Monday, September 15, 2008
It's NOT another "Case of the Mondays."
This morning is off to a pretty decent start all things considered.
I had 2 dollars left in my bifolding "magic" wallet, the one from jcrew I've had since around freshman year of college. It's been through the ringer (and through the washer) more times than I care to remember. The corduroy outside has been worn down to a glossy shine. I am not looking forward to replacing this wallet since I think they stopped making them and that makes me sad.
This weekend, except for not seeing the babies at all, was near to perfect. I'm sure you know the Patriots won. What's that you say? You don't care much about football? Well, if you had a brother like mine on a Sunday like yesterday you would. I did absolutely nothing all day; I stayed in my pajamas, sipped coffee-with-Bailey's, picked at the Globe crossword puzzle, and around lunchtime ordered pizza and wings.
In between sessions of watching the Red Zone Channel - a channel devoted entirely to switching between football games being currently played- we also watched the season premiere of Entourage, played a couple hours of the XMen Ultimate Team up game and did I mention I was in my pjs? I sat my ass on the comfortable blue couch shooting the shit out of shit with The Bear and reveling in all the nothing I was getting done.
In short, it was a perfect Sunday.
We went to a bar in Plymouth the night before. (Yes, Plymouth Massachusetts, as in the place where the Pilgrims landed). It was me the singular lesbian and all the drunk boys, Nikki and Jessie came, too, and I bought the three of us girls vodka drinks all night while everyone took sips trying to guess the vodka flavor (pear). In this sea of sausage there was one lone lesbian that the boys took to calling neck-tattoo. Tana, you should go talk to neck-tattoo --she bats for your team. I could only imagine how that conversation would go down.
As it was I didn't have to imagine for long because the boys got us thrown out of the bar. Yes, thrown out of a townie bar. This is what I have been reduced to. When I asked the manager, an aging hipster with a meticulously trimmed goatee Why? he said "Because we are trying to keep the ghetto out." It took me a moment to realize he was absolutely serious. He was referring to The Bear who had twisted his hat around backwards. I felt like pointing out that The Bear was about as far from "the ghetto" as a white kid can be, with his Nautica polo shirt and brown flips flops, and that I wasn't sure a backwards hat meant we were bringing gansta' back, or that Rodeo Town- or whatever the name of the bar was- was in any real danger of being overrun by the seven of us slightly-lit goofy white kids with devilishly turned baseball hats.
But alas, the sidewalk awaited us.
At some point we stumbled into some place that made margaritas. I tried to point out that tequila was probably a bad idea but I was being handed a full glass and all of my effort turned towards not spilling a drop. Nikki and Jessie are incredibly attractive straight girls, both with boyfriends, who get hit on continuously. Two old and ugly men walked over from the pool table and challenged us (them) to a game at which point I said "No thanks. We're just not into playing with balls." That got a laugh and everything else sort of faded after that.
SO, I am going in to this week refreshed and ready to get some things done. Nothing recharges my batteries quite like having an entire day off. I'll be posting some pictures of this week's project -the repainting of a 1999 Jeep Cherokee Sport which should be interesting and artistically cool. How many people do you know who can paint their own cars? I'll take you through it step by step. But for today, this morning at least, I am enjoying the last remaining bits of my day spent doing nothing.