Ever have one of those weekends that just seem perfect? For me, almost never. There's usually something that screws them up -- usually something work related, forcing me to forgo having a good time for the sake of my fabulous job. This weekend was almost perfect. Well, half perfect, actually.
Fabulous Saturday spent with some of my favorite old friends, getting to just be "us" despite what our lives are like the rest of the time. I felt like I was 21 again. Like somehow, the me from 8 years ago -- the fun one, not the boring responsible one -- decided to make an appearance. Fagers brings out the best (or maybe the worst?) in all of us. As Lisa once said, "I love Fager's. My MBA does me no good at all in there." This is how my weekend started out. We get so silly when we're there. Yes, it is sad that the band members all know us, show us pictures of their kids, notice when we've lost weight or change our hair. But they're OUR band.
So, anyway, as I said, that's how the weekend began. And then I came home on Sunday and first, discovered that despite celebrating the year of the 9th anniversary of my 21st birthday, I am no longer 21. I simply cannot hack it anymore. Oh well. Such is life. I am sore still now from dancing and wondering how beer can hang around in my stomach for not one but two days. So, feeling awful, I called my mom (no, there's no correlation there. she called while I was away) and found out that my cousin Chris volunteered to go to Iraq. For those of you who don't know, he's been a marine for four years or something like that. BUT, this is a kid who, when asked about their group starting the marine corps marathon, says things like "We go from gunning to running" and refers to music that is out of date as being a "band-a-go." I don't want to think about him being in a war zone. He's just too sweet for it and I worry about how he'll be when he comes back. I'm not even thinking about the alternative.
So, as they say, these things come in threes. Aunt Irene last weekend, Chris this weekend. Despite my fabulous time this weekend, I'm now just sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Fabulous Saturday spent with some of my favorite old friends, getting to just be "us" despite what our lives are like the rest of the time. I felt like I was 21 again. Like somehow, the me from 8 years ago -- the fun one, not the boring responsible one -- decided to make an appearance. Fagers brings out the best (or maybe the worst?) in all of us. As Lisa once said, "I love Fager's. My MBA does me no good at all in there." This is how my weekend started out. We get so silly when we're there. Yes, it is sad that the band members all know us, show us pictures of their kids, notice when we've lost weight or change our hair. But they're OUR band.
So, anyway, as I said, that's how the weekend began. And then I came home on Sunday and first, discovered that despite celebrating the year of the 9th anniversary of my 21st birthday, I am no longer 21. I simply cannot hack it anymore. Oh well. Such is life. I am sore still now from dancing and wondering how beer can hang around in my stomach for not one but two days. So, feeling awful, I called my mom (no, there's no correlation there. she called while I was away) and found out that my cousin Chris volunteered to go to Iraq. For those of you who don't know, he's been a marine for four years or something like that. BUT, this is a kid who, when asked about their group starting the marine corps marathon, says things like "We go from gunning to running" and refers to music that is out of date as being a "band-a-go." I don't want to think about him being in a war zone. He's just too sweet for it and I worry about how he'll be when he comes back. I'm not even thinking about the alternative.
So, as they say, these things come in threes. Aunt Irene last weekend, Chris this weekend. Despite my fabulous time this weekend, I'm now just sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop.
