This weekend was full of WIN and moments of pure awesomeness, but before I dive into it all let me apologize for what I’ll call the Great Xanga Depression. For some reason I was unable to fully wrap my head around what was going on around me. I was unable to be poetic with any descriptions and my lack of drama depleted my artistic interpretation that creates these so wonderful Xanga monologues that you all love and adore. My weekend was fierce, and I wish I could have spent time with Pete, Patrick and Beth (all of whom called me to do stuff this weekend).
Friday was a whirlpool of work and relaxation which consisted of cleaning out the Bookmobile Room, taking spreadsheer 101 from my boss and playing the most intense Jenga games ever known. The Bookmobile is one of my prized duties at work and is something that I’ve sort of grown a little attached too. It travels to 16 different IPS schools during the school year, each school getting 3 seperate visits. Books are just given away, not lent out like on the lame library bookmobile. If you consider that each of these schools has around 250 kids average that makes a total of 12,000 books given away by the Bookmobile. These books don’t drop out of the sky. We order them and keep them filed away in my second “Office”, the Bookmobile Room.
The inner sanctum of non-profit literacy reformation is located in the garage at my office. It’s a small room, about 7.5 feet in width and 12 feet in length (if that big). Inside there is a table and a counter top shelf, and stacks and stacks of books. These books get shipped ot us in boxes though, and here lies the true beast of the Bookmobile Room. My boss feels it’s necessary to sav EVERY box we get. She stacks them corners, on shelfs and on the counter. She claims, “you never know when you’ll need a good box!”, which is even more hillarious wen you consider that she’s a lesbian. I love her though, as she is one of the most original people I’ve ever met. We managed to throw away around 100 boxes I think, but never fear, we have some left in case we get the urge to build a giant box castle in the garage.
After work I went home and cleaned and then ventured to the North side to spend some quality time with Co-Worker Ashley. Now I have a few issues with the North side as many people know. It features round-abouts which come across as useless slabs on concrete chucked into the middle of an intersection. FAIL! Ashley even has some in her apartment complex, however when I attempted to “round” one, an SUV that was burning gas and taking up too much space just wouldn’t move and continue around. She sat there, glaring at me as if I had caused some inconvience because I was demanding she move out of my way and proceed on to whatever useless thing she was planning to do. I can get over her SUV, her stupidity and her general FAILishness, but when someone glares and rolls there eyes at me I take it personally. She was a bitch.
I proceeded to Ashley’s where we drank beer, ordered Pizza and created the tallest Jenga tower known to man. I don’t know if it was all the box stacking we had participated in at work or our gentle fingers which created our masterpiece, but the Jenga vibe was with us and nothing was going to knock these towers down. They’d wabble and tilt, but we were full of WIN. After watching a bit of “Intervention” which featured a morphine addict I called it a night and headed home for some sleep.
I awoke bright eyed and ready for fun on Saturday and I knew I had a full day planned. I went to work at Big Daddies where the day was nothing extravagant. The same music, the same poker players, the same tips I usually get, but something seemed homey to it all. I’ve grown accustomed to spending my Saturday afternoons bartending and the money isn’t bad. Fortunately time flew by and I soon found myself sitting down and having a beer with my friend Jayma. I sat down while she played poker and I was given some pointers. Everyone wanted me to play, clearly so they could take my money, but I knew it wasn’t a good idea. 7 beers and 4 shots later I headed home for supplies and then it was off to Uno’s for dinner.
I arrived at Uno’s freshly intoxicated and feeling quite hungry. I ate steak tips and then joined up with my friend Tiffany and Joe. The three of us were planning an evening with fellow co-worker Sherry who has a house somewhere on 16th street. We left Uno’s and headed to her home to drop off our stuff. Pete called on the way, but seeing as how I has planned this evening in advance I couldn’t break my stride. At Sherry’s we had some more beers and set up beds, then left for a bar called Rockets. WOW. This place was full of 3BWs (Big Black Beautiful Women). they dressed in bright green and fushia while singing loudly and being totally hillarious. Clearly we were outsiders, but everyone was polite to us and one guy even came and shot pool with us. His name was….Baby Boy. I asked him repeatedly what his name really was but he kept insisting that everyone called him Baby Boy. I felt silly saying it outloud, so I resorted to calling him BB.
After 15 Captain and cokes we headed back to Sherry’s where more Jenga (though we weren’t very good), Brain Warp and Euchere took place. This was all followed by a brief wrestling tournament which I lost and some stupid card game that none of us knew how to play. It had something to do with winkng at people, but that’s all I understood. Anyhow, the lots of us went to bed and that was that.
I awoke at 10:30, Joe Tiffany and I still intoxicated from the night’s events. We ventured to Bob Evans after cleaning Sherry’s home and found ourselves scarfing down French Toast, Sausage, Eggs and other breakfast essentials. It had been a long time since I has eaten breakfast food, but it was sorely needed. Our waitress was deaf, but had a hearing aid and a great personality so it made the hung-over morning much more tolerable. After Breakfast I headed home for some bonus sleep but was awaken when the Immigrant Song began blasting out of my cell phone. My dad has invited me to dinner, but I had to decline as I was entirely too out of it for public appearances. Fortunately, he sent my sister over to my house with a plate of food. Now that’s parental loving.
I lounged around and cleaned after that, but then I began reading a book and laid back in bed. It was a fun weekend, but I really wish I had met up with my pals from BSU. I’m sure they had a blast. Remember to keep your apple juice close by, to always remember 309 and love your shetlands.
P.S. Kiki Update: she was given to my sisters dogs who now affectionatly refer to her as Baby Girl. If you ask them where Baby is they quickly race to get her. While she is missing an eye and a leg and her fur is slobbery she is living it up and being loved just as much.
shetlandponytastic 