Friday night at Thornfield Hall

I’m not superstitious, but this encounter last Friday does not fill me with confidence. However, I will continue to keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best. As well as, of course, continue to look for work.

Apart from that awkwardness, my Friday was fantastic. Actually, my fantastic Friday started Thursday, when I hung out with Jeff. It continued over lunch with Rozi and baby Anna. Then Danita and I saw Jane Eyre. I really enjoyed it because I am so very fond of Michael Fassbender. I mean, look at him!

Ooh, he’s all a-smolder. (image from focusfeature.com/jane_eyre)

Danita didn’t think much of the things that didn’t make the leap from the book to the adaptation — namely that the Rivers siblings were Jane’s cousins (in the movie they are of no relation) but I didn’t miss it. They got St. John’s character right, but by that point in the movie, I think it was obvious that (spoiler alert!) Jane would return to Rochester, and they would live “happily emo after” in a burnt-out castle.

My Saturday got off to the slow start, but it was promising. I didn’t leave my house until 3:15. But to be fair, I was really busy that morning. Watching “The Real Housewives of Miami”. Rozi had told me it was pretty good, so I gave it a shot. I was not disappointed. Adriana’s a bit of a mess, Marysol is my favorite, and Larsa’s children are adorable. Marysol’s mother Elsa is kind of scary, a self-proclaimed witch who loves her wine, which is probably why I love her so.

I left the house when Leah tweeted if anybody was up for some food. I suggested we meet at Del Seoul, where I proceeded to destroy a plate of kalbi, rice, and bok choy. Leah got the tacos and some fries. A very filling meal that did not feel heavy. The sun was still out, so we walked up Clark Street to Starbucks and got some coffee. Walk to the Borders on Diversey, where there wasn’t much left to pick over. But the place was packed! Last stop at World Market where we sat and talked about dudes on OkCupid.

Basically, a perfect Saturday afternoon.

That night, I made it to Simon’s for Lisa’s last night in town before she flies back to the Netherlands. Met some of her friends, and stuck around to have a couple of sodas. Some folks went out on Clark Street to see if they could catch sight of the “supermoon,” but nobody saw anything.

I thought about trying to make it to Wicker Park for Carly’s birthday ‘do, but decided I was not hip enough to brave WP on a Saturday night. I decided to close my night with a late dinner at The Golden Nugget. I know I could have gone to the Melrose, as it’s closer to home, but it wasn’t super late when I got to the Nugget. The walk home from there wouldn’t be too long or cold or too beset with drunk people.

The meal was fine, with constant soda and coffee refills, and a really tasty cup of chicken soup. Fine until a young woman sitting at the booth in front of me, one of three friends taking a break from some partying, I guess, leaned to her right, out of the booth, and vomited quietly onto the floor.

As I was face deep in a pile of mashed potatoes, I didn’t even notice. Not at first, anyway. I thought the splashing sound was from a large pitcher of something, like iced tea. Iced tea that sounded like it had things in it. Then I noticed how quiet the girl and her friends, who were so chatty when they first arrived, had gotten. And that’s when I looked up. The young lady, her long black hair hanging down so I couldn’t see her face, had vomited what looked like seafood gumbo onto the tile. The other girl in the group stroked her back while the guy with them looked mortified.

Even though I’d just gotten a fresh soda, and my coffee cup was full, and the contents of her stomach that now lay on the floor hadn’t yet begun to smell, I got up, put on my coat, paid the check, and made my way home.

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