I fucking hate summing up a whole long weekend after not blogging for a few days. What a pain in the fanny. Well, let's see what I can pinch out for you...
We left on Thursday in white-out conditions -- it was fucking insane. 'Twas a blustery day to say the least, silly old bear, and I was white-knuckling across the Michigan tundra for a solid coupla hours. I would've had the old lady spell me after awhile, but I wanted to make it to Chicago alive. Don't get me wrong, she's a great driver, she's just from the school of I-drive-ninety-regardless-of-conditions-so-hold-on-to-your-asses-fuckers. It's a great school from which to be an alumnus when the sun is shining and the roads are dry, but wet and blizzardy, fuck no. So yeah, drove through the arctic circle while Mr. Z and Miss O watched the "They Might Be Giants" dvd and one of the discs from "The Electric Company" box set. They did a stellar job and, when the snow stopped and the sun peeked out near the Skyway, I surrendered the wheel to A.J. Foyt and shoehorned myself into the shotgun pod:
There's your car photo, anonymous -- best I could do.
Got to the 'burbs by 9ish CST (yes, Mr. Z and Miss O were once again treated to a "real-live sunset" -- now they've seen three) put the kids to bed and hung out with my 'rents and my sister until too-fucking-late-o'clock in the morning. Couldn't sleep in on Friday thanks the itchy sheets on the bed and the GODDAMN SYNCHRONIZED LEAF-BLOWER SQUAD that apparently only had from 8-8:30 a.m. to blow every leaf in the world into a giant pile right outside my fucking window. Excuse me, but what the fuck happened to the rake?! It's just like that Billy Idol cover of "Mony, Mony." When I heard it in high school, he'd just sing it and people would listen to it. Jump ahead to my sophomore year in college and every starts shouting that "get laid, get fucked" shit during the verse. From whence the fuck did that come?! It's like I went into suspended animation and then there was this big all-Earth meeting where everyone got together and decided that from that moment forward, people would shout this shit during the verses, then they reanimated me and everyone's shouting this shit and I'm sitting there like an asshole going, "Wait... what? What wall did that bounce off of?!"
I don't know why I just went off on that tangent but... oh yeah, the rake. Same thing as the Billy Idol story but just substitute "leaf-blower" for "get laid, get fucked."
Yeah, so... Friday was fine. The old lady went off to Anthropologie to buy herself a $9000 blouse or something and I took the kids to the park with my mom. Very wholesome fun but it was kinda windy and cold and after about five minutes, my ears got that cold-wind-throbbing-thing and I was ready to go home. I did manage to snap a pic of Mr. Z right before he was ingested by a wild, stoned, hydrocephalic lion:
The rest of the day was fine, the kids played nicely with their cousin and I ate a shitload of not-shitty food for once. Stayed up really late again, but at least this time we were playing the greatest game in the world. By the way, what's up with those cretins playing on the web site?
Now THAT'S a party.
Saturday, we had a brunch/early birthday party for Miss O with my brother's family, sister's family and the rentals. The old lady birthed an incredible confection for the occasion:
Her talents never cease to amaze me -- she can bake the shit out of a chocolate cake, that woman. Mighty tasty (and the cake was delicious, too. HELLO!). We played some party games, Miss O opened some presents and all in all, it was a mother-fucking Norman Rockwell painting. Here's Miss O rockin' out with one of her gifts:
It's this incredibly cheap, yet way awesome microphone that has built-in applause FX and an "echo" button and she's been singing these hilarious tunes through the thing. I've got to record some of the shit she's coming up with. Classic.
Okay, this is getting way too fucking long. Let's wrap it up, who needs a ride home? Uh, the old lady and I went to visit a friend of hers with a new baby downtown and we had dinner and chatted and the kids weren't there and it was most excellent. My sister and her husband went to her 20th high school reunion and they came home all tipsy and regaled us with all the sordid details and then her drunk husband fell down the stairs. It made me do a blow-snot-outta-my-nose-laugh, which I haven't done in months. And I thank him for that. What else? Oh, when we got back on Saturday night, Miss O had somehow contracted the cold/cough/phlegm/fever thing she gets once a month, so I got to do the 1:30 in the morning run to Walgreens for cough medicine, which was fucking GREAT! Then we got up and drove home. The end.
All in all a great trip, except for the Miss O is now sick part. She'll probably stay home from school tomorrow and, of course, the old lady teaches on Monday, so my day will be fucked. Hoorah. And I've actually got an appointment with the reflux doctor, so I get to take along Miss O and her full-body snot chrysalis. Excellent.
Ah, it's good to be back.