So my weekend went something like this...
Finished work on Friday and went to teach my weekly yoga class. Much fun was had. Got a ride home from my wonderful boyfriend. He ordered pizza; I opened the wine. Got slightly drunk watching Dateline true crime stories since my boyfriend fell asleep on the couch and I drank the rest of the wine. You snooze, you lose.
Saturday: woke up after sleeping in until 10 am. Took a moment to relish this. Had morning coffee and breakfast, then headed out for some cross-country cycling during which I usually become very aware of my thoughts.
Sample of my stream of consciousness while cycling: "Huh. With all the leaves on the ground, it would be really hard to pee in the woods without being seen. You'd have to hike, like, a mile in. Oh God, another hill. Mother f*cker. Do I even LIKE doing this? I was cold, but now I'm hot but I don't want to take off my jacket 'cause then I'll have to tie it around my waist and it'll hang off my hips and might get caught in a wheel and then I'll crash head first and that would suck. But I'm hot. Man, coffee really dehydrates. My throat is like the f*cking Sahara desert. I should drink less coffee before exercising." And so on...
Got home, had some leftover pizza and the boyfriend and I cracked open another bottle of wine (a warm-up for the evening's birthday party) and started watching the first season of Modern Family. Yeah, we're a little behind on the trendy shows, and yeah, we drink alcohol after exercising 'cause we're cool like that.
Modern Family deserves its own paragraph. There is no sweeter moment for a TV addict than when she stumbles upon a fecking AWESOME new show. I admit, I was expecting less from a major network's program but this little gem is the SHIT. Pitch-perfect casting, brilliant writing, great directing. I know, I'm just now catching up to the general consensus and this is in no way late-breaking news. So, if you live under a rock and still don't know about Modern Family, check it out yo. Of course, if you live under a rock, you probably won't be reading this blog anyway... but I digress.
Following an afternoon of TV bliss, I had to get ready for a friend's birthday party at a swanky new restaurant. I wanted to curl my hair for the occasion so I tried using my hair straightener and "twirling" my hair with it. FAIL. Then, I fished out an old curling iron and tried that. The thing heated up about as much as the Grinch's heart, prior to his Yuletide spiritual awakening. FAIL. Tried another curling iron / brush. This was a mistake. When I attempted to remove it from my head, it tried to eat my hair. FAIL. So I straightened my already straight hair with the straightener.
Then, just as we're about to leave, I discovered the cat had peed on the bed. AGAIN. Now, my cat is in the early stages of kidney disease and would be considered a "senior" cat. But we've made a lot of adjustments so she doesn't have to go very far to eat or pee or shit or sleep and she had been so good for the past few weeks. I deduced that she has now sunk to the level of pure malice and is f*cking with me just for kicks. Bitch.
So, naturally, I was driven to drink at my friend's birthday party to deal with my feline's supposed incontinence. We now have lovely plaid, waterproof picnic blankets on all the beds. Me: 1. Phoebe: 0. And that was Sunday's adventure.
|The Evil one...|