blather blather contact high blather
Nov. 12th, 2006 08:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
enteleinLast weekend, my friend Ian saved me from madness brought on by end-of-week job fatigue by calling and leaving a voicemail on my phone, asking if I wanted to go have dinner. As it turned out, I couldn't, since I had a grocery delivery scheduled between 7 and 9 PM at my apartment, but I called him back anyway, offering to make him dinner if he wanted to come over.
Which he did.
Unsure if I had ordered shredded mozz cheese in my grocery shipment, I asked him to stop by somewhere and pick some up. He more than fulfilled my request, showing up with some gigantic re-sealable bag of it, and two loaves of bread, some of which I stuck in a toaster with some spinach stuff on top, as an appetizer. The grocery delivery arrived, with its own complement of cheese, and so I suddenly had more cheese than I knew what to do with. I made jokes about having cheese parties, and coating every available surface with shredded goodness. Man, there's a lot of cheese in my fridge. An overabundance of dairy product, wot wot.
I felt like I had an overabundance of joy, too, at having a spontaneous little dinner with a good friend like that, for a Friday night. I made eggplant parmesan, and we talked each others' ears off, and he peeled cloves of garlic for me, and I crossed back and forth from stove to countertop, adding stewed tomatoes to the sauce, slices of breaded eggplant to the pinging hot olive oil in the skillet.
We played some video games, and talked some more, and I admired his awesome hair and told him he was very tall, which is something I feel compelled to tell him every time I see him. We also did our usual vaudeville act of saying to one another, "We need to hang out more often!" and then, self-deprecatingly, "But we always suck at that, and it's six months before we hang out or call each other again." *hangdog expression*
It felt nice to be caught up in a wave of Ian's self-confidence, by having a spontaneous dinner like this - he's been having fun letting go of some of his fears by cutting back on apologies (to himself, to others, for his own behavior, his own feelings). He snagged the number of some boy the other weekend, and I hope he's called him by now, and I hope the boy has realized what dumby he'd be to turn down such a handsome Ian as this.
+++
Today Sam called, and asked if I'd like to accompany him and his girlfriend Michelle to IKEA, to do a bit of shopping/hanging out. He even offered to come and get me, so I told him I needed only 30 minutes to hop into the shower, hop into clothes, and clutch my change purse in anticipation of cheap DIY furnishings, pear soda, and Lingonberry-scented everything.
I got to see Sam's little house, which is surprisingly full of light, and, I felt, a lot of peace. There's a nice backyard, and as we arrived, Michelle was just finishing up raking the leaves of a huge old tree, mashing them into bins to take out to the alleyway. It felt very homey. It's always interesting to see how home ownership changes the timbre of someone's outlook on life. No longer paying rent on an apartment can be a huge relief for a person. Sure, you're exchanging that for a mortgage, but it's an investment, rather than a stay.
Apparently there are two IKEAs in the Chicago area now, and so we went to the one I haven't been to before. This one's only two levels, instead of three, and I am not sure I appreciate the layout as much, as a result. It felt like a somewhat claustrophobic maze at times - still massive, but structured in a way that practically forced you to run the entire gamut of their product line. At one point we shopped up to the last row of skids before the checkout lines, and realized that we were ready for a little bit of dinner up in the cafe. So, we headed back to where we knew the elevator was, but it was a long hike, with practically no shortcuts. I suspect we walked a couple of miles in the couple hours we were there.
I had Swedish meatballs with potatoes, and a berry soda, with a chocolate mousse for dessert. It felt good to be out and about in the world, among people I knew and cared about. By the time they dropped me at my apartment, I felt sated for company, but also hoping that this wouldn't be a small blip of color in what's felt like an otherwise very grey palette. This past week was filled with a few disappointments, and I am still cranky enough over them to feel suspicious of things looking up. But, I have pear soda and orange soda, and crispy oatmeal chocolate cookies and more magazine holders, and a soft blanket/throw to put over my legs when I sit in my living room, and Sam is talking about helping me finally get a door put on my closet (nearly 4 years after going to purchase the damned thing with my mom).
Sam's such a great friend. I am not sure what I would've done without him all this time. He's been so awesome about encouraging the things that will make me the strongest. He's also wicked funny. I gave him and Michelle some roasted pumpkin seeds, and some pumpkin soup I made yesterday. I hope they enjoy 'em. It feels like weak payment for the nice time I had today, just being around them.
Which he did.
Unsure if I had ordered shredded mozz cheese in my grocery shipment, I asked him to stop by somewhere and pick some up. He more than fulfilled my request, showing up with some gigantic re-sealable bag of it, and two loaves of bread, some of which I stuck in a toaster with some spinach stuff on top, as an appetizer. The grocery delivery arrived, with its own complement of cheese, and so I suddenly had more cheese than I knew what to do with. I made jokes about having cheese parties, and coating every available surface with shredded goodness. Man, there's a lot of cheese in my fridge. An overabundance of dairy product, wot wot.
I felt like I had an overabundance of joy, too, at having a spontaneous little dinner with a good friend like that, for a Friday night. I made eggplant parmesan, and we talked each others' ears off, and he peeled cloves of garlic for me, and I crossed back and forth from stove to countertop, adding stewed tomatoes to the sauce, slices of breaded eggplant to the pinging hot olive oil in the skillet.
We played some video games, and talked some more, and I admired his awesome hair and told him he was very tall, which is something I feel compelled to tell him every time I see him. We also did our usual vaudeville act of saying to one another, "We need to hang out more often!" and then, self-deprecatingly, "But we always suck at that, and it's six months before we hang out or call each other again." *hangdog expression*
It felt nice to be caught up in a wave of Ian's self-confidence, by having a spontaneous dinner like this - he's been having fun letting go of some of his fears by cutting back on apologies (to himself, to others, for his own behavior, his own feelings). He snagged the number of some boy the other weekend, and I hope he's called him by now, and I hope the boy has realized what dumby he'd be to turn down such a handsome Ian as this.
+++
Today Sam called, and asked if I'd like to accompany him and his girlfriend Michelle to IKEA, to do a bit of shopping/hanging out. He even offered to come and get me, so I told him I needed only 30 minutes to hop into the shower, hop into clothes, and clutch my change purse in anticipation of cheap DIY furnishings, pear soda, and Lingonberry-scented everything.
I got to see Sam's little house, which is surprisingly full of light, and, I felt, a lot of peace. There's a nice backyard, and as we arrived, Michelle was just finishing up raking the leaves of a huge old tree, mashing them into bins to take out to the alleyway. It felt very homey. It's always interesting to see how home ownership changes the timbre of someone's outlook on life. No longer paying rent on an apartment can be a huge relief for a person. Sure, you're exchanging that for a mortgage, but it's an investment, rather than a stay.
Apparently there are two IKEAs in the Chicago area now, and so we went to the one I haven't been to before. This one's only two levels, instead of three, and I am not sure I appreciate the layout as much, as a result. It felt like a somewhat claustrophobic maze at times - still massive, but structured in a way that practically forced you to run the entire gamut of their product line. At one point we shopped up to the last row of skids before the checkout lines, and realized that we were ready for a little bit of dinner up in the cafe. So, we headed back to where we knew the elevator was, but it was a long hike, with practically no shortcuts. I suspect we walked a couple of miles in the couple hours we were there.
I had Swedish meatballs with potatoes, and a berry soda, with a chocolate mousse for dessert. It felt good to be out and about in the world, among people I knew and cared about. By the time they dropped me at my apartment, I felt sated for company, but also hoping that this wouldn't be a small blip of color in what's felt like an otherwise very grey palette. This past week was filled with a few disappointments, and I am still cranky enough over them to feel suspicious of things looking up. But, I have pear soda and orange soda, and crispy oatmeal chocolate cookies and more magazine holders, and a soft blanket/throw to put over my legs when I sit in my living room, and Sam is talking about helping me finally get a door put on my closet (nearly 4 years after going to purchase the damned thing with my mom).
Sam's such a great friend. I am not sure what I would've done without him all this time. He's been so awesome about encouraging the things that will make me the strongest. He's also wicked funny. I gave him and Michelle some roasted pumpkin seeds, and some pumpkin soup I made yesterday. I hope they enjoy 'em. It feels like weak payment for the nice time I had today, just being around them.
