the underwear drawer. every day of the week.
Monday . June 23 . 2003 . 7:45am
We didn't think that anyone was going to show up for the BBBQ Saturday night because it was raining like monsoon season on the Ganges, but a good number of the intrepid actually braved the weather to make it to down to our apartment. It was the first party that we managed to have at our place (the first three were cancelled for a variety of reasons) and I think it went off very well. And the cleanup was relatively easy too. Throw out beer bottles, throw out paper plates. Done and done.
We made burgers, chicken, and a single veggie patty for Bea, our single vegetarian. (I think she eats fish, but I could not figure out how to BBQ fish, unless I bought one of those scary fish patties in the freezer aisle, the box of which features a sea-faring captain in a yellow slicker.) The chicken especially turned out quite well, I think. I marinated it in this teriyaki sauce before grilling, and it was actually pretty tasty and not all dried out as I feared it would be. Probably the biggest hit of the night, though, was the bucket of gummi worms that Joe's mom had sent over for my birthday. Maybe we should have tried grilling those too, so we could take credit for their success.
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I just finished reading Running With Scissors, a book which has been recommended to me several times. I'm not quite sure how I feel about it. Mostly, it was entertaining in that Jerry Springer/Real World kind of way, where you know it's all voyeurism, but just can't turn off the TV because you're so busy thinking to yourself, "where do these people come from?" As for the writing, I thought at times it was quite good, at other times not so good, and basically read like a David Sedaris book, if David Sedaris grew up in a John Irving story. (If you know what I mean.) Also, I felt kind of dirty after I read it. Not dirty in that, "oh god, that story was about pedophilia" kind of way, but dirty in that "I feel like I might have lice now" way. Dirrrty. Read the book and you'll see what I mean.
The author's new book, Dry, just came out, but I think I might try to either read it in the store or hold out for the paperback. They're charging $25 for this thing and it's only 320 pages. Of loose type! When did books and CDs start becoming so expensive? (Yes, yes, music sharing, Napster, yada yada for the CDs. But books? Maybe those pesky libraries are to blame.)
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Today starts our Neonatal Advanced Life Support training. The prospect makes me slightly nervous. The idea of someone thrusting a cyanotic baby at me expecting rapid intubation and resuscitation freaks me out. Should I really be trusted with something that important?