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When I was at Gordon, I had a friend named Mary Elizabeth. She was one of the �normal� people at Gordon. I say �normal� because that�s going by my definition of the word. By the Gordon definition, we were both freaks.
Anyway�
Mary Elizabeth didn�t believe in using birth control. She was also against abortion. Neither of these things, though, stopped her from having sex. They just created this continual loop of worry for her (and, consequently, for me, her friend). The first time she told me she thought she might be pregnant, I actually sat in the handicapped bathroom stall with her while she peed on a stick (the mark of a true friend, I believe) and crossed my fingers while we waited to see what the window of truth would bring. She got one solid pink line.
With a huge sigh of relief, she smiled at me. �Let�s go celebrate! Pizza party!�
From that moment on, the arrival of Mary Elizabeth�s period was always celebrated with pizza, as long as we were at school. I don�t know if she still crosses her fingers and prays for a large extra-cheese. We lost touch after I exited the Gordon scene.
Regardless�
In the spirit of my Mary Elizabeth days, I had a piece of pizza for lunch today. Long live the single solid pink line.
I spent about five hours at work yesterday. Slept until 10, got here at 10:45, left again at 4. I hibernated on the couch all evening, snuggled under my down comforter in my flannel jammies. (Dammit�WHY does Word always want to change �jammies� to �jimmies�? It really makes me mad!) Chris came home and thawed some lentils and macaroni that I�d frozen last week. He brought me a big bowl of them and insisted that I eat. It was nice, truly, or would have been, if he hadn�t been drunk and silly in the process. No joke, my roommate came home and got plastered by himself. He sat at his desk and drank cocktail after cocktail while playing online car racing games for four hours straight.
Whatever.
I can�t stress about Chris. I have enough of my own things to stress about.
That sounds terrible. It makes it seem like I don�t care about Chris at all, which totally isn�t true. But I�ve tried and tried and tried to help him, to get him to help himself, and been rejected over and over and over.
A person can only try so much.
Thanks, by the way, for all the kind words in my guestbook the other day about my mom. She�s completed three days of treatment, and is starting to feel better. This is a good thing. I tend to think it�s partly due to all the good vibes coming her way!
Tonight, the Boyfriend and I are meeting his mom, her employees and Amy for dinner. Betsy organized this as a company Christmas party. Not sure how I got on that list�I�ve never worked for her. But regardless, we�re going. I feel like crap, and would much rather just go home and back to bed, but�so it goes. Trying�TRYING�to have a good attitude about this�
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