When you go long enough without posting, it stops occuring to you to do so. Oh well. I think pretty soon I'm going to give up on the online journaling thing and return to writing in hand. I met this girl in a coffee shop last week, and we started talking about the perfect journal. It has to have perfectly spaced and printed lines, or no lines at all. It has to be spiral bound or have a really worn cover so that it can lay flat. There's other requirements too, but these are the most important. I think her boyfriend was laughing at the fact that she found someone who actually was interested in talking to her for 20 minutes about journal requirements.
I'm mostly just amused that I actually met a stranger that I had no connection to. How weird! These days I feel like I'm incapable of meeting and cultivating a relationship with anyone who's not in lawyering group 8--and I'm not even great at cultivating relationships with those peeps.
I was supposed to go to halloween party with Ames last night. I was actually pretty excited about it, but I woke up with a horrible pain in my neck and a sore throat. Chris, the third roommate as of late, informed me that that is exactly how his illness began. So, coming to the conclusion that the neck pain was more likely a virus than a football injury, I decided it would be a good idea to laze around all day. So I did. So no party for me.
Today I at least managed to leave the house to go to the store, so that was an accomplishment.
So, fun facts about where I live. My building was either built in 1927 or earlier. The first certificate of occupation I can find is from 1927, which looks to be from a new building, but I also found reference to a marraige license for a resident of this building in 1913. I suppose it's possible that there was a different building in 1913. But that's not the creepy part.
In 2000, there was a fire in this building, and a girl died. 17 people were also injured, and the owner of the building was accused of arson (although he was subsequently acquitted). I'm pretty sure that we're the first people to live in the building since said fire. Thankfully for my psyche, the girl died on the second floor, and I live on the first floor. I have to admit, searching for legislation related to a fire in my building is a whole helluva lot cooler than researching the possible consequences of being involved in a money laundering transaction.