Friday night I was all dolled up for a friend's birthday dinner, but I needed to run a few errands before I met up with the Birthday Girl and her friends. I ran into Blockbuster for a quick switcheroo of Mad Men discs, got distracted perusing the old movies, and before I knew it I had run into a long lost friend. We caught up for an hour in front of the Dora the Explorer aisle-- a shockingly busy place to be, as it turns out-- before lingering in the parking lot for another hour. It was unexpected and nice. Really, really nice. By the time I left the Blockbuster parking lot, I had more than missed the birthday dinner, so I finished my errands and headed home with my Mad Men.
Saturday-- shock!-- I slept in. I piddled around the apartment for most of the day, rotating chores with reading or a show OnDemand. After lunch, I headed to Birmingham for a little shopping with Mo. We met up with the usual suspects for dinner at the Fish Market before heading to J. Clyde for the rest of the evening. The only dark spot on my night was realizing somewhere along the way home that I was not just driving through a smelly part of town... oh no, there was, in fact, dog poop on my shoe. I had to stop in Scary Town for gas anyway, so I pulled over post-haste. Of course there was no window washing station equipped with paper towels at the gas station I chose and the gas pump didn't have the mechanism that allows you to set the pump to pump itself, but a lady in distress rarely has many options. And at a little after midnight in downtown Birmingham, the only thing I wanted was to set the pump, clean my shoe, and lock my door while I waited for the tank to fill up. But alas, I had to dig through the glove box for napkins (thanks Mom for instilling in me the need to keep such things handy), cleaned my shoe and carpet the best I could, and then stood and pumped my gas without making eye contact with anyone. As you can see, I made it... but it was touch-and-go there for a bit.
By the time I got home, I just wanted to crawl in bed with Macy. Wouldn't you know, though, "Tammy" upstairs was having her own special weekend. So add "living below a nymphomaniac" to my list of dark spots on Saturday night. My lack of sleep through the normal hours of the night caused me to sleep through church and take a nap around 5, but in the between hours I managed to have lunch and tool around with Baby Jane for a few hours-- much needed catch up time. Sunday night, my friend Kat and I, and a few of her friends, watched the Oscars and gorged on taco salad and key lime pie. My man Colin Firth won and gave an adorable acceptance speech, and that pretty much made my night complete. That, and, Tammy took Sunday night off. Who knew she was the kind of girl that observes the Sabbath...
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