|« Revert function||Memorial Day Weekend »|
My weekend zipped by so fast I scarcely registered that it happened, though I know that it was the weekend!
Friday I napped extensively, and only got up so that I would be able to sleep Friday night. Mike and I went out to dinner at a local Indian restaurant, after he protested Indian food, saying that he often gets heartburn or reflux or something after eating it. I suggested other restaurants, and he said that he loves Indian food and said he'd try it. I told him it probably was something in specific Indian dishes that was giving him trouble, not Indian food in general. He is a B, and is a complete skeptic of the BTD. Won't listen to me about not eating chicken, tomatoes, or corn. Thinks he's studied enough about nutrition to know what he's talking about. Right.
So we went to this place, had a lovely meal. I had the lamb saag and saffron rice, and Mike had a sampler platter with chicken (B avoid), shrimp (B avoid) and lamb (B neutral or bennie, I forget which). He also got some onion nan, and I did try a bite of it (yummy!). The service was tremendously slow, and I must admit that I was not at my cheeriest most of the evening. In fact, I was feeling a bit crabby. The more I hang out with Mike, the less tolerant I am getting of his quirks, and Friday night was no exception. For some reason he feels the need to nitpick every little thing. No comment, no matter how off-the-cuff, goes unremarked upon, and he must kvetch about everything. And he splits hairs and gets stuck on semantics rather than discussing the actual issue. Grr! Definitely someone who views the glass as half empty, and I prefer to see it as half full. Everything gets criticized, no matter how lovely or well-executed it might be. A few months ago when I read him a monologue I'd written (he is also an actor), he said it was too depressing and would pull too much at people's heartstrings. Well, duh, that's what good acting DOES, and it is a monologue about a woman whose child is dying. Of COURSE it's going to tug at the heartstrings.
After reading my paragraph above, I think I'm still crabby! I'm working on getting a day job again, and that will help my crabbiness. In the meantime, I will try to minimize it!
After dinner, we went back to Mike's apartment and watched an old Martin Landau/Sidney Poitier film from circa 1970 - "They Call Me Mr. Tibbs". A murder mystery that looks very dated and stagey now (which Mike completely picked apart, of course, not even given it credit for being done 34 years ago), but had some really solid acting and fun chase scenes. It was very dated now, and it was fascinating to see the difference between a police movie/murder mystery done then versus now. The sets are much more realistic now, as is the acting. I like Martin Landau, but Sidney Poitier was the actor who made the movie for me. He was very impressive, and I liked a lot of what he did in the role of the homocide detective. Classy, classy man.
I was back home moments after the movie ended, and was out cold shortly after that.
Saturday was a busy day. I got my hair cut in the morning, and then went to the Beverly Center, which is a big mall in Beverly Hills. I've been in LA three years this week, and had never been there. Tells you how much of a shopper I am! One of my friends keeps bugging me about finding hipper clothes there than in the San Fernando Valley (which has clothes that are fine as far as I'm concerned!), so I decided I'd go over there and check it out. I didn't have much time after my hair appointment, but I did wander through, and did see a lot of cool stuff, so I'll go back there if I decide that the malls in the Valley just won't cut it for me.
I then went to Target and ran a few other errands, and went home and tried to nap for a couple hours before my date. I couldn't sleep, though, and forgot to turn off my phone, so when Anne called, I picked it up. She told me to come downstairs and talk with her while she got ready for her date, and we joked about this being the first time that either of us could remember both of us having a date the same night. We chatted for a while, then I looked at the clock and realized I was still in my running around clothes, had no makeup on, my apartment still needed to be straightened up a bit, and my date was to arrive in 30 minutes. Gotta go!
I dressed, did my makeup, and put a couple things away and was ready by 10 to 6. This is an eharmongy match, and it was our third date. He's a really nice guy, and we seem to be getting along well so far. However, I can't help but feeling like something's missing with him, and I can't put my finger on what it is. I like him, and he seems to like me, but.....
We went to a steakhouse at Universal Citywalk, and I had salmon, greenbeans, and french fries - a rare and delicious treat. We were both tired, and the Lakers game was on every TV screen in the place, and from my seat alone I could see 8 screens, and my date could see approximately the same number from his seat. Apparently there are about 100 TVs in the place. And the noise of the TVs and the patrons was quite effective at hampering any potential conversation. The highlight of the evening was the two strolling musicians who my date talked into singing an Elvis version of a Snoop Dogg song. I was laughing so hard my sides hurt.
My date dropped me off, and within 10 minutes I was asleep. At some point in the middle of the night my phone rang, and I vaguely heard my mother leaving a message about some bad news, but her voice was still cheery enough that I knew it wasn't terrible, and could wait until morning, so I did not reach for the phone. I slept soundly until my phone rang at 8:45 Sunday morning, and I picked it up on the third ring, only to hear nothing on the other end. I knew it was my mother again, so I called her back. She'd called me, but then remembered it was 2 hours earlier and hung up. Just long enough to wake me up AGAIN, though. She sounded fine, so I asked her what the bad news was, and apparently Mr. Gray (a cat) had been hit by a car Saturday and she had to dig a hole Sunday to bury him.
Now, as tragic as losing a cat to an accident is, mom wasn't terribly upset. This cat was foisted upon her by some neighbors who were moving and didn't want to take him with them, and he was an older, crotchety cat who didn't care much for being in a house with other cats, or for human attention. So Mom didn't exactly 'bond' with him. Plus, at one point she had about 11 cats and two dogs, so it isn't as though one fewer animal around the old homestead will be sorely missed. So now she's down to 9 cats and the two dogs.
My mother's computer died the other night, and the same night so did some programs in my laptop. So I can only use the internet at home, but not MS Office or MS Money (and reinstalling them didn't work!), and Mom is getting a new hard drive. She and I usually email multiple times in a night when I'm working, and that is our primary form of communication. This is perfect for me, since I can answer when I want to, and don't have her wondering where I am at every moment if she can't reach me on the phone. I can also choose not to answer at all, and sometimes it goes unnoticed. Well, since Mom's computer died the other day, she's calling me ALL THE TIME! Now, granted, I'm crabby this weekend, but I think Mom called me about 5 times today, total, and probably a dozen times over the course of the weekend. Today she called me to tell me that she was digging a hole to bury Mr. Gray, and then again about the cut she got on her leg, and once to ask me why she couldn't reach me for a while before (when I was in Target, where cell phones get no reception) and then again because she'd forgotten to ask me how my date was. Grr. I didn't pick up every time, but it gets annoying! I love her, but I don't need or want to talk with her to recount every moment of my day!
Anyway, after Target this morning I went to FOUR grocery stores to stock up on food for the week (or several weeks, considering how much I bought) and to find spelt flour for my brownies for the potluck at work tonight. Got home and talked with Mike and Anne about getting together later in the evening about seeing "Shrek 2", and dinner. Then I took a much-needed nap.
Anne didn't make it back in time to go see "Shrek 2" with us, so Mike and I headed off to the movies. I laughed so hard! I loved it. Antonio Banderas as "Puss in Boots" was hilarious, and IMO made the whole movie. Anne had warned me that the first scene between Shrek, Donkey, and Puss in Boots would have me in stitches, and she was right.
As I walked in the door after the movie, my phone was ringing, and Anne had also just walked in the door, so I told her to come down for dinner, and she and Mike and I ate lamb chops and artichokes and talked for an hour or more. Mike had NEVER eaten an artichoke (just as well, since I think they are bad for Bs), and Anne and I were cracking up at his attempts to eat it. In spite of our demonstrations and explanations of what to eat and how to eat it, he was hopeless, and we were in stitches.
After dinner, Anne and I hung out a while longer, and Mike went home. We talked and watched Pierce Brosnan in one of the James Bond movies for a while, and then Anne went home and I started cleaning up and getting ready for work.
Looking at all this, I really was on the go all weekend, and did a lot! And it went by in the blink of an eye.
No feedback yet
Comments are not allowed from anonymous visitors.