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Too Much Pasta

So, I had some left over KD for supper, and then one of my hosts made me spaghetti. Practical way to approach this situation: since I ate tomorrow’s lunch for supper, have today’s supper for lunch tomorrow. Jez’s approach to this situation: eat both. Double ugh.

So, today, the internet finally returned to my once-empty life. The hand tremors have stopped. I emptied my email account. The world finally righted itself. And when I had serious doubts about all that happened last Saturday, there it was: an email from Skullet Man that he must have written after the bar. Spelling mistakes aside (which occur whether intoxicated or not), he wrote that everything he said was true (and not the effect of too much beer), he realizes that it wasn’t fair he said those things when he was available and I wasn’t (damn right, you bastard), and he hopes this doesn’t screw up our friendship. I guess not, since I phoned him last week.

I phoned his cell phone while he was at work to make sure he didn’t feel rotten. I planned to leave a quick message saying that I wasn’t mad or avoiding him, but I have been without internet for two weeks and I would email him once I got “connected” again. Damn bastard keeps his phone on at work. So, I had to talk to him. I talked about the female mullets here and the beautiful scenery, and he talked about the days that he was a food truck driver and he would visit this reserve and sell quality frozen food in the mall parking lot. Pleasant conversation overall. I don’t know if I’ll be able to go drinking at his place anytime soon.

Saturday, I talked to Skinner Boy. He tried to tell me that he loved me. I told him that don’t you dare!
I think I have made incredible progress in admitting that he is my boyfriend, not “my guy”, or “the guy I talk to”, or “the guy I watch movies with”. My boyfriend. No more monkey wrenches! So, he was content with saying “I care for you deeply”. Bloody hell. My feelings for him (or, apparently, the lack of undying love) are another story altogether.

Sunday, this hypocritical vegetarian went fishing. And got damn burnt. Serves me right. Not just “tomato red”, nor “fire truck red”, but “extra-tasty-crispy”. What is even worse is that it’s not even. I know it’s rarely even, but I sat in the exact some position in the boat all day. Half of my face burnt. Now, it looks like I could be the arch villain in the next Batman movie, or if they ever decided to resuscitate Dick Tracy. And, unfortunately, that is not an over-exaggeration. So, I apply my now not-quite-right ultra pale face powder on half of my face, which mellows it out just enough so I don’t make little children cry.

And I am incredibly sore from the burns. And this reserve does not appear to sell tweezers, so my eyebrows are starting to contribute to the “scariness” known as The Student Teacher.

Oh well, the last week is full steam ahead. And it’s not stressful, or anything. It’s just I’m ready to come home. I want to collect my student loan and pay bills. I want to finally unpack. I want to get my internet fixed.