And a quiet, quiet office.
I spent last Friday with Sailor Girl. We began the evening at a very crowded First Friday,
hanging out drinking with the people from Red Handed Tattoo at Cornerstone Gallery. We left early (at the urging of Sailor Girl) and headed back over to her side of town to two different bars. Many beers, several Buttery Nipples, thinking we were locked out of the truck, and lots of laughs later...we made it back to her place. Saturday was spent in what I was convinced was going to be my death bed. Then, my Knight in Shining Armor showed up to take care of me. It was very sweet. I recovered, not so gracefully, and we spent Sunday together...snuggling on the couch with coffee and Hall&Oats (Don't ask. Yacht Rock is awesome, ok?), eating a nice breakfast outside, walking around the Farmers Market, and just generally enjoying each other.
Mike and I have been doing wonderful. Something has changed with us in a good way (or maybe something has changed with me?). We went out for Cuban food/mojitos last week (Havana Grill. You must go there.), spent some time together this weekend, and he came over last night to make me and the kids a Mardi Gras dinner. Shrimp po boys and red beans and dirty rice with sausage. Yum! And he brought wine. Our food fest was followed by "a nasty ass, hot, steamy pre-marital boink-fest" (those are his words).
I am finally going to a Zumba class tomorrow night, which should be great fun. I'm going to start going Thursday nights and Saturday mornings. I kind of wish I had a friend to go with, though.
This weekend, I am helping Mike to celebrate his birthday by taking him to see the Cubs play. It's one of his life-long dreams and I tried to keep it a secret, but he knows me too well. All I had to do was say we were going to be outside and he guessed what we were doing. One day, I will actually surprise him with something. It's a new goal of mine.
The kids? They're the same. Little Man consistently wears his hair in a mohawk and is stylin' the skinny jeans. How I hated to buy those. He was doing his hair in my bathroom this morning, and all I could say was, "Those jeans are so...tight!". His response: "So?". I'm giving up on that. It makes him look older and I think it freaks me out a little. Mini-Me still refuses to clean her room. It is a shit-hole. I keep saying that I am not going to go in there and do it myself, but it is inevitable that I probably will. She has also been hanging out with Sugar Free again. Can you say "Drama Waiting to Happen"?