I think the date was May 9, 2003.

My aunt Susan and uncle Alex used to live in Saddle River, New Jersey, until a year or two ago, when they moved to a penthouse in Fort Lee. A quarter mile from their place was a rather grand garden shop. And by shop, I mean outdoor nursery, complete with ponds, fish, concrete sculptures, plants, etc. You could drive around inside the grounds, it was so big.

Four years ago, I was in town for my cousin Ramin's bachelor party. Ramin is John's older half-brother; his house was maybe a half-mile away from this place. John and I were both staying at Susan and Alex's, his parents' house. The bachelor party was Saturday, but he and I were both in town on Friday, and the things I remember about that day are the way he would be sending email on his Blackberry while driving down busy streets (pretty fucking stupid, in my book) and stopping by this nursery on the way back to his parents' house for some reason I can't remember. Maybe he wanted to buy something for them, who knows.

I hadn't remembered that in all the time since until tonight. The phrase, "Sunfish Pond," in A Walk In the Woods is what brought it to mind, since this nursery had a huge koi pond in the front, which was rather peaceful.

I think the date was May 9, 2003. The next day we played paintball with my uncles and cousins and then had a huge dinner in the basement of some Italian slaughterhouse in Manhattan's old meat district, then to some "gentlemen's club" where I wished I was back in Chicago with my girlfriend at the time. That Sunday was Mother's Day, but my dad had flown back to California, and John had as well. I had a mother's day brunch with my aunts Parvin and Susan, my grandmother, Ramin, Lisa, and Paul. It was gray out, and then I had to fly back to Chicago. Marta and I had a huge fight that week, and she did one of the things which - at that point - I was totally incapable of doing; she didn't give up on our relationship even after I had, and it shocked me in a way I hadn't been before.

Am I becoming an indie rocker?

I've been grooving so much on the Scotland Yard Gospel Choir the last few days. And some of the best records I've been into lately have been by non-punk/post-punk bands. Am I becoming an indie rocker? Is it possible? Well, there's no fucking scene, just a bunch of people standing around.

Who gives a fuck, really? I likes what I likes. When I start pigeon-holing myself is when I start to miss out on the good stuff.

I could really use a good punk record, though. Anthony had Minor Threat and Bad Brains on when we were doing station packing last night, and I was air-guitarring and singing along the whole while.

Fuck.

Fantabulous!

I stole the Alkaline Trio b-sides set Remains from WNUR. It's not like the Rock Show will add the fucking thing anyway. Whether it makes it to the Fast n Loud stacks, we'll see. Half the songs (the best ones) are already there on the various comps they were originally released on.

I'm following a Tripel Karmeliet with Young's Double Chocolate Stout, and for the first time the chocolate grabs me every time I tip my glass up. Fantabulous!

I was just thinking of my tendency to become self-reflectively moody, and what a fucking rut it can put me in. Sometimes being sad is so much easier than being happy. You don't have to worry about becoming more depressed.

Sleep, and the lack thereof.

I've napped an aggregate of two hours today (or more), most recently in the form of a 75 minute nap in the lounge here at school in the quite possibly mistaken belief that I'd get some work done tonight. I've looked at my little to-do list, and I've knocked a fair amount of stuff off it today during the day, but right now apathy is setting in firmly, especially since I have one patient tomorrow and the rest of the day free.

I woke up before the sun again this morning. At least this time, my alarm was set to 5:25am so it wasn't too much earlier, but I need to work through whatever shit in my head is waking me up so early. I did feel like I slept better last night, though. Maybe it's just lingering nervousness from my censure last week.

My 7am craniofacial lecture this morning was on the psychological implications of craniofacial deformities. Aside from the lecturer's voice being audibly nervous (which surprised me, since she's a clinical psychologist), there were several things which struck me despite my struggles to maintain consciousness.

I started thinking about my cousin John and the way he reacted to his illness, and even what I know is mostly inferred from second-hand reports of what he did and said. Depressing thoughts, especially when I'm already feeling tired and a lack of sleep.

Children with congenital disorders are often treated differently by their parents, even siblings - or maybe especially siblings. This rung true with my experience with Kevin and my parents; even my parents admit they treated us differently, with a greater focus on him. The other point that caught my attention was the development of health care anxiety in the kids that are constantly going from one doctor to another for team care of varying problems; I started wondering how much of that Kevin had. Fortunately for him, he was able to have most of his IVs done at home by the same few nurses, and was lucky enough to mostly just visit his pediatrician and immunologist without requiring extensive physical procedures and surgeries. Still, he did occasionally use his predicament as an excuse to lash out against something.

The lecture also mentioned something about kids not knowing how to cope with social problems. No shit. I sure didn't as a kid. Sometimes I still don't, although I think I tend to avoid the preprogrammed responses I see many of my peers make.

Matt was giving me shit about my phone being old today. I told him he's not the first, but planned obsolescence isn't justification for purchasing an unneeded replacement.

Fuck me.

This week is already the longest week ever, and the sun hasn't even come up on Tuesday morning. Fuck me, I don't know how I'm going to get work done.