le weekend

Well I was in a bit of a rut this past week. Apparently my phone manner at work is under par (umn), unwelcome ex-boyfriend thoughts are popping into my head, and the frenchman jetted off to Prague where cell phones no longer work.

Major moping, pouting, and a 15 hour nap (seriously, whats wrong with me?) later, I pack my obnoxiously large super-purse and head to the parents house for a pick-me-up. On the way, I hung out with a high school friend whom I have the bad habit of blowing off.

His venue of choice? Fast Eddie's pool hall. Sweet.

If there was a game where hitting that white ball in the pocket meant winning, I would be the champ.

Saturday meant waking up in Mama's bed (we call her Diddy-boo) with a hangover, wedged in between the cat and Diddy herself. Then, a two hour car ride to a one and a half hour party of thirty lesbians. Sadly, all my social anxieties were on full display since not a fellow in sight. But there was a lake...


A lake that was a weird cooling receptacle for the nearby nuclear power plant and rocking a solid 95 degrees. A brief dip ended by something ticklish swishing past my leg.

It could have been algae, but I don't want to grow a third arm.

Post-swim, Diddy and I shared a brisket sandwich (bad idea) and headed home. To our communal bed, as mine wasn't made and I certainly wasn't going to have at it.


Sunday morning, mopes not completely gone. So I requested a cinnamon bun and skim milk. To my delight (and after some sass), Diddy jumps in the Volvo to oblige. Perhaps she senses my irrational pity party?

Then on to much needed girl time with Maggie May (so named for her unhealthy obsession with Rod Stewart). We go to a birthday party and spend the whole time sitting together and being fabulous. After some fire ants crawl up my uber-short skirt, we call it a day.

The frenchman finally checks in, and I get over my funk. Enfin.