Mundane notes on the day
Jun. 1st, 2003 02:57 pmSo the new roomie has moved in. Her name's Ruth and she seems rather pleasant on the whole. It turns out she's the young lady that will be living in the apartment through next school year, not Ozzie. Not that it makes a difference to me in the long run, but some part of my brain obviously thought that was note-worthy. She's from Maine and a Brown student and she's returning from having taken some time off (for reasons unknown). I first saw her as I was waking up, making me grateful that I was wearing something not vulgar or indecent (must always make a good first impression, says Miss Manners).
Ozzie decided to make dinner last night in order to pay me back for making dinner the night before. I told her it really wasn't necessary numerous times, but she was adamant and although my social skills are severely lacking (as many people can attest to) I know there's a point where you stop insisting and just accept...so I did. Thing is, I'd had her cooking before. Jordan (quite literally) forced some of Ozzie's lentils on me when Ozzie was moving in. I didn't really enjoy them. Nor did I enjoy that I was put on-the-spot, but that's a gripe for another time.
So, I'm digressing again. Right. Dinner. Ozzie was heading down to Eastside Marketplace to buy food for dinner and I said I'd join her for the walk because I was bored and because I felt guilty that she'd have to lug back the bags by herself. And also because I wanted to go to Blockbuster, which is right next to the Marketplace.
So we're shopping, or, rather, Ozzie's shopping and I'm trailing her because I intend to go to Super Stop N' Shop during the week (double coupons...yay!) and I was getting the weirdest vibes from her. I can't explain it. Maybe it was me being hyper-sensitive to other people's reactions (I'm supposed to work on that I've been told) but I felt like she really didn't want me there. In which case she should have just been polite and said she didn't want my company when she was setting out. But whatever. I wasn't grocery-shopping so I bailed on her and told her to meet me out in front of Blockbuster, where I skeedaddled to next. Picked up three flicks (Gattaca, The Tao of Steve, and Priscilla, Queen of the Dessert, three movies I've never seen before. I'm walking on the wild side, watch out!), and a tub of jalapeno-butter popcorn (jalapenos being my weakness), met up with Ozzie and then we moseyed back.
Ozzie supplied the food for dinner but I (being the boozehound that I am...not!) supplied the firewater. I picked up some Zinfandel and a case of Sam Adams (all the subliminal messages must be seeping in from QaF and all the New England advertisements, because I've never been into Sam Adams before; it is rather good beer though, I'll give them that much), mainly because I thought Ruth and her mother would be joining us for dinner. Ozzie cooked (I helped a tad bit) and we chatted, and I (surprisingly enough) enjoyed myself. Who knew she was a fellow former comic junkie?
Dinner was potatoes and ground meat in tomato sauce (original, no; tolerable, yes) and rice. Ozzie forced the meal on a reluctant Ruth and mom and I felt bad for them, because they were trying to politely say no but Ozzie wouldn't hear of it. Otherwise the evening went very well. Perhaps it was the buzz I got from the Sam Adams (which is funny because I only had one and I had it with the very starchy rice and potato meal) but I had tons of fun. Afterwards I was exhausted (again, most likely because of the alcohol - I become either a surly drunk or a sleepy drunk, depending on my mood) and Ozzie and I ended up nixing plans to go to the midnight showing at the local theatre.
This morning was spent going to a comic sale downtown (where I paid for admission for Ozzie and myself but bought nothing) and picking out birthday presents for Dwayne.
Ha. This may be the most craptacular journal entry ever. It seemed noteworthy when I sat down but as I look back on it all I wonder why I even bothered. Oh well.
Ozzie decided to make dinner last night in order to pay me back for making dinner the night before. I told her it really wasn't necessary numerous times, but she was adamant and although my social skills are severely lacking (as many people can attest to) I know there's a point where you stop insisting and just accept...so I did. Thing is, I'd had her cooking before. Jordan (quite literally) forced some of Ozzie's lentils on me when Ozzie was moving in. I didn't really enjoy them. Nor did I enjoy that I was put on-the-spot, but that's a gripe for another time.
So, I'm digressing again. Right. Dinner. Ozzie was heading down to Eastside Marketplace to buy food for dinner and I said I'd join her for the walk because I was bored and because I felt guilty that she'd have to lug back the bags by herself. And also because I wanted to go to Blockbuster, which is right next to the Marketplace.
So we're shopping, or, rather, Ozzie's shopping and I'm trailing her because I intend to go to Super Stop N' Shop during the week (double coupons...yay!) and I was getting the weirdest vibes from her. I can't explain it. Maybe it was me being hyper-sensitive to other people's reactions (I'm supposed to work on that I've been told) but I felt like she really didn't want me there. In which case she should have just been polite and said she didn't want my company when she was setting out. But whatever. I wasn't grocery-shopping so I bailed on her and told her to meet me out in front of Blockbuster, where I skeedaddled to next. Picked up three flicks (Gattaca, The Tao of Steve, and Priscilla, Queen of the Dessert, three movies I've never seen before. I'm walking on the wild side, watch out!), and a tub of jalapeno-butter popcorn (jalapenos being my weakness), met up with Ozzie and then we moseyed back.
Ozzie supplied the food for dinner but I (being the boozehound that I am...not!) supplied the firewater. I picked up some Zinfandel and a case of Sam Adams (all the subliminal messages must be seeping in from QaF and all the New England advertisements, because I've never been into Sam Adams before; it is rather good beer though, I'll give them that much), mainly because I thought Ruth and her mother would be joining us for dinner. Ozzie cooked (I helped a tad bit) and we chatted, and I (surprisingly enough) enjoyed myself. Who knew she was a fellow former comic junkie?
Dinner was potatoes and ground meat in tomato sauce (original, no; tolerable, yes) and rice. Ozzie forced the meal on a reluctant Ruth and mom and I felt bad for them, because they were trying to politely say no but Ozzie wouldn't hear of it. Otherwise the evening went very well. Perhaps it was the buzz I got from the Sam Adams (which is funny because I only had one and I had it with the very starchy rice and potato meal) but I had tons of fun. Afterwards I was exhausted (again, most likely because of the alcohol - I become either a surly drunk or a sleepy drunk, depending on my mood) and Ozzie and I ended up nixing plans to go to the midnight showing at the local theatre.
This morning was spent going to a comic sale downtown (where I paid for admission for Ozzie and myself but bought nothing) and picking out birthday presents for Dwayne.
Ha. This may be the most craptacular journal entry ever. It seemed noteworthy when I sat down but as I look back on it all I wonder why I even bothered. Oh well.
no subject
Date: 2003-06-02 07:09 am (UTC)And her name is "Ozzie?" Seriously? Wild. Dude.