It's alright Ma, It's only Monday

It wasn't a weekend of note, really. Pretty boring. The best part was that it was the weekend.

Saturday morning, I took Obbie on a long ride for breakfast. It didn't start out to be a long ride, but the first diner was packed, and the second one didn't take debit cards and I didn't feel like driving around to find 'my' bank. 2 hours later, we got our breakfast. At the truckstop 1.5 miles from my house. Breakfast was interesting, in a white trash sort of way. Apparently Saturday AM at the Petro is prime time for families with multiple out of control children. The hooting and running and screaming was unreal. Then there was the lady wearing a cell phone headset shouting about a washer and dryer she was procuring for some of her relatives. Obbie and I took turns rolling our eyes and trying really hard NOT to make comments out loud.

While I was at the checkout counter, he wandered off to the Petro store. Window shopping jackets and CB gear and such. I heard this 'clink, ka-ching, ka-ching" sound coming my way and looked up. I saw three drivers. One, very large black man, was in front walking, and two were behind him, grinning like fools. I checked out what they were grinning at, and here the first driver was wearing a VERY large pair of spurs, big boots, and was making the hellish racket with the spurs jangling off the floor. He was priceless. (My kingdom for a cameraphone!! Maybe I'll put a paypal begging tab over on the side for my pink RAZR phone fund)

As Obbie and I left, I asked, "Did you see the guy?" "No which one?" "You didn't hear the clanging sound?" "No" So I proceeded to tell him about the spur man. I was bummed because by that time, we were out in the parking lot, and there wasn't the Spur man anywhere to be found. We got in the car, and as we were pulling out, I spotted Spur man across the road, heading for, of all places, THE WESTERN WEAR STORE! "Oh THERE HE IS!!" I shouted, "We have to check him out!" So we did a quick left into the parking lot.

Once inside the store, we went under deep cover and shadowed this guy throughout the store. Not only did he have the spurs and boots, but he had a whole ear full of different silver Western themed earrings, AND a bolo tie with a piece of turquoise as big as a saucer! Oh maaan! He's known in this store, for the Buckle Bunnies behind the counter greeted him and were all happy to see him. I bet! He was ready to shop too. When we finally had our share of shadowing this guy all over the store, he was heading into the dressing room with two pairs of spiffy jeans and 3 brightly colored rodeo shirts. All I could think was what kind of hassle it'd be to deal with spurs and boots when you're trying on jeans.

After all that excitement (Obbie did find me a hot pink and black pair of ostrich skin boots, but the $365 price tag was a major deterrance. They were cool, though!) We headed home. Crashed on the couch and flipped thru movies and sports until the naps came.

Around 4:00 we left to go meet Momsie at the maul for shopping and dinner. That didn't turn out to be hateful at all, and I scored a new beading book and a pair of boots (Tan, not pink & black ostrich)
After dinner at Bob Evans (Salads all around, good stuff!!) Mom went home and we headed to the Chef's house where we just hung out. The original plan was to go see a band play, but it was bitter cold, and none of us wanted to go back out. So we shot the shit for a couple hours, and came home.

Sunday was bitter cold too, and while Obbie went to his Sunday meeting, I futzed around the house, doing chore-like stuff and wasting time on the computer. He got home in time for that grand spectacle of motor sports, the Daytona 500, so we watched that off and on. NASCAR has turned into a bunch of whiney crybabies and money grubbing assholes. Why does that happen when things get popular? All I know is that I'm suffering thru NASCAR because it makes a good soundtrack for napping on Sundays.

Obbie volunteered to grill outside, so we did veal chops and round steak on the grill, and some lobster ravoli with seafood cream sauce I had in the freezer. We had gotten the veal and the pasta and sauce last time we were in the Italian market in Philly. Now that we're out, it's a good reason to go back.

Now it's Monday, and I'm falling asleep in my tea. I'd like to know why we work 5 and only have 2 off? Theres something just WRONG with the formula.

See? Told you it was boring....