Weekend Redux
I am currently holding back an intense urge to run over to Best Buy and get myself a digital camera so I can take pictures of the daffodils in my front yard. Seriously, folks - they totally kick ass, and I didn't even have to plant them myself. They are huge, giant-sized daffodils, and some of them are white with bright orange middles. Orange!
Also, I wanted to take pictures of the two new babies (yes, horses again) that were born this weekend up at home. Although not nearly as fabulous as my sister's new baby, these two - a filly and a colt - were pretty darn cute. And I got to see them within 24 hours of being born, which made them all wobbley on their legs and goofy-looking, too. Adorable stuff right there.
So yeah. Flowers and horses. This weekend has been a variation on last weekend's theme, including all the pesky studying hanging over my head.
Friday night, I hit the local watering hole for yet another birthday celebration with my hometown friends. We always go to the same spot on the courthouse square where many of the local attorneys, judges, politicians, and various other small-town yuppies tend to hang out for a excessive guilt-free drinking at what most people in my town consider a "fine dining" restaurant. Many years ago, I bartended and waited tables there, so I have a particular fondness for the place. And even though I don't get back as frequently as I used to, most people there still know me, and that's always fun even though I have to repeat the same things over and over - still graduating in May, still not coming back home to practice.
After a few drinks, we unfortunately decided to hit the karaoke hole-in-the-wall bar on the other side of the square this time out. It was scary, really, with all the mullets and drunken stupidity and really horrible renditions of already-bad country songs. I only lasted about 30 minutes, if that. Too much smoke, unspeakable masacres of a Neil Diamond tune and that bluegrass song from "O Brother, Where Art Thou", and besides, I really hate that bar. Really.
Anyhow, the rest of the weekend was busy with other things - studying, picking Dad up from the airport, picking prickly burrs out of Milo's fur (because he always feels the need to get into shit), sleeping in, and lunch with the grandparents today. Speaking of lunch with my grandparents, apparently my grandfather, who had a stroke last year, has no memory of my ex-husband. My grandma said something about my ex the other day, and he said, "Who's that?" He seriously has no recollection of my dating him, marrying him, or divorcing him. How great is that?? I adore my grandfather, and would have preferred for him to live the rest of his life in ignorant bliss as to that little fiasco in my life. My grandma wasn't going to tell him anything about it (more out of spite, really, because she was mad that he didn't remember), but my dad got caught off guard when my grandfather asked him, and he filled him in. Well, at least Grandad doesn't personally remember all the gory details.
Yeah, I wish I had that particular memory loss myself, actually.
Anyhow, it's Sunday afternoon now. I'm back home. Milo is barking at nothing. I have things I really ought to be doing.
Also, I wanted to take pictures of the two new babies (yes, horses again) that were born this weekend up at home. Although not nearly as fabulous as my sister's new baby, these two - a filly and a colt - were pretty darn cute. And I got to see them within 24 hours of being born, which made them all wobbley on their legs and goofy-looking, too. Adorable stuff right there.
So yeah. Flowers and horses. This weekend has been a variation on last weekend's theme, including all the pesky studying hanging over my head.
Friday night, I hit the local watering hole for yet another birthday celebration with my hometown friends. We always go to the same spot on the courthouse square where many of the local attorneys, judges, politicians, and various other small-town yuppies tend to hang out for a excessive guilt-free drinking at what most people in my town consider a "fine dining" restaurant. Many years ago, I bartended and waited tables there, so I have a particular fondness for the place. And even though I don't get back as frequently as I used to, most people there still know me, and that's always fun even though I have to repeat the same things over and over - still graduating in May, still not coming back home to practice.
After a few drinks, we unfortunately decided to hit the karaoke hole-in-the-wall bar on the other side of the square this time out. It was scary, really, with all the mullets and drunken stupidity and really horrible renditions of already-bad country songs. I only lasted about 30 minutes, if that. Too much smoke, unspeakable masacres of a Neil Diamond tune and that bluegrass song from "O Brother, Where Art Thou", and besides, I really hate that bar. Really.
Anyhow, the rest of the weekend was busy with other things - studying, picking Dad up from the airport, picking prickly burrs out of Milo's fur (because he always feels the need to get into shit), sleeping in, and lunch with the grandparents today. Speaking of lunch with my grandparents, apparently my grandfather, who had a stroke last year, has no memory of my ex-husband. My grandma said something about my ex the other day, and he said, "Who's that?" He seriously has no recollection of my dating him, marrying him, or divorcing him. How great is that?? I adore my grandfather, and would have preferred for him to live the rest of his life in ignorant bliss as to that little fiasco in my life. My grandma wasn't going to tell him anything about it (more out of spite, really, because she was mad that he didn't remember), but my dad got caught off guard when my grandfather asked him, and he filled him in. Well, at least Grandad doesn't personally remember all the gory details.
Yeah, I wish I had that particular memory loss myself, actually.
Anyhow, it's Sunday afternoon now. I'm back home. Milo is barking at nothing. I have things I really ought to be doing.
posted by Amanda at 4:02 PM
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