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I have an announcement to make to the world at large.
Stephan is the nicest person EVER. Augh.
Mama (well, she's just as nice, but she's my mother) brought me ginger ale and ginger and apples because the thought of any other food produces severe nausea in record time. So I have lain in bed all day, the pain of disuse in my back growing steadily worse. Stephan called around 5 and managed to discern through the static (my bed has terrible reception) that I was indeed in my room. He then proceeded to entertain me for at least an hour with tales of his train trip through the Rockies and the revelations he's had in discussions with Dr. Barnett. When dinnertime rolled around, he offered to bring me something. I didn't realize until he left that dinner meant the orange juice dispenser was open, so before going to the library (oh, how I envy him the ability) he brought a huge cup of it to disguise the vomitous taste that is Grapefruit Seed Extract.
This is all after the vigil he kept by his roommate (drunk nearly to death), turning him over and never complaining about the Everclear-induced vomit which precluded his wearing his bowtie to the Chorale concert Sunday. And you know, he intensely dislikes his roommate. But last night (before I was felled by whatever this is) he went off on a rant about how angry he was that his roommate's friends just left him there, irresponsibly. He could have died.
Nobody's ever just sat and told me random stories when I was sick. It's much easier to forget how sick one is in that case.
For the record, I've gone through Vespers, Liturgy, Symphonic Dances, 2-piano Rach, all of Led Zeppelin ever (about 3 hours), and Rach preludes in the course of today. Rach rules the world. Well, so does Zep.
Okay, my strength is gone. Must get back to bed before tremors overcome me and typing is impossible.
ETA: And now he's brought me Spinal Tap and told me more stories about stupid MUSIs he encountered in the library. My (pompous ass) hero.
Stephan is the nicest person EVER. Augh.
Mama (well, she's just as nice, but she's my mother) brought me ginger ale and ginger and apples because the thought of any other food produces severe nausea in record time. So I have lain in bed all day, the pain of disuse in my back growing steadily worse. Stephan called around 5 and managed to discern through the static (my bed has terrible reception) that I was indeed in my room. He then proceeded to entertain me for at least an hour with tales of his train trip through the Rockies and the revelations he's had in discussions with Dr. Barnett. When dinnertime rolled around, he offered to bring me something. I didn't realize until he left that dinner meant the orange juice dispenser was open, so before going to the library (oh, how I envy him the ability) he brought a huge cup of it to disguise the vomitous taste that is Grapefruit Seed Extract.
This is all after the vigil he kept by his roommate (drunk nearly to death), turning him over and never complaining about the Everclear-induced vomit which precluded his wearing his bowtie to the Chorale concert Sunday. And you know, he intensely dislikes his roommate. But last night (before I was felled by whatever this is) he went off on a rant about how angry he was that his roommate's friends just left him there, irresponsibly. He could have died.
Nobody's ever just sat and told me random stories when I was sick. It's much easier to forget how sick one is in that case.
For the record, I've gone through Vespers, Liturgy, Symphonic Dances, 2-piano Rach, all of Led Zeppelin ever (about 3 hours), and Rach preludes in the course of today. Rach rules the world. Well, so does Zep.
Okay, my strength is gone. Must get back to bed before tremors overcome me and typing is impossible.
ETA: And now he's brought me Spinal Tap and told me more stories about stupid MUSIs he encountered in the library. My (pompous ass) hero.
