9/23 Morning Update

Hi Everybody,

Photo from Ann Carpenter

We couldn't get her to shake the hiccups last night, we tried everything: breathing into a paper bag, standing upside down while gargling water, scaring them out. They did eventually go away, probably because Courtney had had enough of them and wanted to go back to sleep. She kept me in a loving vice grip with her strengthened left hand. Her grip is tighter and she's been closing her mouth more freely.

I sat with her for a bit as she slept and chilled with Mow Mow. That cat's got some crazy stories, she told me her mom used to party with Roosevelt's Teddy Bears at the white house. It was like Studio 54 for stuffed animals back in the early 1900's.

A couple of folks have asked how long Courtney and I have known each other and how we met, its not much of a story, but I guess it's better than meeting in a library or in a bar.

The first time I met Courtney Blasius she was asleep. She had firmly staked her claim on a burgundy couch-like chair in the living room of a friend's house on Cedar Street. This would have been an entirely appropriate napping environment had there not been twelve of her friends sitting around drinking PBR, playing Foosball and speaking in loud drunkenly tones on Friday night.

I had known Amber, who lived at the house, through her boyfriend Cyrus who knew my friend Craig who was my roommate in college (Burlington is great for getting to meet people, you make two or three friends and eventually you can link yourself to half the city). Throughout the drinking games and conversation I kept checking back with the sleepy girl in the corner. No one was drawing all over her in permanent marker, so she wasn't passed out from drinking. Somebody mentioned she had been driving for a few hours as the reason she was tired, maybe she had climbed a mountain or wrestled a bear in her spare time to boot.

It came time to leave, not to go home and stop drinking, but to go downtown and drink more. Amber and a few friends had been yelling at Courtney to wake her up, trying to convince her to come downtown. I landed the decisive blow when I nudged her leg with my foot until she got up and asked who the hell I was. Her eyes were now open, she had been hiding some pretty blue ones while sleeping in the corner.

The night got later and we wound up in a bar called Plan B, a hipster hangout with monotype prints on the walls and overpriced drinks. I asked Courtney what type of drink she'd like (I promise that a fair amount of schmoozing preceded this question, Court's not the type to take drinks from random guys). I had pegged her for a rum and coke or a beer drinker.

"A whiskey and Red Bull," she said.

"In the same glass?" I thought to myself.

I ordered her drink and my now seemingly-tame beer, I would be sure not to confuse the two pint glasses on the walk back to our seats. She told me all about her trip to Belize, her skin was still bronze from the trip, (I thought I had been dating a Latina girl for the first few months) I could tell she really loved it there. Courtney was graduating in two days, but wanted to staying Burlington for another year or so to be with friends. Not only did she have a great group of friends, but she was really active, liked to travel and had larger personal goals. She was unique in my mind and she made laugh.

I'm not sure how I wound up piggybacking Courtney back to her apartment, I believe she placed my machismo in question, saying I couldn't carry her the entire length of Elmwood Avenue up to Cedar Street. We made it back to the front door, me hiding my heavy breathing. We did the awkward teenager-thing where you talk for too long, fiddling with screen door and the banister, waiting for a pause... and kiss. You don't get more than a handful of moments like that in life. We said goodbye and I headed off to my apartment, a good ten blocks away in the opposite direction.

The fatal mistake that Courtney made that night was giving me her cell number and agreeing to go the breakfast with me next morning, which concurrently led to future mistakes (some call them "dates").

That's enough from me, I would like to hear from some other folks. What was the first time you met Courtney? What did you learn about her?

We Love you Courtney and we can't wait to have you back safe and sound.

-Sean