Wow, last day of September. Only two months left in the year! I can’t believe it. Hmm…I feel like it is someone’s birthday today. Crap! Whose is it? Tara, if you know, you’d better call me ASAP and let me know. I hate missing people’s birthdays.
So, I had a fun weekend…even though it was a shitty-ass sorry excuse for a sports weekend, in my opinion. I will get to that. On Friday, Mike and I flew up to San Jose and had dinner with his family. It was yummy! But I think it had some sort of sleep-potion in it, because I could hardly keep my eyes open after I was done, and Mike couldn’t, either. We passed out as soon as we got to his parents’ house, which was a good thing, because we had to get up at the crack of dawn to go into San Francisco and meet up with Kimbrough. Mike, Kimbrough, her roommate, a bunch of their friends, and I were all going to a big tailgate before the Giants/Dodgers game. Her friends are a blast, and the drive over was almost as much fun as the tail gate. As we enjoyed the beer and food and beer and mixed drinks and beer, we all started putting things in Kimbrough’s sweater pocket, AKA, The Super Pouch. We stayed at the tail gate until my bladder couldn’t take it anymore. The stadium not only provided sweet bladder relief, but a Dodgers win! Yay! It also brought more beer, and some delicious cinnamon almond thingies. Yum.
After the game, Mike and I went to the post-tail gate at a restaurant not far from the park. That was fun…until I decided I needed food, or money, or lord knows what. Mike and I ended up at a different restaurant, where we bribed a guy to turn on the USC/Cal football game. We then ordered ridiculously priced food, more beer, dessert, and when the game went into overtime, coffee. TEN cups of coffee later, USC had lost and I was shamed. SHAMED! God damn it! I was so excited to go to New Orleans. Sons of bitches. Mike and I hurried back into Pac Bell Park for the second game of the Giants/Dodgers double-header, and as we walked to our seats, my USC hat was jeered left and right. Did they not see my pain? Damn No Good Giants Fans. Then, as we sat down, the big screen showed the score of the football game, and the whole stadium cheered. Boo on them! THEN the Damn No Good Giants Fans started chanting, “Shawn Green Sucks!” over and over. Finally, after killing my spirit, punching me in the stomach, and calling my mamma fat, the Damn No Good Giants Fans decided to steal my wallet by chanting, “Beat L.A.” the most hated jeer in the history of the world. I wanted to cry. But I didn’t. Okay, I did – after the Damn No Good Dodgers lost the second game. And although Mike is a Damn No Good Giants Fan, to his credit he did not join in on any of the chants. Probably because he feared what I would do to him, but I prefer to think it’s because he’s a little bit better than those other Damn No Good fans.
Needless to say, I was not smiling on the inside on Sunday morning. One, because of all the crap my teams heaped upon me the day before; and two, because I, for some reason, awoke with a hangover. I can not imagine why. Mike and I attended a lovely brunch, where I nursed my hangover with sweet and salty breakfast foods. It helped a bit. Our delayed flight back to L.A. did not help. Damn fog.
Even though I was traumatized by sports, it really was a nice weekend. And, this weekend, Mike’s sister is getting hitched. We’re flying back up to the Bay Area on Thursday for that. I’m excited, it’s going to be really fun. AND, I get to see Mike in a tux, since he’s in the wedding. Yummy. For me, not for you. If you are lucky, I will post a picture. Please, of course I will post a pic. I’m like that.
Still no news on the job front, although about 3 minutes ago, My Boss came into my office to ask me to do something. That’s not the interesting part, though, because he asks me to do stuff a lot. Because, you know, that’s my job. To do the stuff he tells me to do. The interesting part is that, after he asked me to do the crap, he said, “before you go, you’re going to have to show me how to do all this stuff.” So, being an idiot, I assumed he meant on Friday, when I am at the wedding. My reply was, “Oh, that’s okay, you can just leave it for me to do on Monday when I get back.” Beat. He looks at me. I look at him. Uncomfortable silence. “Ohhhhhhh…you mean, when I’m gone from this job?” More silence, as My Boss was quite obviously thinking of the right thing to say. AGAIN with the idiocy, I jumped back in to add, “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll make a hand-book, ha ha.” WHAT?! God, I am so stupid! Shut your mouth, Heather! Make people talk and tell you stuff! He laughed uncomfortably and then practically ran out of the office for the day. My mouth strikes again. I’ll be damned if I make that handbook.