Much, much later: Still no Internet of my own, but borrowing my roommate's computer. I told the folks on AfterElton that my Internet was out, but they could feel free to call me. Obviously I didn't mean R. from Austria or my Canadian buddies. I gave my phone number to A. from Green Bay, and he actually called. It was good to talk to a grown-up. Later, Jordan called. When I was about to drive to Bryn Mawr, my secret love child S. called. It was around 11:30 p.m., and he asked if I was awake. "Of course," I said.
S. said he couldn't go to Longwood Gardens with me tomorrow, but my roomie and I will probably go. I just want to get out somewhere when it's supposed to be so nice out.
The full version:
St. Patrick’s Day 2011 LJ entry
As reported, no Internet connection all day. Ali’s unsecured network seems to have disappeared. R. and I rescued our laundry. At least mine had dried that time around. Aside from my “I smile because you’ve all finally driven me insane” T-shirt getting bleach stains, there were no other casualties.
We went grocery shopping, and R., while slow, wasn’t that bad. We both were tired and cranky when we got home, though. R. and I put the groceries away, then we went off to lie down. I think R. was getting weepy again, too. I felt weepy, but it was mostly from that affliction that my baby brother doesn’t get sympathy pains for. I love that Kris and I (but mostly Kris) came up with a new way to refer to that. I had woken up with a nasty headache, too.
I started my day with Advil, then took Extra-Strength Tylenol a couple of hours later, and alternated like that for about the first eight hours of my day. I had the were-bobcat issues, but with bloating instead of shape-changing. And without the “No. No! NO! BAD KITTY!” either. That line of Lisabea’s always makes me laugh.
So I had a little self-pity party for about half an hour. I lay on my bed, wishing I had a grown-up to talk to, jonesing for the Internet, and feeling sorry for myself about having a roommate who’d been crying for three days straight and hadn’t bathed in a few days either. Then I got up, took the clean dishes from the dishwasher and put them away, fixed myself a sandwich, did some editing work and took more Advil. I felt a lot better after that.
I went on R.’s computer several times in the afternoon. I put my status message on AfterElton as “My Internet is out, but feel free to call me.” The only person I sent my phone number to was A. from Wisconsin, and he actually called in the evening. We had a good conversation. He went off into technology geekage, and about all different kinds of music. I thought that he and Dad would have a lot to talk about, except that Dad would probably be afraid that A. would make a pass at him. As if. Dad was afraid of that when he was forty and I brought my college friends home with me. T. snorted and said, “Don’t flatter yourself!” then.
I wasn’t actually going to give my number to R. from Austria, or my buddies from Canada. I suppose I could have given my number to J. from Buffalo, but I didn’t think of that.
I gave my number to Jordan, and she called. We discussed the schedules for the next couple of paperbacks to come out. That was a work-related conversation, though we touched on other topics as well.
M. had come over late, dropped off by C., his and R.’s social worker. He fixed dinner. J. had been there for a couple of hours waiting for dinner. We had corned beef and roasted red potatoes with rosemary.
We had just gotten in the car so I could run M. back to his apartment when my phone rang. It was my secret love child. “Are you still awake?” S. asked.
“Of course,” I said. It was only 11:30 p.m. I hope I didn’t sound too much like I thought it was a ridiculous question. “I was just about to drive to Bryn Mawr.”
S. said he couldn’t make it to Longwood Gardens Friday, but that next weekend was wide open for him. I’ll bet. “You can come see the apartment, then we can put you on the train to the city so you can go to the bars and get in trouble,” I said brightly. M. laughed from the back seat. When I thought about it, I was totally shocked that S. had called, but I had sent him a message that I didn’t have much Internet access and would like for him to get back to me that day about going to Longwood Gardens the next day.
We dropped M. off and headed home. No more weeping for the day before R. took her meds and went to bed. Of course, I was right there with her, even in her room to get a last few minutes on the computer in before she was ready to go to bed. I did sincerely thank her for letting me use her computer all day. She doesn’t seem to mind, but likes the company, having someone around, even in her room. I think I feel like a very safe person to her.
Well, the day didn’t start off too promising, but I got to talk to grown-ups in the evening, and my secret love child, who’s more grown up than most twenty-one-year-old young men. Towards the end of the day it was pretty good.