Monday, February 07, 2005

A Series of Inexplicable Events, or Everything Tastes Like Soap

This weekend has been decidedly bizarre, at least from my POV. When, or rather if, you read this, you'll probably sit there dumbfounded at what struck me dumbfounded. And so we proceed.

Chapter One. Friday. A very short chapter, in which editorgirl waits for the phone to ring. When it doesn't, she attempts to read The Tempest without falling asleep, is unsuccessful, and consequently goes to bed before 10:00. Lights out.

Chapter Two. Saturday. A slightly longer chapter, in which eg begins--again--by reading The Tempest. Is more successful, in that she finishes it. Receives phone call she had expected the night before. Now has evening plans. Is picked up sometime after 5:00 by Josh friend. Is surprised by Josh friend's sudden chivalric mood of opening doors and paying for dinner. Realizes that she is on date with Josh friend. Loses a game of name that show tune before receiving dramatic end of evening hug. Wonders when Josh friend grew up.

Chapter Three. Sunday. A chapter which was supposed to be another short chapter, but which rambling tripled its size, in which eg recalls receiving random phone call from male on Tuesday. Remembers male asked if she still plays Speed Scrabble on Sundays and if she would be playing Sunday night. As it is now Sunday, eg decides that she will play Speed Scrabble and leaves message for aforementioned male. Aforementioned male does not receive message as he is at a superbowl party, but calls eg to find out if Speed Scrabble is being played. She informs aforementioned male that she will be playing with an assortment of individuals at nine o'clock. Aforementioned male agrees to come. Speed Scrabble game begins at ten to nine; male comes around nine twenty. Male plays Speed Scrabble, eats dessert, and leaves, without much fanfare. Eg is confused. Eg is used to being confused, but can usually find farfetched explaination. There is no explanation, hence the title inexplicable events.

Eg will now return you to your regularly scheduled programming and the use of first person. Good night.

4 comments:

Kristen said...

Oh. I wanted to play speed scrabble. I always want to play speed scrabble and HMP thinks it's too nerdy or something. Or maybe that was his brother who thought it was too nerdy.

Second thought: Wow, so many men! Your mother must be thrilled. (kidding) I didn't know about Josh friend, but sounds promising. If by promising I actually mean you'll probably get more free food. Well, here's hoping.

editorgirl said...

This post wasn't so much a "please explain the situation" as a "I need to write this down so I'll stop thinking about it." And I don't think Josh is interested--we've been friends for a while. He's just nice. As for AM, it was just bizarre. Hence the post.

P.S. Speed Scrabble is nerdy. But it's fun. If HMP won't play, Miss K, we'll have to bust out the tiles some time. And HMP, if you're undatable, you're doing a dreadful job.

Kristen said...

at least you should be undatable? or buying me dinner? I vote dinner.

editorgirl said...

Hmm. After much thought and contemplation (about five minutes worth), I've decided to offer up a substitute anecdote for Sunday, in order to off set this unintended theme of male visitors.

The Sunday before this one, one of my roommates had made breakfast for her sister and the other roommates. This breakfast was excellent and included bacon. The bacon pan remained unwashed during the week, mostly due to the fact that none of us were willing to risk our olfactory sensibilities in order to help the original cooking roommate. But on Sunday a very nice Italian was making dinner for us and somehow the pan was exposed, overpowering the horseradish Gionathan was using with the rancid, hardened bacon grease. I finally took it upon myself to clean the stupid thing. I attacked it with SOS pads and then a few helpings of apple scented dish soap, after which I asked Emily to smell it--I couldn't, but I wanted to make sure. She sniffed and said, "I don't know. What do you think?" So, holding the pan, I directed it towards my nose. Unfortunately, I didn't stop my hand in time and now have a rather sore spot between my eyes. The end. Fin. Etc.

 

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