9:21 a.m. - 2004-11-22
\"Shit. You Done Messed Up My Dick Hand.\"
Why is it that, on the weekends, you're either running your ass off going hither, thither and yon, or you are at home, SITTING on your ass, playing Jewel Quest and wondering why your friends are lame?
This weekend would be one of those running around ones. I think I've spent a grand total of 8 hours at home, 6 of which were asleep, since Friday night.
My weekend:
Friday evening started with an e-mail. I had made plans to hang out with GID, and I told him that I'd be ready by about 8 or 8:30 (since I needed to go to the gym and oh, bathe afterwards or something.) So, at about 4:50 on Friday afternoon, he sends an e-mail to me at work, asking for an immediate reply. I comply, and then wait. And wait. And wait. I mean, I know he types kinda slow and all, but seriously. It's Friday, and I needed to get the hell out of the office. Plus, due to the incompetence of our parking garage staff, if you don't leave five minutes early, you ain't leaving till 5:30. Finally, by 10 after five, I log on to AIM and find his ass. He starts having a conversation. I cut him off and explain that if he wants to have a conversation in person sometime before 2 a.m., he needs to quit typing so I can get to the gym.
I head over to the Y, do the workout, go home, shower, etc. The plan is for me to call GID when I'm ready and we'll decide where to meet up. (He finally moved out of the mom's house. Can I get a "Hallelujah," brothers and sisters?) I call him when I get back from the gym. We decide to meet at Barnes & Noble and head over to his new apartment.
I take the leisurely shower, remove unwanted hair, and am staring in my closet trying to figure out what can be worn in public when he calls and says he's at Barnes & Noble already because he didn't have a clock in the new place yet. Therefore, he got semi-damp hair, jeans, and a hoodie. I was going to be cute, but cute takes time, kids.
Anyway, the apartment is fairly nice, but has the most godawful teal carpet. He seems to like it, though. No accounting for taste� then we go back to the old place, hang out, and I end up spending the night.
Saturday morning, I go home about 8. Make some coffee, play online, and then call my mother because I haven't talked to her in a month. (This is not normal. I only see my mom a few times a year, but we usually talk on the phone every week or so.) She confirms my suspicion that her job has been hell, my stepfather has been a pain in the ass, etc. Once I hang up with her, BFRB and I head to the Y. On the way in, we come up with the plan to go to the mall afterward. Foolishly, we believe that since this is the weekend BEFORE the major retail push, the mall will be okay. Sure. And the monkey wings are flapping, just trying their hardest to fly out my ass.
Flash forward to home, 2:30-ish. Shower time. For everyone in the building. Two seconds of lukewarm water were followed by varying degrees of freezing. When we're leaving to go to the mall, we see our new neighbor in the hall. She was showering, as was my immediate neighbor. Guess everyone had Saturday afternoon plans, or something.
The mall was packed, I kind of stole a parking space, and we spent money. Not much, though�.good deals were had by all. I probably can't afford to be shopping, but I probably can't stand any of the shit in my closet, either.
Get back from the mall & head to CL's house for the movie party. The exit to get to her house contains a truck stop on every corner. On Saturday night, there was a freakin' convoy. The exit was backed up on BOTH sides of the interstate with wall-to-wall trucks. It was kind of scary�especially since some friends and I saw a wreck there one night (a semi tried to sneak around a car, and he was too big to be sneaky. It only caused some minor damage, but of course, me and the other paralegals in the car knew the importance of witnesses to accidents. We also tell them to call the highway patrol and not the city police. Do they listen? No. We wait an hour for the cops, and they just tell us to call the highway patrol. Super.) It didn't take as long as I thought it would to get through the semi-slalom course, but it was nerve-wracking. Good thing CL had a selection of libations to soothe my troubled soul.
We drink, we eat, and we pop in the movie Phone Booth. Kind of lame, really, but it did have one good line�.which we repeated over and over�"Shit. He done messed up my dick hand."
CL is the hostess with the mostess. Plenty of pillows, blankets, and soft places to sleep, and she had coffee and cinnamon rolls waiting in the morning.
Okay, we're to Sunday at 11 a.m. I had made plans to hang out with BFRB2, and on Saturday when we discussed our plans, she made noises about furniture shopping. (She needs a new computer desk, and she said she's not buying any more furniture that comes in a box�.so this wasn't just a "run to Target" type thing.) By Sunday morning, I would have rather jammed a sharpened pencil in my eye than go shopping. Luckily, we were on the same page here. JS came over, we ate, we smoked, we watched movies, we napped, we ate ice cream, and we watched some stupid TV. And BFRB2 let me wear my PJ pants to her house, so life was good.
When I drag my tired and still slightly buzzed ass home, BFRB says we're going to the Evil Empire. She has to make some dip for Turkey Day, and like we have any food in either one of our houses?? When we get there, there are checkers everywhere, it's not crowded, and we actually delude ourselves into thinking this won't be so bad.
[Laughs hysterically. Wipes eyes. Shakes head.]
By the time we got done placing every item at Wal-Mart in our carts, there were no open cashiers. As usual. Not to mention, I believe we collectively bought about $225 worth of shit, and I'm not sure we have anything but snacky food. At least we're not the only ones�.
So now, it's Monday. I'm so glad it's a three-day week. After the last three days, I need a weekend, dude.
