Monday, April 11, 2011

Weekend in Review: 4/11/11

Rhea and I had a great weekend – the kind that maybe you don’t have as much time for as you get older, but you appreciate even more than ever because it doesn’t happen all the time anymore.  Every now and then I begin to feel like old bones – being in your mid thirties instead of your early ones can do that for you – but then I get out the door and into some trouble, and I realize that there’s so much more ahead of me than behind.  If this paragraph sounds more like an Oprah pitch than the snark-and-substance cocktail I usually serve up, I apologize only so long as she’s not reading.  The second she sees this stuff and wants to bring me on board for promotion, I will sell out faster than Cabbage Patch Kids back in the 1983 holiday season.  This kid’s got to get paid y’see, and if that causes you any cognitive dissonance then mayhaps now’s a good time to bail and find another blog to favorite.  You know, before we get too close and all that messy stuff.

Where were we before that mighty, mighty digression?  Right, cocktails and last weekend; Friday night involved many with some old friends who live up the line a bit.  I guess there’s no really good story here; just a lot of laughs and a completely drama-free experience where no one had to drive anywhere.  Just what I’m always looking for in a night out, truth be told.  I can tell you that the game Loaded Questions is like an inside-joke generator in and of itself, and that I’m far better at Trivial Pursuit after a few hours of libations than I am stone cold sober.  I don’t understand it myself, but this is not the first time it has happened.  If Ben Bailey ever picks me up in the Cash Cab, I hope to god that I’m walking out of a bar when he does it.  Not crawling, mind you, but walking.

The next day, all of us headed off to a family function: a two year old’s birthday party.  It was odd for Rhea to attend one of these strictly as a guest, but she settled into the relaxation aspect of things eventually.  For my part, I got a far better understanding of why she’s often so tired right after performing at one of these parties: those kids are indefatigable.  Even the presence of a pony didn’t slow them down for all that long; actually, I think Rhea may have been more excited about the pony than any of the kiddies, but that’s another story.  The food was brought in from a well-known Greek place in the area.  I’d never tried Greek food before, but the price was right.  Turns out lamb is delicious, and that this tidbit is going to prove more germane to the story of our weekend than it seems right now.  Digress?  Moi?  Not a chance, dear readers.  The kids finally wound down and we said our goodbyes; time to head home, then, via Grandma’s Restaurant.  Home of the best Chicken Pot Pie in the land, for those of you so inclined, and one of ‘em is good for about three meals, provided you won’t be appearing on Celebrity Fit Club anytime soon.

Before calling it a night, we decided to drop by the Borders where we both worked several lifetimes ago.  It’s one of the stores that’s liquidating and shutting down; seeing that Borders emails have been coming faster-and-furiouser in the last few days, we thought this might be the last weekend for our old haunt, and as such some last respects were in order.  It turns out they’ve got another week or so to go, and we’ll probably touch base one more time before the end, but it was a surreal sight.  It deserves more than the passing glace I’m giving it in this weekend-in-review, and I’ll probably eulogize it in full sometime soon, but for now suffice it to say that the air was thick with ghosts.  Overall, though, I left in high spirits, heart lifted by the thought of all the good people I’d been fortunate to meet during my time between those walls.  I also left with the Aqua Teen Hunger Force Christmas CD, Have Yourself a Meaty Little Christmas; for the princely sum of two whole dollars, ‘twas irresistible.

To sleep, then, perchance to dream – and also perchance to wake up on Sunday with a digestive system that did not enjoy the lamb nearly as much as my taste buds had.  One of my self-improvement resolutions for this year has been to expand my palate, so that I might be as happy to try things Rhea might care to explore as she is to indulge my penchant for Five Guys.  Unfortunately, this particular attempt proved unsuccessful, but the grander experiment continues.

Soppy and Oprah-esque though it may be, it is generally far more fun to say “yes” than “no”, temporary stomach ailments and American Idol ruminations or none.  Oh, and while I’m at it, don’t be a don’t-bee!

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