So who else thinks every work week should start on Tuesday? It’s amazing how rested I feel with just one extra day of sleep/lounging around. Maybe I’ll start and circulate an e-mail chain letter claiming that if x # of people sign my petition, then we can get the work week changed to Tuesday-Friday. Because chain letter petitions are the best way to make a change, right? Right.
Labor Day weekend 2k8 was a good one, I must say. Allison and Wade came to Richmond on Friday night to get the weekend started. After a few rounds of Guitar Hero, I was dizzy and ready for bed. Something about that game messes with my equilibrium and makes me want to vomit, and yet I keep going back. Guess it’s a good thing I’ve never gotten into drugs. Anyway, we got up on Saturday morning and after a few more rounds of Guitar Hero, we packed up the car and headed for Brian’s family’s bay house in Palacios, Texas (pronounced “Puh-lash-us,” which really strikes at the heart of the Spanish major in me).
Because the house is for sale, the family hasn’t been there in quite some time, so we knew before arriving that the house might not necessarily be in working order. Fortunately, all of the major things were working—water, electricity, air conditioning… for the most part. We spent the first hour or so disposing of bugs/bug remains/bug droppings—a delightful way to start any vacation, right? But it really wasn’t so bad considering all of the bugs were dead.
We spent the weekend playing Guitar Hero (see a theme here?), playing games, eating, and avoiding the plague of mosquitoes that awaited us outside. A few things you should know about playing games with the Olivers/Joiners:
Brian is extremely competitive. It doesn’t matter if we officially keep score or not, he will always know his standing, and will make sure to remind you of it if he happens to be winning. Also, just FYI, in case you ever play Rummikub with him, you should know that he will try to see through the tiles and pick the ones he needs. I won’t use the “cheater” word, but consider yourself warned.
Wade does not appreciate your pity. Taboo might not be his strongest game (in one round he scored a whopping one point in 60 seconds), but he would rather you berate him than say something like, “See, Wade, you’re improving!” He is also the most likely to misspeak and unintentionally end up saying something inappropriate (ie: “Ok Brian, this is a game we play where I touch you with my hand!” Umm… keep it clean, Wade).
Allison is not the world’s best guesser, and will insist that “short bedtime” is a perfectly rational guess when the word you are acting out is quite clearly “nap.” She also doesn’t really like games that involve cards or any form of thinking. She said so herself.
Believe it or not, I have rage issues. It is not really fun to be my partner in games because I will almost always blame you if we lose. I am also the one most likely to make really off-color jokes in the game of “Apples to Apples.” I made myself laugh until I cried twice because of the cards I used. I won’t share the specifics with you because then you will judge me, trust me.
Anyway, we ended up coming back to Richmond earlier than planned on Sunday evening (rather than Monday morning) because our sleeping arrangement (4 people on one giant couch) was a little less than ideal. There was actually plenty of room for all of us, but Allison and I stayed up most of the night fearing that some of the dead bugs would be resurrected and attack us in our sleep. Wade had trouble sleeping as well, but Brian (aka: the log) was dead asleep the whole evening. No surprise there.
I plan to spend this next week recovering from the weekend’s festivities by not eating anything. Somehow all eating “rules” go out the window when it’s a holiday weekend and I now feel well on my way to morbid obesity. But it’s not often that I throw caution to the wind and stuff my face repeatedly with handfuls of Marshmallow Matey cereal, so I figure it was worth it.
And by the way, I’m going to confess that last night I had a dream that I hung out with this stranger whose blog I read… I have never communicated with her in my life, but in my dream we were practically best friends. Perhaps I spend a little too much time on here…? Oh well, better than dreaming about work, if you ask me!
Happy September, everyone—we are one month closer to Christmas!