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2004-02-09 - 6:25 p.m. Wraslin' Fever Sick again. Okay, that was a bad beginning, but I kind of pride myself at bad beginnings. I had so much fun at the WWE show. It was held at the Saitama Super Arena, a relatively new stadium, and it showed. The train station built just for it is the one one Andrea, the housemate, Isao, Andie's boyfriend, and I have ever seen that was not crowded in by houses and stores. The land around the place was suprisingly empty, the the space of the station itself was, well, very spacious. It even had this great lighting scheme: blue lights in the trees, and ambient blues and oranges glowing in random locations. I want to visit sometime in the spring, when it's warmer, and stare at those lights for a while. I screamed myself hoarse at the show. Nevermind that I was seated at the very top of the 400-level (kind of), and I would have needed a telescpoe to see the blood that Shawn started bleeding half-way through his match. I screamed out names and jeers until the very end (except for the match between Test and Rico. I wasn't too interested in it.) There was a family of three right in front of us (Andie, Isao, me), and the father, with his white knit cap, kept looking back and leaning away. It's not my fault that his ticket forced him to sit right in front of me. It's not my fault that God blessed me with a very big voice. It's not my fault that we were sitting so high. If I had my way, I would have gotten the best seats in the house. Unfortunately, a couple of sumo wrestlers took all twenty. Each. Okay, that was a terrible joke. At least, as far as my delusional sense of pride puts it, I was heard by someone. Especially when it came to the last match. I had the urge to cheer for Triple H, and I did, but I yelled out 'Hunter', not, say, 'Triple H'. And, I swear, I started a damn trend, for a couple minutes afterwards, I heard others call out 'Hunter' in that cute Japanese accent. And I was the first. Take that, white-knit papa. So I had a great time, we ate at Denny's afterwards, and took the last train home afterwards. We didn't get home till maybe 1:30, with the cold in full force and the moon full and shining eerily. And then I got sick. I realized it yesterday, while I was giving my room a deep overhaul (moved the table, put up stickers, bagged all my laundery, actually vacuumed, and other things.) I kept getting tired and I stopped for food, breakfast at 2 in the afternoon, thinking that my fatigue was because I really don't like cleaning much. Too much work. No, I was sick, I realized in the end, and crawled my ass into bed sometime after 7. I read in bed a Murakami book, mostly because I knew that if I played a game on my cell, my mind would stay on it all night. I also could have continued the scarf I'm 'knitting', but I didn't feel like that either. So I read my book, and around 8:30, finally turned off the light and tried to fall asleep. But, as you probably know, fevers and exhaustion can do strange things. I spent a god-awfully long time, tossing and turning as my mind stayed obsessed with something from the god-damned book. It was some time passed midnight that I popped some ibuprofen for the fever, and the headache, before I fell asleep right. And if you read this far, I am very happy. But, at the same time, I apologize. As soon as this last lesson is through, I'm going home to pop some more ibu and head to bed. My head hurts something awful. The Past - Guestbook - The Future, Too |