Friday, November 12, 2004

NO, He's NOT the Best

Today is the shittiest, grayest, ugliest day I've seen in a long time, but I don't particularly mind. I think it's pretty much perfect. Most of the time, it doesn't bother me when the weather's like this (in perfect Brad style, I could break into song mid-sentence: I'm only happy when it RAIIIINS), and what makes today even better is that we might get our first snow tonight. I don't care what anyone says, there's nothing more exciting than the first snow of the year.

Apparently not everyone is coping with the weather as well as me. I passed an old man with an exceptionally cool dog on the way to work today and then again when I was walking to get lunch. We were stopped at a crosswalk together when he saw me looking at his dog, so I smiled at him and said "That's gotta be the best dog in the world." To which he responded: "NO, he's not the best," and crossed against the light. I'm trying not to take it personally. Maybe I remind him of the person who SHOVED A GIANT COAT-RACK UP HIS RECTUM.

Aside from that guy, I noticed today that there are an astounding number of very friendly New Yorkers. I was waiting for Brian to deposit his check at the bank during our break, and a really shocking number of people either smiled or out-and-out said hi to me while I was just standing around. If I was in their position, I probably would have tried to avoid direct eye-contact with me. By my own admission, I was looking kind of shifty--I was standing in the rain wearing my Unabomber incognito coat. The whole experience was comforting, though. Especially because one of the people to smile was a relatively cute guy. At the very least, he wasn't AARP-eligible, as per usual.

I really miss Brad today. Tonight's one of those nights I wish we could get pad-thai (and chive pancakes so I could watch him look at them with a contempt usually reserved for people who've killed your mother--or complimented your dog), watch a movie, and then drink some cheap amaretto sours at the stupid Feve. I don't get Oberlin nostalgic very often, considering I spent four whole years there, but today I really miss the feel of the place; by the end of this past summer, it was like the entire town was my living room. Alas, Brad is five-hundred miles away, and it looks like I've got some quality time to spend with HBO this evening (especially because Kai has a date with Interpol, that bitch, even though I actually hope it's an excellent show and she has a really good time).

Christ, how slow can the day go? How is it not four-thirty? H-O-W, I ask?

News from the homefront: my mother does not have Paget's disease. After Kai and I each did some research and found that the condition she is already undergoing surgery for (on Monday; cross everything y'all can cross) would produce the same blood irregularities as Paget's, we told her to get a second opinion from one of her other doctors. She did, and he promptly called her back and said that, as Kai and I suspected, the original doctor was an asshole. In fact, doctor numero dos payed a visit to doctor numero uno, and apparently chewed him out so royally that he called my mom back to clarify, apologize, and try to cover his own ass by saying she had misunderstood him. She's already got the paperwork to transfer her records to another doctor. Amen.



1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

i would eat twenty chive pancakes if it meant i could be eating them with you right now.

2:04 PM  

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