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When I came in on Monday morning the message light was lit up on my phone. Not too unusual since I had Friday off and not everyone keeps track of my random vacation days. So I expected a brief message from K-dub or some other coworker who didn't know I wasn't in. I did not expect this:

"Hello, [unintelligible name]. Hey, you there? C'mon, pick up the phone, bitch. Where's my money at? Where the fuck my money at? You there, right bitch? That bitch ain't there. Allright. Call me back, bitch."

The incredulous "that bitch ain't there?!" is my favorite. That and the little kid you can hear in the background.

I did not make it to the Naughty Marni party on Thursday. From what I hear it was an insane time and Ryan's boss was a huge hit. As always. There was something wrong with my eye all day Thursday and when I woke up on Friday it looked like someone had beaten the crap outta me. A sty! On my eye! How crazy lucky I had the day off because man was I hideous. K-dub called me around 11am to share the Crazy Boy update ("He's just not that into me.") and she had no advice, only mockery. Then I called my mommy who also had no treatment ideas. I call bullshit on being too old to have your mom able to help you. So I gave up and called Ryan and asked him to call his Dad, the pharmacist, who's been my source of all medical advice for the past 6 years.

Ryan reported back that Iowan Pharmacist Dad said whatever I do, don't buy any over-the-counter Sty-Be-Gone remedy, as they're all snake oil. The only cure for a sty is time apparently and all I should and could do would be to soak a washcloth in hot ("as hot as you can stand it!") water and apply to the sty eye 4 or 5 times a day. How fucking primitive. Have we no technology for this? Both K-dub and my mom asked if this was like the "Iowa way" of sty treatment. As if in Iowa, they're still prescribing citrus fruit or a good leeching.

So I spent my Friday off watching terrible movie after terrible movie on various cable channels with a scaldingly hot towel on my eye. By the end of the day I told K-dub the puffiness has gone down but I burned off the skin on the left side of my face. I'm so pretty!

Saturday was Kardyhm's Bon Voyage party at The Edge. The party was tons of fun (as was delicious dinner beforehand at 'inoteca) but nearly ended with bodily harm. The Edge has apparently become the new Hells Angels' hangout bar, now that their bar closed down. Lovely Irish SalesGal and I ended up in a very long ultimately Not Good conversation with a bunch of them. I don't know what all happened exactly but around 3am as LISG put it, "Suddenly I became very aware that we should go. Immediately." Yikes.

Speaking of bon voyage, K-dub and I are making plans to visit Kardyhm in Switzerland. K-dub has never been to Europe so we want to see as much as possible in 10-14 days. One of our original plans was a Switzerland-Germany-Italy triangle, with possible Boat to Croatia option. That would have been enough to make me happier than I've ever been. Then this new woman at work said "Oh, I'm going to be working at the Olympics in Greece next summer. You have to come there too."

Here's the thing: I learned the alphabet, I suffered through breathings, accents and the aorist fucking tense, I stared at amphora after amphora in an overly warm classroom in the late afternoon. I DESERVE to go to Greece. I really do. I am so excited about this. Now I just have to lose 400 lbs, save 5 million dollars and learn French, Italian and Modern Greek. No problem. We'd appreciate any and all travelling tips, Greek or otherwise. I already know that Switzerland is its own country and where Liechtenstein is, but I need tips, all kinds of tips. Holla.

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