May old acquaintance be forgot...

I think I mentioned several times in the past month or so that I would update you on things. In my defense, each day that passes makes me one day older, and, (here’s the important part, folks) therefore that much more mentally impaired. In other words, I forget things. Lots and lots of things.

For example, last night I showed up to class and totally forgot to write up a research paper proposal. Which was due last night, by the way.

So yeah, I forgot to update you all on a few things. I don’t believe I told you how much I did not enjoy Sweeney Todd, nor did I mention how totally rockin’ my Tuscan Pot Roast turned out for that dinner party (my first pot roast ever and the fans, they went wild!), and I think I may even have left out the fact that I attended Andrew’s Non-Profit Fund Silent Auction on Saturday night and went through a whole gamut of emotions. First, I was hungry, but Andrew took care of that by having the whole event catered. I stuffed everything I laid eyes on into my maw and then some – I think I finally stopped when I realized that, no matter how many crumbs had fallen, tablecloths do not taste good.

There were sweet potato fries, macaroni and cheese, quesadillas (both chicken and veggie), tortilla chips and salsa/guac/sour cream, beef on a stick, chicken on a stick, roast beast sandwiches, focacia with plum tomatoes and mozzarella, chocolate chip cookies, some desert that looked like chocolate moose in a chocolate cup topped with chocolate and more chocolate…

Needless to say, I finally quenched the hunger demons and was able to more rationally review the items up for auction. And while I would have really loved that round of low stakes poker with Professor So-and-So, or that dinner out with the Dean, I had my heart set on that “Date with Andrew McLaughlin.” So I gathered my ones and my pom-poms and prepared myself to scream like a twenty-one year old virgin at her first sighting of the Beatles.

Have I hyped the event enough? Because it was awesomeness personified. Until the emcees ran over on time and the staff at the Clarendon Ballroom threatened to turn off the mic. What that meant for me is that the “Property of Andrew McLovin” tattoo I had inked on my ass that afternoon would never see the light of day because they skipped four live auction items in favor of auctioning off the real crowd pleaser: an African safari. My hopes and my dreams at that moment can be described in a word: crushed.

So my deflated pom-poms and I gave Andrew a big hug, expressed our sympathy for Andrew not being able to glory in the adulation of all those MBA women fighting over his hot business school bod, and dragged our feet to the door.

As an aside, Andrew is now the proud owner of a night of low-stakes poker with Professor So-and-So and seven of his closest friends. For the low-low price of $900. So if you live in the DC Metropolitan area, have an interest in poker, and have an extra $100 to help a young Irishman out, Andrew is more than happy to hear from you.

This weekend wasn’t only about undressing Andrew in my mind, though. I also hosted a pre-Valentine’s Day celebration with the girls. We had candy, Pirate’s Booty, tofu and hearts of palm salad, scones, tea, brownies, cheese and crackers, soda, tortilla chips and salsa…and most importantly, Colin Firth. Yes, for five hours, we soaked in all the Pride and Prejudice five women can be expected to endure. There were highs, there were lows, and I don’t believe I can ever convince Marilyn to watch that movie again. It was pretty awesome.

There were also three days lost to balancing Anthony’s checkbook and preparing our tax documents for the accountant. I don’t even want to talk about it so let’s not go there, ‘kay?

I really want to say that it was the most extraordinary weekend I’ve ever had, and while I was ever so happy to see so many familiar faces, it really ruined me academically and I am spending another frenetic week just barely scraping by in class. So, in the spirit of some of Jane Austen’s most classic heroines, I resolve to be less frivolous, more hard-working, and a lot less spontaneous. This next weekend will entirely be devoted to school (What was that I heard? I believe it sounded like a dying rabbit, but it almost reminded me of Anthony railing at the heavens…)

The adult version of Madlibs

I AM.
I WANT so much out of life, including a house with a yard and a kitchen in which both Anthony and I can cook – at the same time, a career I love, an income with which I can support my family, and enough cash to travel the world in style.
I WISH I had a miniature pig to cuddle.
I HATE DC cabbies. Only DC cabbies. What the hell is their problem?
I MISS my family and friends – why can’t we all live in the same town/city?
I FEAR dying before I figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
I HEAR voices in my head telling me to avoid my homework.
I WONDER if every time a bell rings, an angel really gets his wings.
I REGRET former acts of rashness and anger.
I DANCE when no one is looking.
I SING for myself, but much less than I used to.
I CRY during commercials, movies – I’m welling up even now.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS scrapbooks, when I get the time (5 years behind and counting, my friends).
I WRITE to let people know I care and that I’m still here, livin’.
I CONFUSE some people all of the time and all people some of the time.
I NEED more time…to spend with Anthony (and Grace and Pookie), to write, to scrapbook, to see my friends, to read for class....
I SHOULD call people more often – at least as often as I think of them.
I START nothing that I do not finish.
I FINISH people’s sentences when they take too long to catch their breath.
I'M GLAD da’ Momma gets it. She so does.

Yoinked from Musicguy.