In the spirit of InPassing, here’s a snippet of a totally wonky Matt randomly chatting with his brother on the phone at 2am:
“Demand, Shawn! Start demanding. And then start killing a hostage every half hour.”
by krisis
SGapt
I think my cd purchases finally outstripped my available listening time last year, and i’m still barely caught up. For a while i was keeping up just fine, but somewhere around my massively ill-advised thanksgiving shopping spree i managed to load up on more things than i had the ears for, and Christmas just put me further under. Albums by Portishead, Velvet Underground, Built to Spill, Ben Folds Five, et all are still just strewn around my desk-floor-stereo area while i’m still stuck on Sarah Harmer and DeathCab for Cutie. And, of course, a new 29-track Ani DiFranco album coming within the next month doesn’t really leave me much time to adequately catch up, does it?
If i could just get my brain to constantly download music and upload blogs during class and sleep (and sleep during class), all of my problems could be solved…
Matt has this hilarious routine where he always seems incredibly hung over when he wakes up. Note that he doesn’t drink, and that this applies even if he wakes up from a ten minute nap. I know this probably has something to do with him sleeping in the high bunk … because god knows i could see myself getting a little woozy from the dismount after sleeping for a while beforehand. Still, the way he always manages to stumble out of the bedroom and into the bathroom or kitchen is endlessly amusing to me. It’s like he’s got a hangover and munchies! But, i swear, he’s just been sleeping for hours now – not sitting in his bed with a bottle of Captain Morgan’s and a packed bowl. I mean… even with my totally unintuitive nose for illegal substances i think i’d be able to smell that, wouldn’t i? It’s a rather small apartment…
The apartment is such a wreck right now. It’s not as though i’m the one that keeps it clean, but removing me for an entire week doesn’t really help matters either. And, of course, i came back with all sorts of stuff in tow, so now it’s just a mess. Again. It’s always a mess. And i’m already supposed to be looking for a place for next year. EeK!
Nearly a week passes with nary a word from my fingertips, and i’d hope you’d be worried about me. I mean … when i flew to Florida for four days i nearly cried when i last closed down my Blogger screen, and here i am flitting around Philadelphia with hardly a regret? Well, it didn’t work out quite that way… although that was the net effect, wasn’t it?
Last Thursday i was sick. I was totally fine on Wednesday, and on Thursday i was sick. Actually, i’ve been sick for about as long as i’ve been dating my girlfriend, on and off. (That’s sick on and off, not dating on and off). Last Thursday was awful, though. I slept on a tiny green room couch for hours, i dragged my feet through my acting class, and i slept through much of my rehearsal until finally it was my turn to rehearse. Thankfully, my director Bill drove me home, as while i spent the whole day sleeping in the theatre several inches of snow accumulated.
Friday was more uneventful, though i did lose my voice in my first class (that was rather unexpected). The eventful bit was having a largish fight with my darling girlfriend, in which i was a big meanie the whole time because i was convinced that i was supposed to break up with her. It’s funny how in a situation like that my spine is the last thing to come into play; i told Matt i was going to break up with her, i steeled myself against easy reconciliation, and i tried to burn bridges before they could be recrossed. So much for that. All we wound up with was a really hurtful fight that will always be a mark against me. Good job, Peter.
Perhaps as a result of the intense back and forth on Friday (or perhaps it had to do with the small amount of vodka i consumed that night), i was sick on Saturday. Very very sick. Every time i would fall asleep i’d wake up two hours later having soaked through my clothing and the sheets in sweat. My temperature kept spiking and falling, with each spike bringing on a spectacular headache and on the way up or down from it a tremendous amount of sweating or chills. What a spectacular way to spend a Saturday.
By Sunday my body was out of ideas of what to do with itself. Unbeknownst to me, i was completely dehydrated (which was indicated by the fact that i couldn’t muster the nerve to touch solid foods like crackers or granola bars), and running a 102degree temperature. Somehow i crawled my way to rehearsal (a grueling journey for someone in the shape i was in), but once i got there i was a total wreck. I’ve done full dress rehearsals with high fevers before, but i was sweating and shaking and in no shape to sing or do anything else. Plus, there was the coughing. It hadn’t seemed like the central element of my sickness the night before, but it felt pretty damned central at that point.
My director Bill (aka: Guardian Angel) told me that he wanted me to go to an emergency room and come back healthy Monday or Tuesday, so into the scene came Mother. Mother picked me up, carted me to her emergency room, where i had lots of blood taken from me in addition to a trip to x-ray (they wheeled my bed there… wheeled it!). And, the pinnacle of fun and enjoyment was when i was given an IV and hydrated with two litres of saline. I came home that night in better shape that i had been in, and in the possession of Robotussin with Codeine. Yeah.
The capper was yesterday – the day i had earmarked for “catching up on my soap operas and blogging like a whore.” And that didn’t happen, because i was back in the ER, because my chest films showed i had pneumonia! Whee! This time my ER visit earned me my very own room, lots of wonderful breathing treatments, two more litres of hydration, a hospital issue turkey sandwich, and lots of warm blankets.
So, erm, yeah. That’s my excuse. I’ll shut up about my life now. Just wanted you to know that, um, i’ve alive. Which had been in doubt by some people lately. Love ya!