Monday, August 22, 2005

My Dream Weekend

My "dream weekend" involves staying in my pajamas all day, watching Kids In The Hall DVDs, and eating lots of mismatched food (bowl of Cheerios, followed by stuffed eggplant, or something.) Somehow, ever since Scratch & I moved in together, that weekend is just completely unattainable. It's always going to the store, visiting the in-laws, or me going to my mom's to do our laundry for the week while Scratch cooks something elaborate. We're not what you would call "go-getters" but we just can't really be lazy either.

We are both usually bummed out about this - we're busy all weekend, but not with anything fun. Well, this past weekend was a doozy:

Friday Night: We went to Spyner's with some friends for karaoke! Wheee! It was a fun crowd that you could never quite put your finger on. I kicked ass on one song (Because the Night) and stunk up the joint on two (Island in the Sun, Take Me With U) - but enough about me, here are the karaoke highlights of strangers:

Then we woke up on Saturday and went to see Body Worlds! Which was awesome. Except for one thing: Touchers. Not kids, mind you. Upper-middle-classy looking white people were touching the bodies! Stop touching! It's not cool! You are not above the law of "Please do not touch!" As Scratch pointed out, they are not my bodies, so I shouldn't have gotten so bent out of shape about it, but come on! Let's try to keep things out of glass cases!

Saturday night, we went to a Pampered Chef party! Wow, we are such snobs. We were all pissed that PC doesn't carry a potato ricer. Then we mocked the heck out of it, but since it was my sister's party, we bought crap (a thermometer, a tart pan, and something else.)

Sunday, I gave blood in the morning, then did some laundry at Mama's, while Scratch was fixing a huge gourmet feast for my aunt's birthday. Then we all feasted. Then I watched Six Feet Under and couldn't sleep because I thought burgulars were going to break into the apartment, and we wouldn't hear them because the air conditioner in our bedroom is so f-ing loud and crazy sounding. Then I had nightmares about the neighborhood hating us because of our loud air conditioner, and this morning, after I woke up, I actually CHECKED to see if a neighbor had slid a note under our door saying she hates us like in the dream. There was no note (phew!) but I'm still worried about it.

So, maybe next Saturday morning we'll have nothing to do. That would be cool!

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