In which a full weekend looms! Finally, proof that God loves me and wants me to be happy!
Tonight, I have an all-girl dinner date with Aimée and Barbara, at Aimée’s house. Barbara’s making tofu enchiladas and I’m totally excited. (She’s in town for some battle of the bands thing Bambu did a few nights ago; normally I don’t see her so many times in a year.) After dinner, I have rehearsal with House 11. I haven’t seen my band in a week and dang if I didn’t miss those little rascals.
Tomorrow I’m working, because Buzz has been out of the office nursing his woman — who just had eye surgery — back to health, and he won’t be in again tomorrow for that reason. Since I need the hours, this working-on-Friday thing is actually good news.
And tomorrow night? A PARTY! A bona fide motherfucking actual party. The Holy Couple are having their engagement party at the Dead Cock, upstairs in the new restaurant for a small group and then a free-for-all down in the bar for the rest of the evening. It’s about time there was an event; no one’s bothered to throw a big party in this town in ages. I’m seriously thinking of taking seperate cars so that Bread can leave at 9:30* without utterly pissing me off.
I’m going to wear my tux pants and the shoes I bought for New Year. I haven’t made a decision on what top to wear yet, but I don’t have many tops to choose from. In fact it’ll probably choose itself by virtue of being the only one that’s clean and matches my slacks.
(*Last Friday Bread and I went out. Twenty minutes after people I actually knew showed up, Bread said, “Are you going to kill me if I tell you I want to leave now?” ARGH! We’d been there for two hours by that point, and I’d quietly sat by myself reading a book while he socialized and played pool with his friends and monopolized the juke box. When folks I knew showed up and the tunes swung toward dance instead of “classic rock,” he suddenly got tired and we had to go home. *bangs head on desk* Another chilly drive home where I fumed and stared out the window. Ah, wifedom.)
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Hey! That’s how I usually choose my clothes too.
Stop stealing all my ideas 😉
*smooch*
love you 🙂
The Dead Cock? Is that for real!? I love it…
There’s actually a place called “the Dead Cock” in your area? And it doesn’t refer to Edmund White?
It’s a bar called the Red Rock. We call it the Dead Cock because, hell, who wouldn’t?
OK, that was a little bit of a low blog. But you know what? You get your tux pants on, look hot, go out there and have a fantastic time 🙂
Yessir! 🙂 -m
tofu enchiladas? Wow, talk about how you guys make something fabulous. 🙂
tux pants are so hot. Enjoy your partay.