Friday, March 28, 2003

Friday Nights Suck So Much Ass

Seriously. Looking forward to Friday night always rocks. I get up on Friday morning all excited, just 3 hours of actual work left and I am done with classes for a week! Notably I do as much homework on a weekend day as I do on a weekday, but I dont have obligations at school, I dont have to get up, etc. Well, I guess I dont do as much on Saturday or Sunday as I do the rest of the time, but I do my fair share. I guess that I do enjoy the not having to leave my apartment thing but in many ways. That, however, is really fucking sad and also not true of this weekend, where I have to go edit a Zizek paper tomorrow afternoon.

Regardless, so I roll through my class, I do a shocking amount of work for a Friday afternoon before Tim Dean's class. Then I actually have the dedication to stay at school and attend a class that I am not getting any actual credit for. I am impressed with myself. But I do actually enjoy this class, it is helpful in nailing down some things that I never can quite keep straight. Plus Tim is a fucking funny dude who always seems to have at least one remarkably scandalous story every week. This week it was about his friend actually murdering his girlfriend (his friend's girlfriend, not Tim's girlfriend, obviously) which I know in and of itself isnt funny, but the explanation of things surrounding it really were. It reminded me of Ed Norton's line in Fight Club, where, after explaining to the random woman on the random plane what he does (evaluate recalls, balancing the cost of recall versus the cost of lawsuits) he says that he cant tell her where he works, but he assures her that it is a very major car company. Tim didnt tell us who this person was (obviously a wise decision, it does not do wonders for your professional career to go about telling your students that X person murdered his girlfriend while in grad school, even though neither you nor anyone else has any actual proof) but indicated that he was a professor somewhere. Sort of this "be scared, he is out there" thing going on, which wasnt his purpose but whatever. It is however obviously scandalous. The story about Lacan biting this woman whom was a patient of his was quite funny, though he wasnt able to tell us the details surrounding the story.

Nonetheless, I roll out of Tim's class at 4:45 in the afternoon feeling as bright and sparkly as possible. Today was a perfect example, it was warm and sunny, birds were singing. Painful how perfect a lazy afternoon-evening it was. I got in my car, started it, and my CD player happened to be on Matthew Sweet's "Sick of Myself," which for those who dont know, is just a wonderful song. So my good mood elevated. I drove by a sign for a Pancake Breakfast at some church fairly near my house on Sunday and realized how great a pancake breakfast sounded. I was in a fantastic mood.

So I got home, I drove up to my house, and thought that maybe the stuff I was expecting to get would show up today. It didnt, which was still okay, it is on the way I'm sure, but that sort of slowed down my good mood. Nonetheless, I was still rocking on. So I came into my apartment, realized I was hungry, decided to check the cupboards. Normally on Friday afternoons I will stop by Sunny's on the way home for a double order of Hot Wings, but the whole lenten Fridays thing obviously throws that off. So I thought about making a tuna melt, considered it, and decided to consider other options. I came upon a half-or so wedge of parmesan that was becoming dangerously close to unusable, but, as I had just read a very interesting article in Cooking Today on risottos, I knew that this type of drying parmesan was perfect for a creamy cheesey rice. So I whipped up a batch, stirred in some half and half, shredded my parmesan, crushed up some garlic, and stirred it in. It was very tasty, the first risotto I had made since reading this article, I agreed with all the tips it suggested. They are now officially in my repetoire.

I ate my risotto wathced a repeat of last night's Daily Show and chilled for a couple minutes. About that point I started to think to myself "What shall I do tonight?" It was a really weird thought for me to have, I have gotten rid of them for the most part because the answer to such a question is really simple : um, nothing. I dont have anything to smoke, so I wont be doing that. I could go to a bar, but not only are there not any bars near my house that particularly interest me, but going to a bar by one's self only to pay more for booze, sit in chairs less comfortable than my couch, and have no control over the television doesnt sound particularly attractive. So I am not going to go out, that is obvious.

Next step in answering this odd question which I have posed to myself. What am I going to do in my apartment? Well, Friday night television is for the most part god-awful, but the NCAA tournament alters that. So I have entertainment, if the games get boring I can always watch a movie (I got both Seven Samurai and Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex... from Netflix the other day) or play some GTA3. All of these activites would be much better if I could get high, but obviously I am simply helpless in that regard. I can drink, I have several types of booze and some beer and shit. I suppose I could go get a bottle of wine or some other thing to drink if I preferred as well. So intoxication will not be a problem.

Nonetheless, the whole bright smiley attitude started to crash down pretty quickly as I realized that this really wasnt anything special besides a weeknight where I dont have to get up early the next morning. A very very depressing thought when one has been buzzing about the possibilities of the evening all day. I miss hanging out with people, I miss my friends, I miss knowing that one way or the other I would end up with friends on a couch somewhere, either with Katie at her apartment, or Andy J's basement or whatever. There is just nothing to get excited about alone out here. I am very immensely happy that Katie will be here at some point, nothing like a good end to continual weekend loneliness. Regardless, back to the tournament and maybe to get some beer or something.

Peace,

MB-K

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