Yeah, yeah, yeah…I’m on vacation. I’ve been reading, but not writing…so sue me. Well, not really. It’s just an expression. Besides, I have no money…so there.
It’s been a busy week. I started doing Tae Bo again. Billy is kicking my ass. Hopefully it will combat the cheating I have done. Friday, I met my friend Slone at Friday’s (oh the irony!). We stayed a long time…perhaps pissing off our server. But, we tipped him well, and by the time we pissed him off, we had no food for him to spit in. Then we went to the dollar store to pick up some stuff for her school spirit week. We had an overflowing cart full of stuff. We started pulling stuff from the cart and onto the checkout counter, hoping someone would show up to ring us up. We ran out of room on the counter, and a long line formed. Finally a very disgruntled clerk showed up. I really felt for the people in line behind us, but we were there first. We could have been all good-samaritan-y and let people go in front of us, but the line was long, and that would have been a lot of people. Then, we retired to her home. Her hubby played games, and we talked. Her sil and fiance came, and us ladies talked about our cats. For multiple hours. Yes, we are old. We were planning on going to the bar originally, but talking about cats took over.
Yesterday, I met Troll (what I call her, affectionately, mind you) for breakfast. Not enough time for all our catching up, as usual. All this time I thought she knew I was neurotic, but she thought I was only quirky. Now she knows why I can relate to Adrian Monk. Last night, I went to The Bride’s bachelorette party. After waiting for a long time to eat, I ate white bread. It was good…not great…but I was starving. I was only mildly annoyed when the waitress came back to our table and says to me, “I’m sorry, we don’t have Irish coffee…would you like a Spanish coffee?” First, I thought to myself, “WTF mate?” Then said something to the effect of, “It’s just whiskey in coffee?” (I mentally added the sugar, which I could handle myself…and that I don’t like cream). She sounded mystified that I would want whiskey in coffee…but she brought it, I added some Equal, and I was happy and warm. We then went to a bar. Not a club, a bar. It was weird to me, because the last time I was at the place, it was a nice restaurant…but now it’s a bar. Anyhow, we got a free round of drinks. There was karaoke (and not that I’m a karaoke snob or anything…but it wasn’t a good karaoke setup). I sang “Baby got back” For the Bride, and “Because I got High.” Some old toothless man was hitting on me, as well as an older toothed man who wanted me to sing a duet from “Grease.”
Ed note: I hate Grease. I like John Travolta, but I seriously have to wonder what crack he was smoking to have made the film version. Call me unamerican…but that’s the way I feel.
I eventually sang “Faith” and “Wrong Way” and there was discussion at our table about being able to do cheerleading stunts we could do in high school. I mentioned that I could still do the splits, and leg pulls. Some weird guy overheard me, and bet me $10 that I couldn’t do a leg pul. I asked him, “you’re saying you’ll give me $10 to pull my leg up to my head??” He said yes, slapping a ten onto the table. I did it and pocketed the ten (at which point he tried to say there were stipulations) So he asks each of us if we’re married…he proceeds to tell us that he’s married, then goes to sing a song and starts asking if any single women are interested in getting with a married man…between that and the scary toothless man who continued to hit on me…it was our cue to leave. That and we still had partying to do at a fellow bridesmaid’s house. Highlights included eating penis cake, and being guessed to be 21. The only drawback to the evening (outside of toothless man) was getting my Dad’s truck out of it’s parking spot…well, that and my coat still smells like smoke.
Tonight it was out to Ruby Tuesday’s with my old twirling buddies. I’ll leave it at we don’t get together often, and we stayed for five hours, thus closing the restaurant.
I miss G immensely…but fortunately, I brought a kitty with me. My parents’ cat hates me, so it’s working. Plus, G doesn’t have to worry about Crush eating our other cat’s prescription food. (Crush is a serious fatty) Speaking of which…remind me to tell you the story of Fred, my parents’ cat. Despite the fact that he hates me, he’s a neat cat.
For now, my boring self is going to bed.