Epiphany in Baltimore

2002-02-04

Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com

What a weird weekend.

Not event-wise, persay. But for some reason, I'm just feeling really odd this weekend. Unsettled is a good word for it. I'm not sure why. On Saturday, after spending way too much on a party that turned out to be anti-climactic, I came home. I went to go see Gosford Park alone that afternoon at The Charles, assuming neither of my roommates would want to see it. I felt like crying on the way to the theater. I wasn't sure why - was it that here I was in the city for almost six months, and I was still going to the movies alone? Nah. It's never bugged me before. But I was feeling odd all day, and then it sort of snowballed once I got home.

My emotional state was a bubbling cauldron of nostalgia, loneliness, excitement, boredom, and wistfulness. For a while, I was trying to pinpoint what brought it on. Was it the fact that I was throwing a party on Sunday with my new Baltimore friends, which is a symbol that I'm indeed moving on from my Michigan background? Was it the fact that Jeremy now appeared to be in a relationship, that he beat me to it despite my earlier propensity for getting girls' numbers? Was it the fact that it was Saturday night, and that I felt like calling Nick or Teri to do something two nights in a row would sound desperate? Was it the fact that I was content in my staying home for a night on a weekend?

I wasn't sure. Eventually, I just gave into it. I ended up calling every Michigan friend whose number I have. I called Hugasoul, and neither she nor Paul were home. I called Berty, who was on her way out the door but still managed a five-minute conversation (during which I successfully guilted her into updating her diary more often). I called Nate, and we chatted for around ten minutes. Jen and Heath were next on my list, and I left an out-of-the-blue message on their answering machine - I haven't talked with them since the summer, and can count on one hand the amount of times I've talked with them since they graduated and we stopped being RAs together. I had just talked with Erin and Gale, so I didn't want to burden them with a phone call, but I also got a hold of my grandparents in Florida. I then gave Simon a call, and we talked for a good 45 minutes. He didn't talk much; it was mostly me. I miss him. If I ever made a list of non-family members who have had the biggest impact on my life, he would certainly be near the top. Hopefully he'll make it down here soon, or maybe I can make my way up to Boston this summer sometime.

The funniest part of our conversation was talking about sports. I've been getting into football lately for the social value of it - being able to talk about it with others - and I found myself really enjoying it, despite my disposition that baseball is by far the superior sport. Simon also follows sports only for the social value of them - he watches five minutes of Sportscenter every day for the sole purpose of being able to talk to folks about it. This is because, he says, "If you're counting on getting to know people by talking about lesbian folk singers, you're not going to find too many." Then there was a pause, then a huge guffaw. He snorted: "It's amazing we found each other!"

Because we both enjoy lesbian folk singers. Get it? (That's oversimplification, yes, but with Melissa Ferrick, Ani DiFranco, Dar Williams, et el, near the top of both of our listening lists, there is a lot of truth in it.)

Anyhow, the phone calls didn't do much to pull me out of my little mood, but they were fun. After the best episode of Saturday Night Live all year (who'd a thunk it, with Brittney Spears hosting?), I went to bed and was ready for the Super Bowl Party the next day.

Well, it was alright. Four people came from work - Marcia, Nick, and Teri (all expected) - and Melissa, a new Spanish teacher from Ohio. She's pretty cool, and just started on Wednesday. I was glad she made it. I was surprised no one else did, but oh well. All in all, there were ten people sitting around and watching the game, which I guess is a good number. I suppose I shouldn't hope for much mingling and such at a Super Bowl party. I suppose I shouldn't mind that I have enough leftover food to feed an entire football team. But I sort of do. The party turned out to be anticlimactic. I had put 2pm on the invitation, and the first person (Mike from DC, who I taught with last year) didn't arrive until nearly 4. Most didn't arrive until within an hour of the game time. But I had fun.

The game was good. Very exciting. Marcia is from Boston, and she had a great time with the win. Everyone was pretty much rooting for the Patriots (when all else is equal, why not root for the underdogs?). We also had a giddy time making fun of Mariah Carey's horrible lip-synced version of the National Anthem, and the misfired Tribute to America before the game. (This is a freaking football game, and they showed coverage of the WTC falling down?? That certainly gets you pumped for the game...)

In other news, I'm definitely not jealous of Jeremy and his new relationship. Nope, definitely not. Not at all. Nope. And definitely not jealous of all the bedroom activity that occurred last night. At one point, he came down and asked me to borrow a pillow. And I certainly wasn't thinking about the fact that Feb. 7 will mark the six-month anniversary of the last time I got any action at all, and that was marginal at best... So, yup, just to clear things up, I'm definitely not jealous, not whatsoever.

Have I convinced you?

Oy, that is going to take some getting used to - the fact that my unlucky-in-love roommate is getting action on his deflated air mattress and I no longer have a partner in my relationshiplessness.

The weekend was definitely way too short, and I'm stressed about money right now. I'm still in a weird emotional state, but I'm just riding it out. It's not entirely unpleasant. Perhaps it'll pass. I need to work out more this week. I feel like a lump.