Elise came home from work on Saturday and we were dead set on doing something. Anything. Something new. Something fun. Something adventurous. We went to Blockbuster and rented Raising Arizona. We came home and instead of watching the movie, we sat on the back patio and talked. So not only did we not do anything new and exciting, we didn’t even watch the damn movie we rented that night.
We got up on Sunday and shopped for bedroom furniture. Again. I gotta tell you, I’m not really liking what I’m seeing out there. Hear that, furniture making people? Make something cool and inexpensive and timeless and rugged and rustic and classic and some other things. Surprise me. As of now, I’m letting Elise proxy vote for me. I want to get our bedroom done so we can take the existing furniture and use it for the guest bedroom.
Victor met up with us at the Oak and Pine Superstore. Nothing there. So we went to Rooms to Go. Nothing there either. So we went to Bone Daddy’s, thinking we could get some hot wings. No hot wings. I heard Bone Daddy’s was a Hooter’s knock off, so why not try some knock off wings? We all had a beer and went up the road to Pluckers. Elise pointed out that she preferred the hot waitresses over at Bone Daddy’s (pretty slick, eh? See, I made it sound like Elise was checking out the waitresses but really it was Victor) but the wings at Pluckers made up for the lack of scenery. Pluckers’ wings were mighty fine. Mighty hot too.
After dinner we went to the theater and watched Napoleon Dynamite. Again. It was Victor’s first time seeing it. Again I found myself grinning and nearly peeing myself due to laughter throughout the movie. Elise’s and my vocabulary have changed significantly. We now find ourselves saying, on a regular basis, things like: “Gosh”, “Idiot”, “Sweet”, “Dang”, “T.O.’d” and “Peace out”. Elise and I have decided that Kip is our favorite character. I think Napoleon Dynamite is a movie that everyone can somehow relate to. I just watched some of the clips on the the website and want to see it again. But I won’t.
Anyway. Elise and I came home on Sunday and watched Raising Arizona. Monday came all too early. Again.
In other news. My ten year high school reunion was supposed to be this upcoming weekend. A small group of us that I will refer to as the Bellville High School Class of 1994 Ten Year Reunion Planning Committee Meeting Team Association (BHSCO1994TYRPCMTA for short) met many months ago to plan the reunion. We did all of the typical work that goes along with planning a reunion. We contacted people who contacted other people so we could compile a list of classmates to contact and inform them of the reunion. We made invitations. We built a website. We did everything in a timely manner. We received 12 responses. We waited. We waited. We talked. We decided to cancel the reunion. When we did that, everyone chimed in. Anyway – not to get into it but some classmates are going to Bellville and having a picnic. Others (myself included) are going to New Braunsfel to float the river on Saturday. The class has been divided. There have been disgruntled e-mails that have been exchanged. There have been mumbles beneath breaths. There is subtle hostility. I don’t know how the Bellville mini-reunion is going but I hope it goes well. The river trip for the weekend started out being over-managed. At one point I was a little “T.O.’d” with the divided situation. I thought about sending an e-mail to the other side, but I didn’t. I guess the moral of the story is you can’t please everyone. Of course, you can’t please anyone if no one bothers to RSVP.
So if I don’t update the website before the weekend, I wish both sides a joyous mini reunion. No I don’t. What am I saying? I want to tight-roll the legs of my Bugle Boy jeans, do the Cabbage Patch and accidentally say something to piss off my best friend’s girlfriend who happens to be best friends with the girl that I’ve had a crush on since Ms. Damel’s 7th grade English class whose brother is the smartest kid in class and usually lets me borrow his homework so I can copy it during lunch but now probably won’t because I pissed that one girl off and because of all of this a rumor started that I was making out with a pair of drumsticks behind the bleachers during a pep rally and so suddenly I become the ostracized stinky kid on the bus and the other fellas will no longer let me be in there plastic trash can drum circle during lunch which will ultimately leave me to cry and make mix tapes for someone who will never understand.
Yes, it’s been ten years. Peace out.