LabSci quad, but the wind picked up and I got too cold, so I hunted for some sort of padded furniture. I found a forgotten chair in the basement of Eads, twisted and rolled until I found a measurable comfort, and slept for an hour and a half. I though I had set my phone, but did not do so; it was by grace alone that I woke up 12 minutes before my 2 o'clock class. Do you think my professors appreciate that I've only missed one lecture in anything this semester?
Me neither.
Then, yesterday, I decided the time and weather were ripe for tree-climbing. I climbed the same tree that Bridget and I thoroughly explored a few weeks back, read my Fiction Writing homework, and got an opening paragraph on my next story for the same class. I then stretched myself out on the branch and closed my eyes. If not for a phone call from my mother, I would have fallen asleep, which would have been interesting. Anyone ever fallen asleep in a tree? If so, did you fall out?
So, because theme week is kind of a moot point until the missing half of the suite returns, the temporary replacement will be pictures and descriptions of places to fall asleep. Maybe Alfonzo will help me, but I doubt it. Honestly, he's kinda lost it. I'm pretty sure he didn't take any midterms, and he may not even be officially enrolled anymore. And the whole, you know, Kansas thing....
So Saturday
We roused ourselves early enough to get Center Court brunch--a staple in my life last year, now just an occasional cap on nights of extravagance--then went to City Museum. I won't bore you with the details of the visit, because City Museum is a cursed place; it's nearly impossible to do it justice with words, and pictures hardly do the trick. You just have to go. That's the long and short of it. Unless you are fairly overweight, have severe joint problems, are afraid of heights or extremely claustrophobic, you have no excuse for not having gone already. We managed to have a good time, and I don't think anybody got tetanus, though Carl may have caught the clap. You know what they say about Missouri: "There's so much clap it's like a standing ovation".
I couldn't lay hands on tickets to Bauhaus, so we didn't go. We grabbed Carl's guitar and met up with his old friend, Don. I finally got to experience a live Carl and Don performance (sorry, guys, but "Invite Everyone You Know" was of seriously dubious sound quality). The two of them jammed for a few hours, and then we had to leave and hunt for Carl's keys, which he had lost sometime after the CAKE concert. We found them, thank god, in the crack of my armchair.
It may seem natural, to you, that we were all concerned about finding Carl's keys. Given that Carl and Katherine planned to leave Sunday morning in Carl's car, I can understand why one might worry. However, I should make it clear that I was concerned only with the fact that the stuff from Old Navy was locked in the trunk. As it happens, there isn't a very good Old Navy up here, so I much preferred the things Carl brought from Old Navy. (As a side note, apparently one of Carl's things from Old Navy broke recently. The Queen is dead, and she will be missed; she was my favorite one of Carl's fleece jackets from Old Navy).
Then a very strange meeting occurred. Returning from his journalism conference in Kansas City, Brody caught wind of some Old Navy and asked to be included. Carl obliged, and we drove around St. Louis with Brody riding shotgun.
It was certainly a strange feeling, having Brody there amongst such familiar characters. That he rode shotgun only made things stranger; I felt that people who knew Brody better would have taken measures to prevent that.
Don't get me wrong. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary occurred. Everyone in the car had a healthy aversion to Brody by the end of the night, but there was a distinct element of existential fatigue in that aversion. It was as though Brody challenged the fidelity of our reality.
Dropping Brody back at Dauten, Carl and Bridget asked me why we allowed him to come along. I reminded them that we had been to Old Navy for a while before we even came across him, and they understood.
Still, I don't see any Brody/Carl and Bridget reunions happening when we're all home in Atlanta. Besides, he lives way the fuck out in Sandy Springs. Who could possibly like him enough to drive all that way?
One more post on this topic, and then I'm free!
-Alan
posted by Alan Orlanski at 1:51 PM
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