My Long Weekend Got Longer

I got an e-mail at 2:30 from my co-worker on Friday that said our boss (who was on PTO) had sent her an e-mail saying everyone in our department could leave at 3:30 as long as there were no production issues. From the office, I headed to T-money’s house (not the rapper) where we talked for a bit and then went to Red Rocks for pizza night, because there’s one in Columbia Heights as well. A cheap and delicious happy hour never hurt anybody. πŸ™‚ After that, we ended up talking until I was fading fast, and I went home glad that I had that friend I could just call for “shooting the shit” type purposes… speaking of which, I need to call Scales and the Colonel… don’t let me forget. πŸ˜›

I stayed up late, so I woke up deliciously late. Then I went to the pharmacy to pick up my drugs, to the nail salon to get my eyebrows, fingers, and toes did, and to the Hair Cuttery for a much-needed touch-up. The last time I got a haircut, I asked the hairdresser to leave my hair long on the right-hand side, because I have a bald spot left over from an EEG contact as a preemie. It looked great, except that for some ungodly reason, she cut the left-hand side much shorter. It drove me batshit crazy, so when I went to the salon today, I told the hairdresser that I wanted to go full-on asymetrical, and to fade it up to my hairline on the left…. because it looks so much better now that it’s intentional instead of just looking like a really cheap haircut. In fact, the cut is so perfect that I don’t even need product, but when I got home, I put some Murray’s Superior Hairdressing Pomade in it, anyway, just for shine. It’s kind of a shorter version of Eleven‘s hair, of which I approve (But Ten‘s hair is so much cuter… but you see, mine goes to Eleven).

I’m not getting ready for anything special, just felt like treating myself today because I haven’t taken care of myself in a while. I even got acrylic nails so that the polish would last longer. It’s kind of a maroon color, to match both warm and cold colors. My toes are painted with a gun metal gray base coat and silver top coat, slick as a Bond Aston Martin. It just makes me feel good to look good, and my hair is especially cute with my nerdy Ira Glasses.

Tomorrow I’m going to The Mall with Hawkeye for the Folklife Festival put on by the Smithsonian, and then meeting T-money at Busboys & Poets for Sparkle, the queer spoken word event that I thought was on Friday (if you’re offended by the word queer, I’m sorry. I’m old and I can’t remember all the letters.).

As an aside, that reminds me of my mother, Carolyn, teaching me how to sing the alphabet song when I was a toddler. For the longest time, I thought the words were “A, B, C, D, E, F, Geeeee…. H, I, J, K, Carolyn N, O, P.” I was very physically delayed, and thus, precocious mentally because I had a lot of time to sit around and think about things, but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t mess things up once in a while. For the longest time, I also thought “The Little Drummer Boy” started out, “Come, Beethoven….” I am still not the best with lyrics. Even as an adult. I don’t remember how old I was, but old enough, but I found myself DYING of laughter during a worship service when we were singing “All Hail the Pow’r of Jesus’ Name” and I accidentally sang “angels prostate fall.” I couldn’t get the image out of my head and of course, when it is inappropriate to laugh, it makes me laugh even harder.

However, music is woven into my neurons, and even though I don’t remember lyrics to anything, ever, I can sing pretty much any melody I’ve ever heard. Lindsay is the lyrics person. I have people to do that for me. πŸ™‚

Speaking of Lindsay, she and Matt are in Honduras right now and I asked them to bring me back a jersey. Lindsay said, “Soccer?” I said, “in my world there are no other kinds of jerseys.” Which is only funny because I have two football jerseys, as well. They were both Christmas gifts from Allyn, Dana’s mom, and they are priceless to me. One is Christopher Kluwe’s Vikings jersey, because when he started writing marriage equality blog entries in Minneapolis I had to have one. I also have Michael Sam’s Rams jersey, because I thought it was important to have the jersey of the first NFL player to come out publicly. I was crushed when he was cut, and when it was a possibility that he was going to be picked up by the Dallas Cowboys, I caused Dana such pain by saying I’d have to get a Cowboys jersey, too. You don’t tell a Redskins fan you want a Cowboys jersey. It’s just not done (however, Dana did give me leniency on the subject knowing that I’d grown up two and a half hours north of Dallas. If I’d been a bandwagon fan, I don’t think she would have married me in the first place . πŸ˜› ).

I don’t know what position either one of them played, but I wear my Kluwe jersey often (my Sam jersey fits like a dress). When people ask me what position he plays, I say, “blogger.” If they say, “no, really,” I just stare blankly.

Yes, I know he was a punter. I think. But it’s much funnier my way.

I told Chris what I do when people ask me what position he plays, and he said, “LOL… works for me.” I’ve never met him, I just Tweeted him about it and was glad to get a reply.

Because it’s supposed to thunderstorm on Monday, fireworks are up in the air for DC (see what I did there?). However, I will tell you my fondest 4th memory of DC from 2001. Kathleen and I went to our friend Molly’s apartment building in downtown and there, from the rooftop, we watched the DC fireworks, with the Maryland and Virginia fireworks going off in the background. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and a memory that will stay with me forever, especially now that I’ve put it here.

Hawkeye and I should probably come up with an alternate plan in case it’s supposed to thunderstorm tomorrow, too, but we’ll figure it out. It’s a shame that in DC, there’s nothing to do.

πŸ˜‰

At the very least, we can admire my hair.

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