I’ve been sick. And by that I mean physically ill, not mentally ill (as I know some of you are thinking). I hate being sick. But I really love my new job. And why’s that? Because on Thursday I went to my boss Mike N and asked if I could have Friday off because I was not feeling good and didn’t want to take the chance of having to call in sick the next day (when you work in a call center, the amount of unscheduled time away from the office can have an adverse affect on your career). Mike was cool about it and arranged for me to have the time off without worries of an occurence.

Keem is also not feeling good and I am worried that I may have infected her with the bug that both Beth and I have decided to blame THE BOY’s friend Pete for passing on to us last Sunday at karaoke. So, since she would not be going to Fridleykins for our usual Friday night of cards and mediocre food, it was arranged that Matt would pick me up. I told him to call me before he left and he agreed.

I could have, if I would have been thinking like a normal person and not like one who had a brain clogged with illness, taken a shower and packed my suitcase since I was spending the weekend over at Beth’s. But I am not a normal person so I took my cell phone and went off to my room to take a much needed nap since my Friday was filled with so much activity.

7:00 AM – Get up. Go to the bathroom. Go back to bed. Take some more Nyquil.
9:00 AM – Get up. Cough a little. Stumble to the bathroom. Go back to bed.
11:00 AM – Dream weird dream that I don’t remember anymore (but may have talked about at Fridleykins. Not sure).
12:19 PM – Get up. Stumble off to Keem’s room. Play Zuma.
3:00 PM – Still playing Zuma. This is the best game of Zuma I have ever played in my life. Apparently the Nyquil I took at 7:00 is slowing down my reflexes and I can actually think about the moves I am making instead of shooting balls from the frog’s mouth in any which direction.
3:30 PM – Do small victory dance because I have beaten Zuma.
3:35 PM – Am slightly disappointed because now what am I going to do for fun?
4:00 PM – Curse internet because it is being difficult and will not let me blog.
4:30 PM – Drag sheet and book to couch. Take up residence. Watch television.
8ish PM – Talk to Matt. Go to bed.

I wake up several times while I am waiting for Matt to call. Once at around 9:30, once at 10:45 or so. Each time I think “Did he call? No. Should I get up? No. I’ll just go back to sleep.”

At 11 or so, I hear something. I wake up, look at my phone. The screen is glowing blue and one last note of the ring tone is fading away. I realize I missed Matt’s call. I immediately call him back. “I have no idea how I missed your call,” I say to him.

“I’m downstairs,” he says.

I am horrorstruck. What? “I thought you were going to call me when you were leaving?” I ask.

“I did,” he tells me. “This is my 3rd time calling you.”

Oops. To quote Britney, I did it again (the last time being when I set my alarm clock for 11:30 AM on Thanksgiving Eve instead of 11:30 PM and missed going to karaoke with Beth. For which I am still apologizing because she waited for me for 25 minutes before leaving. Because she’s a really good friend (I am so sorry. Again)).

I figured out why I didn’t hear the phone. Being a gadget girl, I downloaded a new ringtone for my Virgin Mobile – it is the Muzack version of Maroon 5’s “She Will Be Loved.” Great song. Nice, mellow, I adore it. However, it, perhaps, is not the best song to be using as an alarm clock. The other ringtone I use more often is the theme from Batman. I love Batman, especially portrayed by Adam West. Batman would have woken me up.

So finding out Matt is downstairs completely ruins my plans to take a shower. I dash through my room, trying to throw things into my suitcase (there will be a seperate post about the suitcase), running into the bathroom and almost screaming when I see my reflection. See, my hair, while short, is also extremely thick. And when I have slept on it, it takes on a personality and life of it’s own. In other words, sections of my hair were reaching for the sky, all in completely different directions. Obviously I can not go into public like this. I grab the hairbrush and yank it through my hair, whispering threats to it (“You’re so getting cut soon, dang you. Stupid hair. That’s it. Where’s the scissors?”). Finally it deigns to lie flatly against my head, making me look like I haven’t taken a shower in days. Such an attractive style.

I pack my suitcase and wheel it through my room, heading for the door. Jeff and Keem are watching “Hope Floats.” They are at the scene where the little girl, Bernice (who names their kid Bernice?) is throwing a fit when her Dad won’t take her with him. I hate that scene. I say goodbye and then Keem says “Did you get your laundry together?”

Crap.

No, I did not get my laundry together. So I rush back to my room, grab all the clothes in the laundry cart from the last time Keem did laundry (I pay her to do my laundry. I hate laundry. It is evil. Well, actually, I pretty much hate anything that could be considered domestic. I am not a domestic person. I am wild, baby, wild and you can’t chain me down (okay, I seem to be going to a strange place now, sorry)) and toss it on to my bed and then grab all the dirty clothes in the pile in front of my closet and toss them into the cart. You might think that it would be easier to just put the dirty clothes into the cart right away and I agree with you, that is logical. However, Keem refuses to put my clothes away for me. I have tried upping the amount of money (bribe) I pay her and it still does not work. She feels that I should have some responsibility. Apparently, I need structure (Keem will argue that I have told her that I need structure and maybe I did. But I was obviously insane at the time).

This takes about two minutes to do but after that teeny amount of exertion, I am weak and out of breath. Stupid cold. I hate getting this sick. When you are this sick, everything is too much effort. There have been times when I’ve been struck down by the devil plague and am only capable of lying on the couch, watching movies. And then having to take a nap between movies because paying attention to a plot line wore me out.

Matt and I drive to Fridleykins, talking about everything. I have a hard time keeping up with the conversation because I am still groggy. Matt is very patient with me. He is a good son. We get there either right before Beth or right after, I’m not sure. I just know that all of a sudden, she is there. It is good to see her.

We get inside and realize that we are going to have the same waitress we had once before, the one that annoyed me so. Also there is Jen, one of the waitresses we like. We ask Jen if we can have her as our waitress. She says yes and tries to think up a diplomatic way to tell the other waitress. I will give credit to the other waitress (no clue what her name is), she did come up and apologize for the cappucino pie incident. Apparently she thought I was talking about cappucino. Yes, I can see how you made that mistake. After I referred to it as cappucino silk pie several times. Okay, my bitchiness aside, it was nice of her to apologize.

By the way, while I am typing this, I am at Beth’s, waiting for her to get off of work. Listening to iTunes. Which is totally cool. Because right now I am listening to Maria McKee’s “If Love Is A Red Dress” and reading the lyrics at the same time. You have to love the internet, Internet. Go ahead, give your computer a little kiss. You know you want to.

Adam and his boyfriend, Rich, joined us. It was nice to see both of them. It’s been a long time. Beth had printed off a copy of “D’oh! A Deer!” and handed it to Adam to let him read it. It is very weird watching someone read your work. You want to question every smile, every frown, every laugh. What did you find funny there? Why didn’t you laugh at this? That’s supposed to be funny. He seemed to enjoy it and it was a fun post to write.

We had a good time catching up and playing Sheepshead. I love it when the queens come out to play. We had a couple of hands where at least two or more queens fall in the same trick.

Anyway, the weekend is not over yet. I now need to go take a shower and get ready for tonight. Beth and I are headed out to a bar to meet THE BOY and his friend, Pete (Who I may punch for getting me sick). A bar. Without karaoke. What the heck is the point? Oh, right. THE BOY. I hope that tomorrow we will be updating you with fun and exciting stories about tonight.

Meanwhile, here are some lyrics for you. This song is on the Pulp Fiction soundtrack. I guess that’s one reason to like the movie (I didn’t. Love the soundtrack though).

If Love Is A Red Dress – Maria McKee

My heart is empty.
Your eyes are dull.
Once we were hungry,
Now we are full.
These chains that bind us,
Can’t beat these chains.
If love is shelter,
I’m gonna walk in the rain.

You were my angel.
Now, you are real.
So like a stranger,
Colder than steel.
The morning after,
You know what you bring.
If love is a red dress,
Well, hang me in rags.

Away.
There goes the fairy tale.
Lord, ain’t it a shame?
In all this comfort,
I can’t take the strain.

If we played even,
I’d be your queen.
But someone was cheatin’.
And it wasn’t me.
I’ve laid it on the table,
You had something back.
If love is Aces,
Give me the Jack.

Previous Comments:

At 8:10 AM, brooksba said…
“Anyway, the weekend is not over yet. I now need to go take a shower and get ready for tonight. Beth and I are headed out to a bar to meet THE BOY and his friend, Pete (Who I may punch for getting me sick). A bar. Without karaoke. What the heck is the point? Oh, right. THE BOY. I hope that tomorrow we will be updating you with fun and exciting stories about tonight.”Why did you NOT punch Pete in the face??? Well, we did end up with fun and exciting stories about tonight. HOW DID I END UP ON A DATE WITH PETE?I think we were both on the date. I can’t bear to let a man come between our friendship. I’ll step aside. You can have him. It’s okay. Once he’s yours, punch him in the face. Okay??? Please? I ask nicely.
At 10:47 AM, The Lioness said…
Hell, send him over, I’ll kick him in the balls where it hurts! What a bloody tosser this Petey character is!!!
At 12:16 PM, Matt said…
Father,First of all let me just get this out of the way right now, do not dare to bespeak evil things about Pul Fiction in my prescence, even though you did not say evil things about it except that you did not like it.Then allow me to move on to a slightly happier tone and tell you that I am happy to see that you picked a song on the soundtrack that I truly love. It is not very often that you will find a woman who has a voice that almost matches Elvis, but she comes close in that song on several occasions. And the whistling…..for what ever reason, that makes me hhhhhooooooottttt.Which I want to use as sort of a segue towards the Lioness (do not worry I am not that scary…..oh wait you have read my blog): after reading many of your comments towards my Father and my Little Sister, dare I say this, Lioness…..I love you. I would be more than happy to hold Pete for you to give that much dreaded (and depending on the mood much appreciated) kick in the balls that most men deserve. But, for some reason, I think that I would not need to hold him and that you would be able to catch him and do so much more than just kick him in the balls, I think, and feel free to correct me if you wish, that you would be able to tackle, kick, and scare the macho right out of Pete. And the world would rejoice if you did.Matt
At 3:06 PM, The Lioness said…
Dahling Matt, that’s really sweet! As for your NOT needing to hold him, weeeeell… *Pretty flabby muscles, she whispers, sadly* Why don’t we make a duet and kick-sing the crap out of the little shit (you hold, I kick, you sing?)? Deal?

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