Nostalgia

Time for me to bore you with my weekend update. Friday was another wonderful evening with the lovely Happy Hour Girls. We all caught up on our "mens" -- or in my case, lack thereof.

Saturday morning, K and I made breakfast for Navy Guy using my new griddle. We had french toast just like Czarina's, scrambled eggs and turkey bacon. (Ever had turkey bacon? Dude, it's good. Try it.) Mmmmm....every day should start with a heaping dose of fat, salt, maple syrup and orange juice. (Diet? Who's on a diet? I don't know anyone...)

Saturday afternoon, I went with MJ and KT to a car show. I didn't realize she was such a big fan of cars...too bad the show was pretty small. We did see some cool cars, though. Then, in keeping with our nostalgic theme of the day, we went to Steak n Shake. For those of you who are not familiar with this restaurant, let me send you some virtual sympathy. You poor, poor thing. Get in your car and drive to the nearest one. Whadda ya mean it's 8 hours away? I said go. Don't worry, you will forget all about the drive as soon as you get a long, cool sip of one of their hand-scooped milkshakes. Mmmmm....

MJ and KT had never been, so I had to enlighten them. It's a 1950s-style burger/fries/shake kind of chain restaurant. I love them because:

1. They have fantastic milkshakes.
2. Their burgers have crispy edges and lots of big pickles.
3. Their chili is awesome on a cold day.
4. They are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. And now they take Visa.

They are everywhere in Indiana (sort of like how there's a Waffle House on every corner in SC), so going there always takes me back to Friday nights in high school, when every teenager in a 15 mile radius would descend on the poor staff of the local Steak n Shake. In college, I would meet up with friends there to talk and smoke for hours on end. So I have a lot of great Steak n Shake memories. They don't exist in Virginia, so I was very excited to see one when I moved here. I am the envy of my family, to be exact. The Belle family loves S&S.

After gorging ourselves on burgers and milkshakes (diet? what diet?), we hit some thrift stores. After looking at old furniture that looked like something from Grandma's house, we discovered a box of (get this) 8 tracks! I can't even remember the last time I have seen one. I think I was about 7 years old.

I ended up falling asleep on my couch on Saturday night -- wow, how exciting. I watched Best in Show before passing out, though. It was very disappointing. There are a couple of characters I liked (the gay couple and the yuppie couple were hysterical), but otherwise, this movie was lame.

Sunday, I cleaned the disgusting pig-hole known as my house. I cleaned all. day. long. I think I went through about 15 sheets on my lint roller. (It's dog hair city at my place.) I watched Mean Girls as I cleaned. I had forgotten how funny that movie is! By dinnertime, I was too tired to make anything and too grungy to go out to eat. So K and I got a pizza. (Diet? I don't know what you're talking about.) Well, eventually, anyway. It turns out, my house is located in the only part of town that Papa John's won't deliver to. If you go 15 minutes in any direction from my house, you can get to a Papa John's. But none of them will deliver to my house. I don't live in a bad neighborhood, just outside of their little delivery area. I thought this was bulls--t, and I *ahem* said so. Because, last I checked, pizza delivery guys could use the money. And I would swear on all things holy that they have delivered to my house before. But whatever. I just drove up to the Domino's around the corner, waited 10 minutes (for a far inferior, yet cheaper, take-out pizza) and got over it.

But Papa is on my list, now. He'd better be glad I don't have any mafia connections.

I haven't told you about my dream I had! Ok, it's so sad to say this, but it was practically the highlight of my weekend.

I had a dream that I had sex with Julian McMahon!!!! Yeah! It was awesome. Well, ok, I think it was awesome. I don't remember the actual sex part. (Maybe it was so good, my memory just couldn't handle it? And so it blocked it out??) My recollection starts when he gets up to go take a shower after we do it. I am removing my clothes (yeah, I don't get it either--maybe we had been too into it to bother with clothing removal?), telling him I'll be joining him in the shower in just a second (RAWR!) when I look over at his dresser.

There's a thing of woman's deodorant sitting on the dresser. And it's not mine. The asshole is too
dense/arrogant to even hide the most obvious piece of evidence of another woman.

That's the end of the dream -- me, naked, holding some other woman's deodorant.

How sad is it that I even have cynical dreams???? *sigh*

Ok, enough fooling around. I know why you're here. You are expecting some kind of Hot Neighbor update, aren't you? Something about lasagna, or me doing some weeding in my front yard, wearing nothing but a bikini. You want me to say that he and I had wild, hot, dirty monkey sex on his living room floor, don't you? Or that he's taking me out to dinner next Saturday.

You'd probably even settle for me saying something optimistically cliche about fate, or waiting for things to happen at the right time, or taking my life into my own hands and making things happen, not living in fear of rejection, that kind of thing. Am I right?

Well, sorry folks. The only Hot Neighbor update I have for you is this: He was gone most of the weekend. Right up until Sunday night, when the Wednesday Skank pulled into his driveway in her shiny, new convertible.

Wednesday Skank -- 2, Virginia Belle -- 0

Game over, folks.