It was a beautiful day today. Or at least it looked like it from the 4th floor window of memorial library. I sat in the library for 4 hours. FOUR HOURS. On a wooden chair that was probably made in 19th century by someone who thought if he sat on highly uncomfortable chairs he would be more likely to go to heaven. And, I can't quite figure out how to get the music on my computer to play in a random mode. Not the end of the world, but still annoying. I did, however, get a ton of stuff done in those 4 hours. Apparently those uncomfortable wooden chairs greatly increase the speed of your reading ability. I have a paper topic, which is very exciting because this is a paper that was due 2 years ago. Yeah, you read that right. It's taken me two years to come up with a paper topic for a paper that will only be 20 pages long. Thank god I already have a dissertation topic.
Well, that's about the extent of my exciting weekend. Wes is paranoid because I won't give him my blog address. So last night I went through and read him the blogs that had to do with him (ok, not all of them) and I read him some of the ones I wrote about relationships. And he said some of them made him sad, because I wrote that I was scared and he promised me I didn't have to be anymore because he would always love me and take care of me. Which is good, because if he's lying Camille will kick his ass! But he still want the address. I don't want to give it to him, so he'll just have to keep looking.
On to Charley (yes, I know that wasn't a great transitional sentence). Wes said he received a voicemail from Charley. I think I already mentioned that. What Wes didn't tell me then was that this message totally creeped him out. He said it was like Charley had either smoked so much he had lost all sense of reality, or he was smoking harder stuff. He was kind of afraid to call him back. He said that since he told Charley we were together that the conversations have been getting weirder and weirder. He did call Charley back today, and said he sounded much more sane. But he said Charley mentioned me in the middle of nowhere and Wes couldn't figure out why. Something to the effect that if Wes talked to an old friend, not to mention me. Wes, caught off guard, just said "ok" and changed the subject. I told him Charley was just trying to figure out if we were still together. Wes thinks I'm right, but didn't think of that at the time. I feel sorry for Charley. Not in a "I wish I could make it all better" type of way, but in a "you dumbass, you did this to yourself, and you don't even realize it" type of way.
Ok, I want to go read for pleasure (no, not that kind of pleasure, I just mean non-academic reading). If my Saturday nights got any more exciting, I really don't know how I would handle it.