Saturday is a Special Day

I've been strangely productive today, and I'm feeling good about myself, so I thought I'd let you all know that. I think I'll start at right now, and work my way back.

Right now, it's nearing 2am and my fingers are covered in shreds of picked-at krazy glue that I've been trying to get off for the past two hours. I am tired, and happy.

Around midnight, I finished my art project, heaved a sigh of relief, and loaded and ran the dishwasher. Moxious! Also, Productive!

At 9:30, our friend Dave (I call him Dave because that's his name) left, and my two roommates (The Desirable One and her sister, The Quebecer) went off to dye each other's hair, while I baked the cupcakes and worked on my art project.

At eight-ish, The Desirable One got home from work, and we three decided to set off in search of groceries. As we opened the door to leave the house, we ran into our friend Dave, who had come to pay us a visit. We all went shopping together and had a grand time, and found cake mixes for like 82 cents each at walmart. We decided to make cupcakes to eat during the potluck lunch in between sessions of conference tomorrow.

From perhaps 3:30 to eight-ish, The Quebecer and I worked on cleaning the house. I cleaned my bathroom, the chinchilla cage, and the fan in my bedroom, while she cleaned pretty much the rest of the entire house. She's much more industrious than I. I also planned out a four page paper that's due on Monday which I should have mentioned typing up after loading the dishwasher. In other words, I'm all done with that assignment and ready to print of it and turn it in.

1:00-3:00: The Quebecer and I went back to the House of Excellent Food, and watched the second session of General Conference. I was completely awake this time, and I paid attention and took notes and thought that all of the talks were marvelous. There were freshly made giant chocolate chip cookies halfway through the session. They were delicious.

11:30-12:20: I laid my benadrylly carcass on my bed and slept like a log. Like a log that's at the bottom of a lake, covered in slime and moss.

We started the day, first of all, with me not being able to open my eye. It was glued shut with disgusting rubber cement that appeared out of nowhere during the night sometime. This provided great start to the day, getting that one part of "I am the Walrus" stuck in my head: "yellow matter custard/ dripping from a dead dog's eye...." We went to the House of Excellent Food, where live three or four young men of my roommates' acquaintance who invited us over for pre-conference breakfast. The breakfast, which happened at an ungodly 8 in the morning on a saturday, included lovely omelet something, fruit salad, and Stuffed French Toast. This is some sort of ambrosial mixture of bread, caramel, cinnamon, apples and cream cheese, layered in a casserole dish, and served to very lucky people. We watched the first session of General Conference on their big screen tv. Well, *they* all watched the first session. I pretty much was un-awake for those two hours, being in a benadryl-induced haze of drowsiness (I had taken a couple of pills when I woke up, in an effort to make my face look like normal).

Yesterday evening: There was a supposedly Totally Awesome Activity happening on the mountain which I wanted to go to, but all of my roommates were either out of town or had other plans, so I harrassed my resume-writing friend to give me a ride. We got to the site of the activity, and it wasn't quite as thrilling as expected. We played capture the flag, and I "guarded" our flag. In other words, I sat in the dark under a tree for a long time while nobody came, and gradually developed some nasty-itchy eyes from allergies. The allergic eyes continued after the game ended and we stood around the campfire, talking. Before I go on, let me suggest to you that you go and watch Hitch, because if you do, I won't have to explain what happened next.












You didn't watch the movie, did you? Sigh. Ok. So, we get into the car to go back down the mountain, and my resume-writing friend sees in the light of the car that my eye has swollen up to the size of something that's not eye-sized, but much bigger. And we're not talking just like the skin surrounding the eye area, but the actual eyeball. He suggested that it might explode, and maybe we should stop by the store and get some benadryl. I concurred. So we went into the store and the patrons stopped in their tracks and gaped at my hideousness as we walked to the pharmacy section. We got a bottle of liquid children's benadryl, as well as a bottle of normal benadryl pills. I looked down as we checked out, so the cashier wouldn't run away in fear. When we got back out to the car, he tossed me the bottle of liquid and directed me to chug about half of it, which I did. It tasted nasty. Then he drove me home, where I sat up and waited for my roommates to come home so they could put allergy drops in my eye, because I was too scared to do it myself. By the time they got home and put the drops in my eye, I was succumbing to the benadryl's drowsy-making power, and I had a precarious climb to the top bunk where my deliciously soft and welcoming pillow awaited me.