Back to the farm
I headed to my hometown this weekend with Milo. I had a dental appointment on Friday and Milo and I both had haircuts on Saturday. I realize that I could probably get these sorts of things taken care of in the big city of Indy, but I'm partial to my dentist, my hair dresser, and my dog groomer. And besides that, my friends at home are of the old, childhood kind, the bar we frequent usually under-charges me by about half, and I really like my parents very much. It's a great place to visit about every four or five weeks to clear the mind of all the crap I normally put into it.
It was a relatively quiet weekend, and that's not unusual around there. The most excitement I had was getting my eyebrows waxed and having some funky reaction that made my eyes all red and puffy. Luckily, I had this done on Saturday after I'd gone out on the town on Friday.
Anyhow, Friday late afternoon I met up with my friends at the one downtown bar/restaurant where we weren't likely to run into Mr. Ex-Amanda, where we pretty much know everyone else, and where we can drink for cheap, gossip about the local politics, and listen to retro-80s tunes courtesy of my friend, Mark, who always takes over the jukebox and only plays music from his high school days, circa 1985. As usual, we had a blast, laughed too loud, caught up on who's sleeping with who, got a bit dirty, got a bit catty, did a couple of shots in honor of upcoming birthdays, and then called it an early night. I was home just as the 11 o'clock news came on, and I'm not sure what else to say about that. We considered getting drunk-beautiful and hitting the karoke bar down the block, but opted to forego the hangover feeling like you want to die the next morning. That probably was a good choice, given the next day's eyebrow fiasco.
Saturday, we had family dinner night. My dad fired up the grill in the snow, and I made some killer twice-baked potatoes. Sunday, I went to church with the Ps and then headed back home. Sorry to disappoint any readers looking for anything illicit or reeking of smut from my weekend (i.e., Charles). My life has gotten so comfortably normal lately that I might have to dig in the archives again for something a bit more exciting :)
It was a relatively quiet weekend, and that's not unusual around there. The most excitement I had was getting my eyebrows waxed and having some funky reaction that made my eyes all red and puffy. Luckily, I had this done on Saturday after I'd gone out on the town on Friday.
Anyhow, Friday late afternoon I met up with my friends at the one downtown bar/restaurant where we weren't likely to run into Mr. Ex-Amanda, where we pretty much know everyone else, and where we can drink for cheap, gossip about the local politics, and listen to retro-80s tunes courtesy of my friend, Mark, who always takes over the jukebox and only plays music from his high school days, circa 1985. As usual, we had a blast, laughed too loud, caught up on who's sleeping with who, got a bit dirty, got a bit catty, did a couple of shots in honor of upcoming birthdays, and then called it an early night. I was home just as the 11 o'clock news came on, and I'm not sure what else to say about that. We considered getting drunk-beautiful and hitting the karoke bar down the block, but opted to forego the hangover feeling like you want to die the next morning. That probably was a good choice, given the next day's eyebrow fiasco.
Saturday, we had family dinner night. My dad fired up the grill in the snow, and I made some killer twice-baked potatoes. Sunday, I went to church with the Ps and then headed back home. Sorry to disappoint any readers looking for anything illicit or reeking of smut from my weekend (i.e., Charles). My life has gotten so comfortably normal lately that I might have to dig in the archives again for something a bit more exciting :)
posted by Amanda at 3:24 PM
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