2003-06-23 - 9:25 a.m.
Alright, round two of this diaryland entry, since everything yesterday was deleted by a cat paw. Maybe I'll be more coherent today than last night, anyway.
Saturday morning, Jon, Cles, and two of Jon's friends plus one of the friend's 6 year old daughter all helped me move the harp case. Visiting that old house on Papaya St made me realize how happy I am to be out of there. The entire house still has a negative energy. I was going through a period of being off balance when I moved in; I'm just now starting to realize just how off balance I was now that my life is shifting back to a proper path.
It took about 3 minutes to load the harp case into the truck, exactly the length of time I was talking to the current resident of the house, about 4 minutes to unload it and bring it up the stairs to my apartment once we got there, and then about 40 minutes getting it into a bedroom. They just HAD to put it in a bedroom. I told them I really didn't mind if this gigantic case was out in the living room; I could call it modern art. But they insisted. I stood back and watched. I don't know if it was that no one wanted to be the first one to admit defeat by a harp case; if it was a guy thing and in some way their manhood was proved by fitting a harp case through a small doorway; if it was a challange none of them wanted to back down from; if they just genuinely enjoyed problem solving; or some other reason I hadn't thought of. In any case, they took off the door to a hallway closet, unscrewed the the bedroom door and took it off its hinges, unscrewed a bolt inside the harp case so that it would open wider, and all of these things together helped to force it in. There are shards of wood, paint, and plaster from the walls and doors of this apartment all over the floor still, but by God, the harp case is in the bedroom! In fact, it's behind me, looming over me right now. What an unweildly piece of equipment. Why didn't I just stick with the flute. I took them all out to Chili's for lunch as a thank you.
Saturday night was Josh's party. I ran 2 miles right after work, so I was a little late. There were quite a few people there, including many people I didn't know. I brought over the funnest game in the world, Loaded Questions, which in my mind is one of the best party games out there. I met Josh's sister and her husband, and they both are really cool people. By the time the game was over I was feeling pretty buzzed. We tried to steal a golf cart, but were put off by the fact that you need a key. Later on, I followed Marty and Cles out there who insisted they could hot wire it, but all they did was sit in the golf cart and stare at the little dashboard. I took pictures of them posing by the SLOW children at play sign we always make fun of. I made a $5 bet with Josh that Sean would sleep with this chick Angela in a week or less, and I feel kind of like an ass now for making it. I told Sean about the bet thinking it might make him try harder, but later he told me the bet just ruined his game completely. In his words, "Your ill-placed faith in me is... ill-placed." The last thing I remember is picking up a card playing Kings and laughing at Josh's Sean Connery accent, and the very next thing I'm waking up on a couch with some guy whos name I couldn't remember. In case some random diaryland reader just happens to be reading this, for the sake of not losing the respect of this nameless and faceless person I will never meet, let me just say that I NEVER wake up to someone I don't know, and in this case we were both fully clothed and there were other people around us, sleeping in chairs and such, and the fact this guy happened to be on the couch with me and we both happened to be sleeping on it in no way makes it sexual. I asked him what his name was and he thought this was very funny, and told me, but I immediately forgot it again. Sean, Marty, and Cles were still there when I woke up, but that's it. Not even Josh was there. What kind of dude leaves his own party? Sean kept telling me that maybe I should go to my van. I thought he was just sick of seeing my face and was wanting me to go home. But when Cles, this random dude, and I went out to go to see my van, we found that the entire thing was saran wrapped with a banana stuck in the exhaust pipe! To complete the picture, there was some dude standing outside his apartment laughing hysterically at the sight of us, all hung over and blinking at the sunlight, staring in disbelief at my saran wrapped van. With a banana in the exhaust pipe. There was some message written on the peel, do you know you're missing? or something like this. A reference to this Have You Seen Me? missing child card that everyone gets in the mail around here, with a picture of a missing child and a picture of the person they were last seen with. Josh superimposed a picture of me, taken when I was drunk at his last party, as a missing child, and a crazy picture of Sean as the person I was last seen with, and left it at work. He did a perfect job; it was hilarious. I hung it up by my computer. Cles drove home, and this random guy whose name I still couldn't remember helped me cut my van out with some steak knives. He ate the banana. I drove him back on post and we talked about how I couldn't remember his name this morning and how funny that was, and all the while I was thinking how I still couldn't remember and how I could avoid telling him that. He said that he kept wanting to call me Sara, and I said that's fine if I could call him Larry. So this random guy's name is Larry. I really will call him that if I ever see him again.
Since I was on post, I went over to Jon's room to see if he wanted to go to breakfast at Mally's. We went, and we saw Dina and her husband Matt there. Jon said I must know a lot of people since the last time we went out to eat together, I saw Bailey, Collins, and their wives at that restaurant. I pretended he was right, that I was incredibly popular and couldn't help but to go to a restaurant and see people I knew, instead of the reality of the strange coincidence.
I like Jon. He's easy to be around. Probably just as well he wasn't at the party last night. I tactfully chose not to tell him about waking up next to Larry.
I feel like there were more things I made note of in last night's entry of these events, but they're lost to my memory now, all because of a cat paw. I could have killed Jasmine last night, but when I laid down to go to sleep, she came up and started purring and batting my face so I would let her under the covers, and of course my heart melted and I forgave her immediately.
Tomorrow my mom and Aunt Mary will be here! The trip to Savannah will be so much fun. I should start cleaning the apartment since I am expecting guests.
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