I have lots of things to write about, but most of them are of the long-ish story telling variety and I'm not in the mood to flesh them out today. Besides, it's bill paying day for MDH and he's probably going to boot me out of the office at any moment. He is currently performing his usual Sunday afternoon routine of watching the talking head brigade (Face the Nation, Chris Matthews, Tim Russert, etc..) while simultaneously watching UMass basketball on his laptop and shouting to himself, so I have a little time.
Here instead I'll tell you about our evening out. We forgot to take the camera. I don't have any actual photographic proof, but Rachel, Playtah and Aria were there as witnesses that MDH and I actually went out on a Saturday night.
We went to Billy's Lounge, which is a terrific little bar near our house. Technically it's within walking distance, but since we live in the fucking tundra, we drove. Aria's father's band were the featured performers of the night with the lovely Aria filling in for the regular female vocalist. She, along with the rest of the band, kicked ass. They played the kind of crowd pleasing R&B, Funk and Soul standards that make even the fuddiest of fleece wearing duddies get up and dance.
As we were leaving the bar I noticed that it was 12:50am and that I had a terrible hankerin' for a chili dog. MDH was not keen on the idea. I whined and put up a fuss until I realized that I was the driver, so I shut up and just drove straight to the 24 hour weenie restaurant instead of going home. It's weird that such things as 24 hour hot dog joints exist in a dullsville boring town that normally shuts completely down by 11PM, but I'm so very glad that they do. It's almost all we've got.
By the time we got to the weenie store MDH had decided not only that chili dogs were just the ticket, but also declared me "A Genius!" and trudged across the slushy parking lot to buy our late night snack while I waited in the toasty warm car.
We ate the sloppy doggies back at home hovering over paper towels on the sofa in the den and stayed up until almost 3am talking and laughing.
How did I get so lucky?
Here instead I'll tell you about our evening out. We forgot to take the camera. I don't have any actual photographic proof, but Rachel, Playtah and Aria were there as witnesses that MDH and I actually went out on a Saturday night.
We went to Billy's Lounge, which is a terrific little bar near our house. Technically it's within walking distance, but since we live in the fucking tundra, we drove. Aria's father's band were the featured performers of the night with the lovely Aria filling in for the regular female vocalist. She, along with the rest of the band, kicked ass. They played the kind of crowd pleasing R&B, Funk and Soul standards that make even the fuddiest of fleece wearing duddies get up and dance.
As we were leaving the bar I noticed that it was 12:50am and that I had a terrible hankerin' for a chili dog. MDH was not keen on the idea. I whined and put up a fuss until I realized that I was the driver, so I shut up and just drove straight to the 24 hour weenie restaurant instead of going home. It's weird that such things as 24 hour hot dog joints exist in a dullsville boring town that normally shuts completely down by 11PM, but I'm so very glad that they do. It's almost all we've got.
By the time we got to the weenie store MDH had decided not only that chili dogs were just the ticket, but also declared me "A Genius!" and trudged across the slushy parking lot to buy our late night snack while I waited in the toasty warm car.
We ate the sloppy doggies back at home hovering over paper towels on the sofa in the den and stayed up until almost 3am talking and laughing.
How did I get so lucky?
And here is a picture of what you would see if you were standing on my back porch, hovering near the door. It's our sad, broken hot tub, now a home for wayward bunnies. One of my deepest desires on this earth is to make the hot tub go away. I hate it.