My weekend was fairly quiet busy (I just read everything I did this weekend and realized it was busier than I thought.) Anyway, it felt quiet, which was nice, since so often my life seems to run at the speed of light. The children were supposed to be with me Friday night but optioned out, so I didn’t see them until Saturday, when I took them out to my sister’s for a BBQ (more on that later.) But that left me with a sort-of free Friday night, which I took full advantage of by imposing myself and Ad on W’s company, and then proceeding to get myself schnockered enough that W had to pour me into his bed, where I passed out slept peacefully until early Saturday morning.
Okay wait, I probably should start at the beginning.
In the beginning there was light…
No, no, too far back. (Obviously I am feeling silly this morning. That’s what comes of too much relaxation.)
So Friday I got off work at 11:30 and headed over to a) get my car registered, b) grab a sandwich and c) visit W. All of which I accomplished. Lunched, talked, etc. with W for awhile, and then he decided to hang me again. A suspension, not an asphyxiation. (I’m working on a post about the two we did earlier in the week over on PoJ.) This one didn’t work so well, but it looks so cool, and gives such lovely access to my backside and other important areas that we are both determined to get it right eventually. (You mean we have to try over and over, I have to get rope put all over me, I get to know I am the total and complete focus of W’s attention for possibly hours? Oh snap!) But that afternoon I had to get back home, because Ad had a fundraiser to attend, and I was supposed to go with him, so we couldn’t attempt it again. Another time, hopefully.
So here’s where I confess to being a selfish bitch not such a good girlfriend. I had no desire to go to the damn thing. A sports-related fundraiser where the big event is mouse races, um, not so much. And I had told him that earlier in the week, as well as turning down his invitation to attend a birthday dinner for a girl he and I used to date, and with whom he has kept in touch, but I have not. He just wanted my company, but I did not want to go and hang out with her weird eclectic group of friends. So, he was understandably a little…well, peeved might be too strong a word, but I think he was unhappy with me. And rightly so. But hey, if he’d invited me to something I wanted to do, I’d have been all over it. Still. I guess sometimes you have to do things for/with your SO, even if you don’t particularly feel like it. Just because you, you know, love them.
So instead of staying and hopefully getting additional mean things done to me by the Mean Guy, I left him (after some satisfying whacks with the cane) and headed home, thence to a local recreational center to watch mice race. And bet on them. No, seriously! Like a horse race, except they are lots smaller, and not as pretty, and no, there aren’t any jockeys (I know, I asked.) And besides which? They weren’t even mice! They were gerbils. I know this because I used to feed mice to my son’s snake. These were not the same animal. But, they were cute. And okay, I admit it, it was fun. Silly fun. Although I was a bit miffed when I discovered “Mouse Roulette” is not throwing a live mouse on a roulette wheel to see where he lands.
Anywhooo…a couple beers and maybe $50 later, we were sprung from the fundraiser and I had conned Ad into heading back over to W’s. I thought maybe we’d work on the suspension. Or some other chicanery. Course that was me before the CC & 7 hit. W is one smart cookie, he wasn’t about to hang me when I was tipsy. Still, a small amount of chicanery was had. He and Ad messed with me with a piece of a tree and a…huh. I don’t know what to call it. A square piece of mat with pokey hard things on one side–of course the side that they made me sit on. It’s all fun til someone gets an eye, er, something(!) poked out!
In any case, very soon after these pics were snapped I ended up passed out in W’s bed.
That afternoon I got my chilluns corralled and we headed out to my sister’s house for a BBQ. My sister is a funny woman. She is the one I recently tweeted about being upset that I had to do things in such a bass-ackward way by having an open marriage/relationship when I told her my ex and I were poly. “Can’t you just be normal and cheat like everyone else does??” Sad and funny at the same time. But then I had to open my mouth that my live-in partner of five years and I not only don’t share finances, I don’t know how much he actually earns, other than the fact that he obviously makes enough to live on, without asking much from me other than my monthly contribution for rent/utilities, etc. She and the friend she had invited over exchanged a “significant look” and there was an audible sound of disapproval from them both. (rolling eyes) Anyway, it was mostly fun, although I did get roped into probably attending my stepdad’s side of the family reunion in Ohio next August. Unless I can find some way to weasel out of it before then. I mean seriously-Ohio? What the heck is in Ohio?