Biohazard Roommate

Whew. Already a week? Talk about lame blogging standards. In my defense, I've been busy picking up not only my own slack, but Eric's as well.

Friday evening was Uli's birthday party. Eric and I staged a bitter, biting fight while Uli was in the car - telling him that we had to drive to my Grandma's to bake dinner, as I "broke" the oven. He was only slightly suspicious, but completely fell for our "fight". He was very surprised to see the whole group (pretty much) gathered at Applebees, and enjoyed his birthday dinner and cakes. We ended up back at our place, where some serious Apples to Apples and Guitar Hero happened. We rounded off the night with The Boondock Saints (where Uli learned why it was never released in theaters...). A great evening, and Uli's first (and most likely last, as Germans aren't into it) surprise birthday party.

Sunday evening, as Eric lay hacking and wheezing on the couch, he said that his dad said he should go to the ER. He said it in an off-hand manner, which I knew meant that he was going to try to tough it out. So I pulled rank, called my rents, got their official med-field endorsed recommendation to take him, and hauled him in - after he finished his current episode of scrubs. Long story short, we eventually made it to Urgent care where they gave him a nebulizer treatment, then a chest x-ray, eventually giving him bronchitis/pneumonia meds and a prescription for an inhaler. He's been back to the doctor, who yesterday was impressed at his raging sickness, and so now he's renting a nebulizer that he gets to take 4 times a day, along with more medicine and the inhaler. He's one sick puppy.

Due to this, I got to pick up his slack as far as German night went. Which was tonight. So I spent a good 3 hours shopping for the evening, plus more time picking up orders and trying to manage the chaos. Everything went off without a hitch, and we have enough peasoup left that I could take a bath in it. Ok, not really, but as I'm not a fan of pea soup, it seems that way. The food was a hit though and the program went smoothly. Some of my dance TA's showed up to Waltz (which was nice that they agreed to come), and so that was kind of fun too.

Speaking of dance, I have some catching up to do! Monday we were instructed to bring a blindfold, so I dutifully brought my scarf. My first partner was actually a returned dance TA, with his wife and adorable 3 month son. Who, he assured us will be a dancer. Very cute. So that went really well. The next one...not so much. The melody was ok (or I thought so, hard to tell when you can't see your partner's feet...), but I kept losing him on moves. And I did NOT want to be groping around when we back-passed (you drag your hand across his back, in theory...but I wasn't going to take any chances) and did other moves. But it could have been much, much worse.

On Wednesday, we chose our dance partners for the test on this up-coming Monday. Since I'm going to be at a conference, I wasn't sure if I should pick one. However, the main male TA told me to go ahead, that we'll just test on Wednesday. Luckily, the guy that I ended up was perfectly all right with this. We also danced a few songs with our partners. We learned a new move - the "grapevine", which, yes, involves stepping backwards and sideways while dancing. Anyhow, we made a beautiful transition in and out (oh, and he's about 4 inches taller than me, so we're well matched...) and he excitedly exclaimed "We are the grapevine masters!" in a very gleeful tone to the the couple nearest us. This happened to be "Counts with his eyes" and his partner. He retorted that he would grapevine all over us. Any time, any place, hmm boys? I got a kick out of the testosterone rush, and really, dancing was fun.

Today in my Brit lit class we were discussing Dr. Faustus and specifically, the concept of hell presented. The Professor said "Think of something you really like...and now imagine not having it...times infinity". Now, admittedly, the first thing that came to mind was chocolate ice cream...so it was hilarious when my friend Ashely muttered under her breath...ice cream....Great minds think alike!

As busy as this week has been, it'll be nice to be in the weekend. However, I've noticed a trend with some of the guys in my classes. Now, I know a lot of guys hunt - but really, how many tree stands can you fall out of? To clarify...A lot of guys come back to school on Monday with mysterious scrapes, bumps and bruises and no forthcoming stories. These are obvious injuries too, like scratches and black eyes on their faces. Admittedly, I did once dance with a guy who assured me that the scrapes were from his new puppy - he hadn't been assaulted or vice versa. He said he didn't want to look creepy. So, really, I think my question is fair enough - what do guys do on their weekends to get so beat up?! I suppose I really don't expect an answer...

Finally, another quick story from my brit lit class. We were discussing how Faustus seems to fall into every deadly sin. My Professor referred to his fling with lechery as his "erotic appetite". As this Professor considers himself a bit of a wit and likes to stretch the comfort zone of his students, he caught one student apparently making a strange face and whispering so he said:
"You don't like the term Erotic Appetite?!"
To which the poor girl blushed and responded...
"No...my stomach was growling..."
Which, is pretty hilarious...given the context.
Anyhow, if it wasn't funny, you have to give me a break as I'm coming down with the sniffles - hopefully just from my allergies...