Tuesday, nothing happened. Wake, work, Resident Evil 4, work, sleep.

Wednesday was interesting. A peculiar day with peculiar events. Work in the morning didn’t seem to have anything of noteworthiness, but things got a bit interesting after that. At Freedom Place, some kid jacked Rob’s cell phone and he held everyone back until the phone turns up. You know the drill, happened at least twice a year in elementary. Someone brings the CD player to class, like they’re not supposed to, and it disappears and the teacher doesn’t let anyone leave until it turns up. Looking back, Rob checked me before anyone else, at least I think. He tapped one of my cargo pockets that had my bike gloves in it, and I think that was a check for his cell phone, maybe not, but maybe so. Sort of sucks that I’m not above suspicion, but I can’t say I blame him. After that is when he put the place on lock down. I told him that digital cell phone networks can effectively pin point the cell phone’s location once it logs onto their network, so if everyone leaves without it turning up, if the thief turns it on, Cellular One or whoever his carrier is can tell him where it’s at. He let me go first, which felt redeeming for the prior possible search. Sunday night, when I got home from Cincinnati, my parents told me that there would be a girl named Crystal moving into the house. They didn’t really give me specifics or details. This family is proficient at dealing with the strange and the weird, life’s curve balls are what we’re best at dealing with, so it seems. As of such, I didn’t really feel motivated to ask the questions maybe I should have. Monday, I talk to my mom and she says that it looks like that it’s not going to happen. Tuesday night, I come home and find a note on the counter that says Crystal is moving in on Wednesday. When I get home from Freedom Place, there she is, in my original bedroom with stacks of stuff. I say hello and move on to my room. Hillary and Brittney come over here and setup shop in the bathroom. Those two are talking and mom and Crystal are talking. Want to drive a kid who’s used to and happy with a quiet house super crazy? Toss four chatty females into earshot of him. If it was a bus station or something it’d be fine, but I enjoy my quiet in the place I sleep and live.

I talked to Katie on the phone and tried to zero out the noise of the other conversations, with varied degrees of success. I geared up to go back to the church to see if Rob was still there and if his phone turned up. The gaggle were nested in the green room, and I talked to them before I left. I told mom that I don’t think I was going to church, I was feeling tired. She suggested that I make some dinner for Crystal and me, since she had a meeting to go to. Although I did have a salad recipe rattling around in my brain for a week and this was prime time to put it into effect, I didn’t feel motivated. I told her I’d do it. I left, and Rob wasn’t at the church, so I peddled around the neighborhood for awhile and came back home. Mom was gone, and Crystal was sorting through a plastic tub she had just inside of the doorway of her room. I sprawled out on the floor of the hallway and tried to start the Get To Know Your Total Stranger Housemate Conversation. We talked of various things, but we spoke of music the most. She has a diverse taste in music, which I do too. I think I have more of a diversity in my taste. She showed me a copy of Tupac Shakur’s The Rose that Grew from Cement, which has been on my Need to Read List for a couple of years. I pawed through it and enjoyed one of the poems and gave it back. Beginning to die, I terminated the conversation with an invitation to go to Kroger’s with me. We shopped in near silence, I didn’t really have anything more to say, but I did notice that I talked to myself a lot while I was around her. I’m not sure if that’s a sign of nervousness, which I didn’t feel nervous, or one of those ever present, yet completely pointless desires to fill the silence with anything, which is something I’ve tried to never do. I hope it wasn’t that one, the needless chatter one.

At home, she went back to unpacking and I set to work toasting pistachios. She enjoyed the salad, I thought it was slightly off and needed work. We talked a bit more, and then I cleaned up the kitchen. I put some water on for some ramen noodles and went back upstairs to watch some Aqua Teens while the water boiled. During that time I shed my shirt and shoes, as is my custom. When I realized I had forgotten the water, I went back downstairs in a rush, and I think that I surprised Crystal by being half naked. I hope she gets used to that, I don’t like wearing clothes at all, and around here, the shirt just doesn’t happen. After that, more Aqua Teens, a call to Katie around nine-ish, and then I decided I was tired, but opted not to sleep. I asked Crystal if she wanted to watch a movie, and took her to my room and told her to pick anything she wanted to watch. This, of course, was a test. What movie she picked, I was sure would give me great insight into the personality of the person I now have to live with. Reader, let me assure you that if your over here some time and I’m entertaining you and give you the same choice of whatever you want to watch, it doesn’t mean that it’s some sort of test. Chances are, I already know you well enough that this test would mean little. If she picked a straight up guy film, I’d know that she’s the kind of person who is desperate to make a good first impression, although true enough some girls actually do like “guy films”. If she picks a total chick flick, I’d know that she’s self-centered or inconsiderate, she doesn’t know that I like those kind of films. If she picks a comedy, I know she’s a light hearted individual. A scary movie, she has a exciting personality which may be hidden. And so on and so on. Long story short, she didn’t pick one. I had to. I picked Training Day. We watched it in the green room, she told me she was sun burnt, and afterward she said she enjoyed that movie. I told her good night and I went to bed, way too late, I might add..

This morning, I wake up. My alarm hasn’t gone off, so this is one of those pleasant mornings that I feel good waking up before my alarm has gone off. Then I realize that there is far too much light in the room for 7am. Shoot, I had put my Palm on mute the night before during the movie and never turned it off. I’ve got about twenty minutes to get up, get ready, and to work. I clocked in at 9:02. Two minutes late, and I biked to work. Not too shabby, I must say.

Today, really the only thing of giant interest, for me at least, that happened was a thought process that started after a conversation with Katie. At Jason’s, I called Katie, and she was incredibly upset that she had received rather negative remarks on a English paper that she had worked very hard on. I tried to be supportive and “there for her” (I put that in quotations, because I do that a lot, be there for people, but I don’t really know what that means… anyway… ), and I she expressed appreciation for that, which I enjoyed. The thing that stuck in my mind is she asked me “Why don’t you ever have bad days?”

This is the question that stuck with me for the rest of the day. I wanted to say something selfish at first, not sure what, but initially it struck me as so pretentious and stupid that someone would assume that I don’t have “bad days”. Then I thought about it. Yeah, I don’t really have lots of bad days. I know I do, and anyone who had faithfully read my chronicles here knows darn well that I have bad days. Upon further focus on the topic, I don’t think I have lots of good days either. Why is this?

I think it’s a mix of things, really. I have different priorities in life and I value things differently. Not just differently from Katie, but from lots of people. If I worked super hard on an English paper and got a crappy grade on it, I’d be irked, but not as upset as Katie would be. That doesn’t make me better or worse, just different. A person might venture to say that I would have the right to be even more upset than Katie would be, since English is one of the topics I’m actually good at, but still, I don’t think I’d be upset. Why though? Because it’s just a little thing? Nah, I know that the little things add up. I F’up one paper, it effects my English grade, which effects my GPA, which effects my ability to graduate, which effects my future. No such thing as small things, really. Tomorrow I’ll think about this more. I’ll express this one thing and maybe it’ll help with understanding. When I went to see Macbeth in Cincinnati this past weekend, although it was something I wanted to do, the trip was to see and spend time with Katie. That was the motivation to go. Today, Ryan suggested that we do something the next holiday weekend that comes up. I told him we would. I won’t go to do whatever it is we’re doing. I’ll go to spend time with Ryan. I’ve told lots and lots of people through the last few years that I’m a “Down For Whatever Kind of Guy”. I’ve got a taste for adventure, sure, but most of the things I do are to spend time with other people. Sometimes it’s to connect and establish friendships or deepen them or appreciate them or maintain them. Sometimes it’s just to experience the unequaled entertainment of some people’s company. Tasting the personal idiosyncrasies of an individual is something that can’t be read in a book or watched on TV. Truly, my favorite source of entertainment. And in turn, I hope to be the most entertaining flavor of person to everyone who experiences me.