Check In

Day 2 of drip drops in my bedroom baby brown eye balls, as my Persnickety Pink Eye Experience endures. I drip drops 4 times a day. At this writing I got one more to drip for the day. In all honestly I do see a difference. My right eye is almost clear, while my left tries to catch up.

Pink eye.

Never had it.

Never want it again.

Made sure I kept to myself at work day. Hand washed. Sanitized. My house should get such treatment.

Red and some shades of pink, I do look quite divine in. However, not when my bedroom baby browns make me the star of some D+ Sci fi flick, "Brown Sugar's Perilous Pink X-ray Peepers.

Ain't really feelin' none of that.

So on this night, more snow falls in Dallas, the utility company did get my check in the night depository from last night, so water still runs in my bungalow (and yes, I still drank my 74 oz of water during work today), I'm headed to my purple jammies and then plop on the couch.

Got Blue Bell Caramel Turtle Fudge Ice Cream to ease the Perisnickity Pink Eye Experience-plus today's Young and the Restless episode--just WHO is Tucker McCall?

Life is good.

December 26, 1976 was Sunday

No church then, yet the Gospel According to Hangover was! The night before, which had been Christmas, a festive party was held in our hometown. Oh, I didn't throw it, but a couple of older guys did--at our town's Legion Hall. No doubt the Legion Hall, known for the dance instructor who taught there for decades and bingo nights on others, hadn't seen anything like this! I was of legal age to drink, yet not so wise in the all the ways of the world--yet. I partied pretty hard. And kept my Kiss List intact.

So on this Sunday, my 5th Street Friend and I took a drive around town and sat at the park, to catch up what happened to who the night before. To read these diary pages now, I can see "Clueless" was our middle name. Nonetheless, we'd had a good time. Thought we were grown. Eventho this guy I was smoochin' with--you know how parties can be, especially when the Pabst Blue Ribbon overflows. --I called him by the WRONG name. I laughed it off. He didn't.

Like I said: Clueless

As I read on in my diary, I some how got another chum, Taxi, to deliver a gift I'd purchased for the true man of my dreams, IC (which stand for Ice Cream). Not sure how/why that happened. We drive to his house and Taxi goes up to IC's front door--this was about 11pm-to deliver the present. I watch as IC answers the door and in just a few seconds I see him shut the door. Taxi trots back to the car-empty handed. She reported as she gave IC the present, she announced I was pissed (pissed about what, I didn't write down) and IC slammed the door in Taxi's face. At least, he had my present, I rationalized...

And what was said present for the man of my dreams who thought me less of a day dream? A gift set of BRUT. I felt him worthy.

Like I said: Clueless

Let's go back to the party the night before. The band, all classmates of mine, shouted out how this song they were about to serenade us with was dedicated to me! Love IT! :