Here I am with my favorite bartender S. in black and white. Black and white keeps us from looking too...Everything. Don't you think?
Oh, kids. I thought I was so damn clever. If I could only just ignore my cold, then maybe it would go away. It was like when I was being silly in school and my teachers asked the other kids not to pay attention and encourage me. I thought it would work like that with my cold too, and I was wrong. Dead wrong. Well, not quite dead, but it felt like I might be better off that way a few times.
I felt a little better on Thursday, so I ran my four mile route and went out for a couple of hours for exactly two beers. Bad idea. Every part of it.
An Irish Wolfhound named Dashell at the Dewey Street block party. He and I were pair on the 4th of July.
I woke up on Friday all out of sorts, but still willing to plug away. I was up at 8 and had some time with Stinky, before she went to Wisconsin with her friend's family. And when I say time, I mean, she basically draped herself over me while we were lying on my bed and she prattled on about stuff. Half of it I caught. The other half probably didn't matter all that much. I think it was about her friends not liking some of her other friends and one girl who always hit on every guy Stinky had a crush on... Or something thereabouts.
I ran my 6 mile route and it felt okay. After I got home, I was still a little out of it. Coadster wanted a girl date with me after Stinky left. She had just received her first full paycheck and needed a dress to wear to a wedding. We wandered around downtown and found just what she wanted. Then went to The Atlas for extravagant salads.
By Friday night, Coadster had left for the Quad Cities and I was so beat and sick that all I could do was lie around and play video games.
Here is a band that played at one of my Fourth of July celebrations.
By Saturday morning, there was no more ignoring my cold. It was stubborn and it wasn't going anywhere. I could barely hear and I think I was a bit feverish. That was just fine, because it was raining outside, so all the signs were pointing to me staying home and finally resting up. I didn't run. Instead I cleaned and putzed all day. I'd work on a room and then lie down, then go back to work on that room, then get on the computer for a sec and move onto the next room for most of the day.
Here is the muddy, muddy end of Dane road where we went to our other 4th of July party.
By 5 o'clock or so, things were clearing up outside, and I figured I might try to actually venture outside and end my quarantine.
I made it to the Dewey Street block party by 6'ish and basically just did a sweep through the place. I saw a bunch of freaks I used to work with at the Mill in the 80's and some other freaks I go to metal shows with now. Then I moved on to the next thing.
The next thing was the 20th anniversary of the Rock and Roll or Radillac farm's anniversary party. The weather put a damper on it, so the crowd was pretty sparse. Which was just fine with me. I went with my friends G. and D. and we did another cameo appearance.
We finally made it downtown to watch the fireworks and stop at the Dublin. There were tons of people out for Jazz Fest and fireworks. By the end of the night, I had caught my first wind and my friend G. and I did our best to distract pool players from making shots. At least we thought we were funny.
Since I wasn't listening to my cold, my body struck back by giving me a migraine while I was sleeping on saturday night, when I couldn't take anything to tame it in time. Stupid, mean body. I was sufficiently laid-out by the pain for most of the day. Luckily, I had my good migraine meds and they put up a fight and finally won it over by around 10 or 11 last night.
Okay, lesson learned. Uncle, uncle. I give. I will listen to my body from now on, and when I start to get sick, I will refrain from running and socializing for at least a couple of days. Even when that illness falls on a holiday when both my girls are out of town and I have the time and freedom to whoop it up. Amen.