I am four beers into the night, and after forty-five minutes in the gym, a long walk with the dog, and a satisfying loafing whilst The Office was on, have decided that it didn't shape up to be a bad evening after all. There has been Serious Talk lately, about the unsold house and where we will go for the holidays (Woe! I'd like to avoid IL like the plague, mostly because we always come down with it when we visit), with the occasional explosions over Tim being miserly and expressing his less than genial opinions about my sister, whom he has formally declared a disappointment. (His reasoning is somewhat selfish and completely aggravating, and it doesn't help that she knows he's pissed with her and feels awful about it. I will not go into it other than to say I am displeased with his attitude.)
Anyway, throughout the course of the night I received a phone call from my old roommate and we got on the subject of old boyfriends and men we used to date, comparing the good with the bad and laughing over things that I hadn't thought of in years.
Case in point: I once had a very outspoken and nerdy graduate student ask me out by writing me a poem, Suess-style. I wish I could say that I found it flattering, but he had been chatting me up on Cranium nights (Friday nights, complete with booze. My good friend Kevin and I were always partners and he was the worst cheater but it was great fun.) for some time by then and I was already beginning to think he was trying too hard. He was quite intelligent, though, and an excellent singer, but just this side of off and I was not interested. Sadly, I looked through the box where I thought the poem might be and it is not there. I hope Kevin didn't steal it away and laugh himself silly, but I suspect it's somewhere around here. It'll be a little treasure to come across later.
I could go on with other weird tales, but it would probably be best to save them for other entries. Besides, I should be going to bed. I've got a Friday to work through and then a weekend to slough off.