Ok, we all know that I came from a really unfortunate home town. I think we've established that over the last several posts, and for some odd reason I catch shit about it any time I ever mention the name of my home town to people who have had the distinct pleasure of ever visiting the fair little hamlet firsthand. (I think this is why I developed the warped sense of humor I now have, because if it weren't for that, I'd have done myself in YEARS ago because of the sheer unfortunate nature of it all... And I know that suicide is nothing to joke about, but like I said I'm warped, and this is my blog, so get over it... If you're a regular here, you know better!)
So in the interest of preserving my own sanity, I have pursued activities that get me away from the house for hours on end, and hopefully, usually involve the imbibing of alcohol in large quantities.
Thursday night was no exception. I went with my dear old friend Shannon to see our local minor league team play some ball... As if the prospect of watching baseball wasn't enough to lure me away from another night of watching "So You Think You Can Dance" with the resident octogenarian, it was also "Thirsty Thursday" at the ball park. Beer was $1.00! (Please, trust me when I tell you that dollar beers at the minor league baseball game on Thursdays is nice if you are already stuck in this sparrow-fart of a town, but certainly no reason to flock here if you are otherwise residentially established... No, REALLY. TRUST ME!!)
At the game, Shannon showed off her hot new phone! (And yes, that is one of those old phones that doesn't even have a SIM card and is only about 2 steps from being a Zack Morris brick phone... But it's new for her, so we don't judge.)
Here's a view of the ball park... If you have ever seen the movie "A League of Their Own" then you have seen this field before. The bulk of the movie was shot here. I ought to know. I was trapped here back then too.
I also mentioned that I have been charged with the care of my nephews... And that we played with Play Doh... Here is the proof!
And here's one of my sister playing with my other nephew upon her return from work... Because they are just so damn cute!
Since you saw Shannon and her lovely phone, perhaps we should introduce you to her dog, Doogie. (Yes, as in "Howser, M.D.")
Friday night, despite the fact that there isn't really any great place to go and hang out, my old pal Whitney and I went to get some BIG beers at a place called "Old Chicago." (Either the Chicago I live in is something from another, more fabulous, and pricier time, or I was just so desperate to have some association with the city I so dearly love, that this is where we ended up.) Clearly Whitney is very excited.
And to prove I was actually there, rather than just gathering random pictures from the internet to make me sound cooler than the nerd that I actually am, (which is what I have a sneaking suspicion Marcia does,) I had a waiter, (who I actually knew from grade school) take a picture of us being kind of awesome.
I suppose I will further entertain you by telling you a little story. Now, its important that you remember that my grandfather is 85, and that his hearing is AWFUL, and that his sight is EVEN WORSE. Apparently I have been pretty successful in staying under his radar, because when I got home from drinking with Whitney, my mom tells me this amusing little anecdote.
After I left to go out, my grandfather says to my mom, "Uhh, are you at all concerned about your daughter's personal hygiene?"
My mom, clearly not following what he was implying, because all of her senses are functional asked him what he meant.
"Well, I don't think that she has showered the whole time she's been here."
"Umm, dad, didn't you just see her an hour ago? She came down with wet hair... She has showered every day including today, shortly before she left to go out."
Apparently, while I know I have showered daily, and my mom knows I have showered, and I don't think that I am producing any pungent or offensive odors, or anything like Eau de Hobo, because I have not announced my showering, or because his senses are not hearing the shower running, or seeing me come out with wet hair, it has not happened. Apparently my hygiene is a cause for concern.
If I had known a few days ago that my grandfather was one to adhere to the "If I didn't see it, it didn't happen" policy, I'd have taken up some interesting hobbies... Like, say.... Armed burglary! I mean the old man would have been a stellar alibi! I mean really, who better than my 85 year old grandpa to tell the fuzz, "OH, no officer! It couldn't have been her! She can't even manage to make it up to the shower, there's no way she'd ever get far enough out of the house to rob 5 convenience stores, a Wal Mart, a liquor store, three federal banks, an armored car, and little Susie's lemonade stand! ...Why she's been here all day! I haven't seen or heard her leave once!"
Damn, another opportunity missed.
Guess I'll just have to make my money betting on the grey ponies at the track!