Girls Night

Look, a 3rd post in a month! I really am living up to my resolution! How've you been lately? I do want to know, tell me in the comments.

My girl friends and I used to go out for dinner and then come back to one of our houses to watch a cheesy  movie every Wednesday. We stopped early last year because they were all starting at (or returning to) University, so we didn't really have time anymore.

Well, tonight, we tried again. It's our first girls night without Rebecca (my best friend). She left us to go study in England for this year. We've been out for dinner, and we're just taking a 'facebook break' (they can't go this long without telling people what they're doing) so I decided to update you guys on my current situation. I told them I was doing this, and now I've got money on the fact that I can finish writing this before they're done.

We went to the restaurant I used to work at. It was awkward, because I recognised the other people working there, and had a chat with our waitress (who is joining us for our movie in about 10 minutes). On the plus side, we got a better table than they had planned for us, because when the guy who was cleaning off tables saw it was me, he went and cleared off my 'favourite' table (I used to roster myself so I got to serve it because it meant I got to look at the beautiful view out the window) with the window over looking the lake. 

After dinner, we just sort of decided to walk around the lake (two of my 3 friends were edging the line between tipsy and drunk). I saw a big tree and decided that I would be able to get the best photo ever if I climbed up (remember that I was not drunk. I'm just impulsive). I threw my shoes off and proceeded to clamber up the tree bare foot.

I got to the very top part of the tree and took one hand off the branch to take my photo. This threw my balance and I toppled out of the tree. I managed to grab at a few branches on the way down to slow my fall, but I still hit the ground hard. One of my friends had the sense to call an ambulance as I was falling. The other 2 just screamed and ran to me. 

Anyway, I spent the next 2 hours in the hospital. I twisted my ankle, but the rest of the time was spent getting the splinters out of my hands and feet. Since they had to use an Anesthetic, I can't pick things up and I can't walk. I had to be carried out to the car by two nurses (who my drunk friends tried to hit on. They were men), and my friends carried my into Sarah's house (Sarah is the one who called the ambulance). Now I have to stay here the night. At least I fed my cat before I left.

Update: Here's the photo:

Yes, I actually managed to snap a picture as I was falling.

I'm dying.

I've been trying to write a new post for a while, but I've had writers block. So now I'm sick, and I can finally think. So I'm writing now and maybe something will come to me.

I think I have the flu. I can't be sure, because I've seen a couple of different doctors, and they're saying different things. Anyway, the point is, I've been home since Thursday with dying. This is what I look like:

It's not an good picture, but it shows my pants, and that's the important part. Those are my sick pants, because they have owls on them and that makes me smile. They're also really warm. That is a rubber ducky dressing gown. Shakespeare bought it for me for my birthday. When he gave it to me, guess what I said. 'Thats a ducking good bathrobe' and Shakespeare just chuckled because it was my birthday and he had to laugh at my bad joke.

So, Shakespeare has been looking after me, but he had work today, so I'm lonely and I need social interaction. So I'm going to go out and buy a game (preferably AC: Brotherhood). I could buy it online, but I need to talk to someone, and the store clerk has to. I'm not contagious any more, don't worry. Maybe I'll buy some hot chocolate and ice cream.

I'm okay with being sick though, because it means that I get to watch hours and hours of doctor who until Shakespeare gets home. Then I'm going for a walk. Maybe I'll take some pictures.

Update: Okay, so Shakespeare came over in his lunch break. I was sitting on the couch watching The Eleventh Hour (Doctor Who). He walked in and told me I needed to go to bed, because the lounge was really cold. I didn't want to, because my episode had just started. So he turned off the TV, grabbed me by the arms and dragged my to my room.

I complained bitterly that I wouldn't be able to watch anymore Doctor Who, because there's no TV in my room. So he promised that he would stop by his house after work and get his baby flat screen and bring it over. But I have to wait 2 more hours. Do you not how many episodes that is?

I don't think Shakespeare's going to let me go for a walk when he gets back, or let me go out shopping. So I'm going to send him out to get it for me, because he'll know if I leave my room. I don't know how, but he will.

Another Update: Okay, so Shakespeare got back from work at 4:30, and I was crying because we were out of cold/flu medication. So he took me to the shopping 'plaza'* and said he would go by me my game while I went to the Chemist and supermarket.

When I got to the chemist, I looked around for ages and ages until I figured out that they were out of the only stuff that's been helping. This realisation caused me to break down into tears. The nice lady who worked there brought me into the back room and gave me some water. Then, when I told her why I was crying, she looked around out the stock room and found a few more boxes of the medication. I felt really silly, and I told her so. She said that it happened a lot more that you'd think, because people aren't equipped to handle disappointment when they're sick. When she put it through the register, she used her employee discount. I hugged her before I left.

Then I went to the supermarket and suddenly felt really bad for 'making' Shakespeare do all this stuff for me. It's not like we live together, so he could have just avoided me or done minimal work for me. But he's been helping me with everything. So I bought him a box of fancy chocolates that he is not to share with me under any circumstances. I also bought microwave popcorn, some ice cream and peppermint chocolate.

I went and waited by the car. Shakespeare came back eventually and looked all successful, and now I have Assassins Creed: Brotherhood, which I am just dying to play. Once he came back, we talked about what to have for dinner, and decided to go to the Chinese restaurant on the corner.

Now we're back at my house, sitting in my bed wrapped in blankets and watching Sherlock (which is the most amazing series of all time). Shakespeare says we're going to watch until we fall asleep. I asked what we'd do if we ran out of episodes. His answer? We'll just have to move on to Doctor Who, won't we?

This is why I love him.


*It's a plaza because it's like a shopping centre, but it's out side, and the shops are around the outside of the carpark. I don't know any better way to explain it. You've probably got one near you.

My day

I know that is a boring title for a blog post, but it was any better with exclamation points, so, you know, deal with it.

I had an awful day today. Some good things happened, some bad things happened, but the bad things happened far more consistently than the good things. I'm going to tell you about it, whether you want to listen or not.

To start with, I broke my alarm clock. I set my alarm with an irritating song guaranteed to get me up, just to make it stop. This week, that song was Friday, by Rebecca Black (if you haven't heard it yet, I beg you not to listen to it. Save yourself). Usually, it gets me out of bed, but today I didn't want to get up, so I did what any sane person would do. I threw my phone at it. Now, my phone was alright (thankfully, Nokia haven't changed their design too much over the years), but the alarm clock smashed into the wall and landed on the floor in pieces. I tried to fix it before I realised that my $10 Target clock wasn't worth being late to work, and made myself go get dressed, promising myself that I would get another on the way home from work.

I had to sprint the last 200 metres to the bus (at least it was down hill) which was already at the stop. Luckily, the bus driver knows me, and so waited for a little while for me to get there once he saw me. Because of this, in addition to paying for my ticket, I gave him $5 and thanked him repeatedly (not much, I know, but he seemed pleased that I'd given him money). I reached my seat and messed around with my bag for a while before getting my iPod out. It was flat. That probably wouldn't seem so bad, but a 1hour bus trip into the city with a bunch of suits is far more irritating when I have to listen to the men behind me talk about stocks. I had also, in my rush to get out the door, forgotten my book.

When I got into work (only slightly late) it turned out my boss had gone out for a 'power breakfast', and, because of several other important lunches and meetings, would not be coming into the office today and that, if we didn't have anything important to do, we could leave. There was a special note for me that said I was not allowed to go. A few people had already gone home (making my life hell as I told customers who came to see them that they weren't here) and by about lunchtime, the whole floor was gone.

I have taken to leaving the office at lunch. Today lunch went totally smoothly, until I was about to pay and realised that I needed that $5 that I'd given to the bus driver. I had to buy a muffin instead of a bacon, cheese and pesto toasted sandwich (which is amazing). I was disappointed, but tried to insist to myself that "that's just the way life goes". On the way back to the office, I was fishing around in my pockets looking for my phone when I found another $5 bill.

This is the point in the day where things went from 'a series of unfortunate coincidences' to 'life is just fucking with me now'.

I finished the rest of the work day relatively incident-free. I went out to buy myself a new alarm clock, just like I said I would. I walked into Target, slipped and fell on some water on the ground, and was slapped forcefully by the bag check lady who tried to catch me. After checking my face for blood in the bathroom, I went back and asked her, embarrassed, where I would find what I was looking for. She pointed me in the right direction and I set off. After making a long and hard decision about clocks and having a display fall on me, I wandered over to the check out.

It was then that I looked at my watch, and realised that I had 5 minutes to get to the bus stop several city blocks away, if I wanted to catch the last bus that went by my house. I managed to beg my way through to the front of the line, paid for my new clock and ran the distance to the bus (thank god for my track and field training in high school) and eventually reached the stop to see the bus pulling away from the curb. I followed it until the next stop (luckily the traffic was backed up) and managed to get on just before it hit the freeway.

I tried my bus ticket, only to find that, since I had been an hour longer than usual, it had expired. I scraped around in my pockets for spare change and eventually was offered some by a lady sitting close by. Once I had managed to buy a ticket, I sat down next to a man who smelled oddly of garlic. By now, I was tired, bruised and battered, but the man I was sitting next to kept trying to strike up conversation. I almost missed the boring suits who were usually on my bus. I put up with this man for about 45 minutes, but then I snapped. I screamed at him that I wasn't interested in talking to him, and I got kicked off the bus 3 stops early and had to walk the rest of the way. At least it wasn't dark.

When I finally reached my house, I put my key in the door. But, since I was angry, I acted with a bit too much force and the key broke off in the lock. I called a locksmith, and he said he would come and fix it tomorrow. So I freaked out, burst into tears, and called Shakespeare. He came by to pick me up and we caught my cat (who, luckily, was outside at the time, and perfectly willing to be caught).

Now I'm at his house drinking hot chocolate while he cooks dinner. Shakespeare is very good at putting my shitty days in perspective.

I'm posting this not for your sympathies, but so that you can laugh at my misfortune (although sympathy is good too).