OK, I've been unable to do anything all afternoon, so the promised post about stuff I did yesterday.

I went to the Point yesterday afternoon, and it was beautiful. The lake has pretty much melted, but you can see an ice shelf out on the horizon. There were little chunks of ice floating around the water, and the ducks were diving for food. I didn't realise they could stay under so long; every time I watched one go under, I'd wait for it to come back up. It took so long that the first few times I was afraid the duck had died under there. I did get a little Bio done, sitting on the rocks there, but not enough. Never enough.

Came home, messed around the rest of the afternoon, watched Trading Spaces, and was ready to sit down to work. But I couldn't get the notes for ODE to work, and I figured that had to be a sign from someone, so I IMed Ruthie and ended up agreeing to go to a party with her. Will was over and I tried to get him and Amanda to talk me out of going to the party, but I failed. I walked about half a block to the Maroon party.

I went up the back stairs to the apartment because Ruthie had told me to and start walking through the apartment looking for her. Some guy hits me on the shoulder and says "Deutschland." That would have been a good deal weirder if I hadn't been wearing that jacket that every pretentious rich kid Commie owns. You know the jacket I'm talking about. It's army green, with pockets and epaulets and has the German flag on each shoulder (in my defense, I bought mine in Florence for 4000 lire because it was raining and kind of cold. The jacket's been very good to me. It served as part of the best Halloween costume ever. When I was working at the movie theater, we had to dress up for Halloween one year. I was Che Guevara, complete with mirrored sunglasses, black beret, boots, black tee-shirt, and of course, my trusty jacket with little red things pinned over the German flags.).

Anyway, I found Ruthie, we stayed about half an hour, and then we left. On the way out, I saw Chris but didn't talk to him and when we were outside, Andrew (side note, I think I have a little bit of a crush on Andrew. He's tall, he's funny, and I seem to have a prediliction for the name Andrew.). There was a group of people leaving with us who were going to go climb a church and a guy who was VERY concerned about his shotglass getting stolen. With another girl from Ruthie's house, we decided to go to this party up at Haymarket House and started walking up there. When we got to the corner of 57th and Dorchester, we saw a drunk van sitting there (that's a van from the U of C's late night shuttle service, not a van that had been celebrating St. Patrick's Day). Ruthie went up to the driver.
Ruthie: Are you on duty?
Him: Are you the person who called?
R: Yes. No.
H: Which is it?
R: Yes.
H: You're going to the Shoreland?
R: No, we changed our mind. Can you take us to 53rd and Ridgewood?
So we got a ride to the party. When we got there, the place was pretty quiet, but we heard some music around the side. We went around to investigate, and there were about 30 people in the basement. Clearly the party had been much cooler earlier, and there were still remnants of that. But we stayed about 5 minutes and then left (Maggie's clearly rubbing off on me). We started walking back, and Ruthie called someone in the party. He said the cops were breaking it up, so we decided not to go back in.

I got home about 3:00 and got up at 8:45 to go to breakfast at Orange. It was very good (and there was frushi), even if there was a disturbing picture of an emaciated, shirtless man at Oak Street Beach on the wall.