Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Beer and Plastic Sports

Let me preface this all by saying that I recently went in search of, and uncovered, an old Canon Rebel EOS G camera that I bought for Russell back in the day before digital cameras became the "thing" (btw, I'm old). It's a beautiful little camera that has somehow lived through my husband's neglect and circumstantial abuse in immaculate condition- after I cleaned off all of the laundry detergent that had slowly dripped onto it while it lay forgotten in the laundry room for the past several years. It takes awesome pictures. What this means is that I will someday have awesome pictures to post! It also means that right NOW, I have a couple rolls of film sitting, forgotten, in my purse and no recent pictures to insert in this blog entry. You'll have to live with what you get. Someday, though? What you get will be awesome pictures. I may be jumping the gun, I am an idiot as far as photography.


This is one of my favorite pictures. Sometimes I do all right.

Anyway, THREE DAY WEEKEND! Was it really three days? It felt so short.

Saturday, I seemed to be getting sick, and spent most of the day lazing around and blowing off all of the productive plans I'd made in favor of grumbling and feeling run down. Russell worked, and when he came home, he had a little pink bag from Victoria's Secret with some lovely lingerie for me! It wasn't racy stuff, just basics that I hadn't afforded myself in some time now.  The biggest reason I hadn't is that I am trying to lose some sizes right now. Luckily, he bought everything for the size I was 5 years ago, so I have something to aspire to! In all honesty, though, it was a sweet gesture and I greatly appreciate it. I will appreciate it even more once I can wear it : ). At least it's flattering that he apparently sees me as much smaller than I actually am.

Sunday, I was suddenly feeling 100% again. Shortest sickness ever. I went to Target and dropped a painful amount of money on formula and diapers and then decided to just rip off the bandaid and did our grocery shopping afterwards. The cashier carded me for the white wine I was buying for french onion soup, and I thanked her because I'm entering the OMGTHIRTYISCOMING stage. She then proceeded to turn me every color of red and puce by going on and on about how in person, I look half the age that I do in my driver's license photo and I've got such a great complexion (if you think tomatoes are attractive?) blah blah blah. For a second, I had to wonder if she was somehow getting commission on my groceries and if she was trying to get me to spend more.

Later that evening, after both of our kids napped (!!!! I know! But they keep staggering them so we actually only get an hour or so of peace) we packed up and went to Outback Steakhouse for filet. We made the mistake of being talked into wood-fire ribeyes, though, and both ended up somewhat disappointed. Zoey spent the hour dropping things on the floor over and over (and. over.) again and charming all the waitresses into stopping and picking them up (and. over.). Riley couldn't even be persuaded into eating by the promise of ice cream. When we got home, despite being stupidly full, we took our beer outside into the humidity and heat to play whiffle ball with Riley. That was the highlight of my weekend. Despite being bloated with beer and red meat, and covered with an instant mist of sweat, Russell and I had so much fun playing in our yard. Riley and Zoey mostly sat around and watched us act like overgrown, clumsy children. It reminded me of when my dad and brothers and I would gather outside for an impromptu game of "baseball", which was always one of my favorite things to do. We stayed outside until we realized it was time for Zoey to go to bed, and then filtered in with smiles on our faces.


Kinda what I'm talking about. 'Cept no pool or wine or bathing suits.

The rest of the weekend was stuffed full of productivity. I barely sat down at all yesterday, but my material life is better for it. It is starting to look like we actually LIVE in our house now, instead of gypsy wanderers passing through with labeled cardboard boxes instead of wagons. One thing that seemed to be the soundtrack of the weekend was BBC's "Top Gear", a car show- oh, but it's not JUST a car show. I initially dismissed it as such, but once I watched an episode, I was hooked. Those guys are freaking HILARIOUS!!!! The downside is that I think I honestly have the potential to become a car snob if I allow myself to get too into it.

Before I leave you, since I'm on the topic of cars, can I make a request to the driving world at large? I have been officially driving on my own for exactly 3 months and two weeks now, and that makes me an expert. I know that the gas pedal makes the car 'Go'. You may laugh, but I am 98% sure that at least half the population doesn't know that.

Quit riding your brakes. It is the opposite of 'Go'ing, which defeats the purpose of being in a car. Try the OTHER pedal. My commute thanks you.

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