The Perfect Friday

Here are some pictures of Tristan in his birthday hat. As you can tell, he is not pleased--he even walked away from us. He says, "I'm older than Methuselah; I don't have to put up with this bullshit." This afternoon was that kind of perfect day where you didn't even notice the temperature. A slight breeze with the sun on our faces, and the grass is blazing green from the rains. The kind of day where we knew we had to humiliate Tristan with birthday pictures almost 3 weeks after the fact. Damn rains getting in the way of us embarrassing our oldest. After shaking us off, we let him rub around in the rosemary and lavender bushes. I can smell his neck all day after coming back from being outside. If I rub my hand on the rosemary bush, he'll lick my palm; so I guess the feeling is mutual.

The most painful part of my day, was the usual morning routine (including shaving, gah). I knew it was going to be a slow day at work, but it was even better than I could imagine: NO TWIT! My boss is on vacation, and without Twit, I had the whole section of the office to myself. Sure, I did some work. I turned the Xerox on and off a couple of times (versus sending out more emails about advising the Xerox needs more Prozac) to get it to work, and I scanned 83 pages. Yes, 83 pages! The sweat on my brow was magnificent, glowing with hard labor. I also answered some emails, and just now I realize that I forgot to send an email. Ah well, I will seriously try to not let it ruin my weekend.

Ex-cop came in with a story that he was eating at a bbq joint yesterday, and he swears up and down that he was sitting next to Vanilla Ice (or if you prefer, since it was pointed out to me that he is a professional artist now and prefers to go by Rob Van Winkle--a very serious name indeed!). We then looked up pictures of Mr. Van Winkle, and Ex-cop keeps excitingly exclaiming, "yeah, yeah" at each picture in his Southern cop drawl. I asked if he had "Wide Open" across his knuckles, but it seems Ex-cop didn't bother to get closer and suss out the situation. What kind of fucking cop is he if he can't even identify someone successfully? Someone who had clear markings to make identification even easier. Geez. Therefore, I cannot say with any confidence that Mr. Ice is in town. That makes me a bit depressed.

The rest of the day I spent working on a Chicken Day gift for my aunt and The Boy's mom. I won't post what it is on here so as not to ruin a surprise, but it definitely kept me completely engrossed. A slight dip in my mood happened during a lunchtime visit to the doctor, where a) I forgot cash for the parking attendant, and b) I had been dropped from the schedule. Then my mood improved when I realized I could stop obsessing over my lack-of-cash problem, because I could just reschedule and get out of there before my free 30 minutes expired. Problem solved! Sure, I lost my lunch break to a stupid error, when I could have spent that hour reading outside in the great weather.

I left at quarter to 4pm, and the traffic was light, and I was going as fast I can so I could check the mail. USPS and Amazon.com promised that I would have a book I have been waiting for since I first heard of its release date. Sometimes USPS lies to me. When I got home and didn't see a package, I got angry and said several negative things about the whole USPS organization. Right before I picked up the phone and gave them the what for, I happened to look under a pile of The Boy's papers (he loves his piles...no, not those kind of piles thankfully). Sure, it totally looked like it was his, but I felt I should probably make sure first. Good thing I did, and saved some poor USPS' employee's precious ears and sensibilities. Ripped open the package, and immediately started reading. Yes, that's how excited I am. I am currently in the middle of Dave Eggers' "What is the What," and sure it is good, maybe not as good as many people have raved, but this new book has to be read now! It is my sole plan for this rainy weekend. That's right kids, it was shipped to me before street date, but I had to wait for today due to Amazon only thinking it is important to get Harry Potter books to my house on the release date. The couch and I will be busy making sweet love to Audrey Niffenegger's "Her Fearful Symmetry." Yes! Here's to not being disappointed by her first book being too perfect to live up to.

Then on to the best part where I got to play with Mexican Giantess (ha, take that missy). Traffic delayed her getting to me, but we just missed out on cocktail hour, and went straight to the picture show. Time Traveler's Wife disappeared from all theaters today (I get her new book, but no movie), so I chose Bright Star for us. An excellent choice if you are considering the same. It was like little pretty vignettes strung together to make a bittersweet love story. Since we had skipped dinners, our stomachs were duking it out to see which one could growl louder during the many quiet, soft moments during the movie. Which of course led to some giggling fits by us. We are very mature and smoke a lot of crack to stave off the hunger pains. After the movie, we considered for a moment to dine at one of the fine glass bistro tables in the lobby. I always take MG to the classiest of place; you know, like a movie theater trying to get fancy with its multicolored carpet and garish posters with bistro tables and little vases with yellow flowers. However, we did not want to eat popcorn, but we also did not know what we did want to eat. Remember yesterday how I mentioned we like to suck the life out of things, I so wasn't lying. Being hungry though, meant we did not have as much time to debate the finer points between several chain restaurants around the theater. We did wonder, briefly, at a stop sign (and yes, there was someone I blocked behind me), what the Cheesecake Factory served, if anything, beside cheesecake, and would it be open past 9pm? It seemed to risky, so I saw a Tex-Mex place, and we knew they'd be open past 9pm, because those people know how to party all night long, generally with Tecate and Bud Lite. After wading through a large group of old ladies wearing matching black shirts that said, "Happy Birthday" in silver sequins. Some were obviously intoxicated and most were confused. I ended up holding the door for 4 of them while I was outside looking for the hours of operation, and not a single one of those old ladies said "thank you." Bitches. Yet, I'm the one who is constantly judged for my sparkling wit (read; sarcasm) and multiple tattoos. I did the right thing and yelled after them, "and a 'you're welcome' ladies!"

The dinner was the normal chit-chat that MG and I engage in, which I swore I would not repeat here. Though, it really is a shame that I cannot repeat some of the things that were said. It is just a damn shame. It's all very juicy. I'm very glad we finally got to spend some time together, even if she is mad at me for putting stickers all over my car that has actual blue-book value. I just couldn't help myself. I have compulsions that I cannot be held accountable for, or at least not until my medication starts working.

I'm actually up later than The Boy, and until this Benadryl I just took kicks in, I will be reading. Don't be surprised if tomorrow I report I woke up on the couch with 3 cats staring at me as if waiting for me to stop breathing so they could start eating me. Thanks cats. I love you, too.