When Annie comes to visit she brings two bottles of white Merlot and a case of Labatts. We drain the wine and finish half the case in a night, laughing and smoking and drinking until one side of my face is numb. Often I go to visit people and have the dullest time in the world. I’ve even gone to visit folks in large cities and been bored out of my mind for my entire visit. When Annie comes we sit on my floor in my room with a little bit of liquor and some Burger King and have a great time. I guess it’s the person. Or the people.

When a friend comes to visit, especially one who’s not normally around, I remember how odd I am. I remember because Annie points it out, laughing. What’s that? Oh, yes, I suppose keeping your socks and underwear in your desk is strange. I guess most people don’t keep a coffee pot in their closet. When someone says, “Want coffee? “ And you slide open the closet door to reveal it percolating…. Yeah, that is weird.

She must be back by the afternoon, so I go to church alone. I had contemplate not going at all, but knew I would regret it. Mass in a large Catholic church can be considerably improved when one is hung over. It’s even better when there is no seating left, so you hang around in the vestibule looking at the ceiling and singing hymns loudly to yourself. Dean was there. Apparently Notre Dame is much like a roach motel (or like my own alma mater for that mater) Once most students come in, they can never really seem to get the fuck out. I’m not complaining. I hoped he’d be around. Did I talk to him? No. Did I want to or need to? Not really. Did I just want to know he was still here? Yes. Does that make sense?

It does in my world.

The Mass seemed to last three times as long, but I liked it. I did not like my headache. I did not like not like not being able to find the aspirin until later that day.
Later that day I sit in bed smoking cigarettes and drinking Labatts while I drift off to Joseph Campbell videos from the public library.

School starts next week. My God, can you believe these people would actually not only let me earn my Masters, but be trusted with TEACHING kids? Tsk, tsk, those poor fuckers don’t know what they're in for.