We went shopping again today. I bought candles and a tablecloth and books. And 100% fruit juice. And a new eye pencil.
At least I'm happy with the little things. Finding 100% fruit juice on sale for $2 a bottle? Totally made my day. AND THEN I found out the books at Book & Music Exchange were buy one, get one free. I mean, who could be sad with shit like this going down at every turn? AND Jimi was right there with me, all kissy kissy lovey dovey and super sexy strong manly looking. Could it even get better than this? I think not.
So then we drove out to J-town to go to the Gaslight Festival with my Momma. I'm this >-< close to instituting a "You can't tell Momma No" rule in my life. Because, really, who am I to be all "No, Mom, I don't want to spend time with you even though you birthed me and raised me and gave me money every time i needed it and still buy me awesome birthday and Christmas gifts."? I can't say no to my mom without a good reason, I've decided. Because that would make me a jerk. And I don't want to be a jerk. And it's not like my Momma's needy. She just wants to see me every now and then.
So we went to Gaslight. Jimi, sweet Jimi, he even went along, knowing there would be much walking to get there, and then much shuffling (the non-walk of festival/fair/car-show goers - the sort of half-step shuffle people do when there's too much of a crowd to enable actual full-stride steps), and probably a large amount of "Oh! Look at this..." as Momma and I ogled some random piece of homemade crap that someone was hawking for $5 at an overpriced "Official Gaslight Festival Vendor" booth, before culminating in the ever unpopular long walk home at the end of the night, half drunk and completely exhausted from fighting the crowds and the cheap boozy atmosphere.
Needless to say, we had a fabulous time. A member of Momma's chorus was singing with a band that was playing in front of the old Ferd Grisanti's. We listened to most of a set, and Momma and I even danced. Poorly, but still. It was fun.
Dylan was home when we got back to the house, and there was a lingering smell of pot smoke outside. Imagine that. He and Jimi watched an episode of Boondocks while me and Momma went out front to smoke cigarettes and talk about women stuff.
Jimi crashed almost as soon as we got home. I hopped on the computer, intending to check my Facebook while the dog ate his dinner. (The dog doesn't eat when we're not home. And since he usually eats his dinner in the early evening, when we leave around that time, he'll leave his dinner sitting in his bowl until we get home.) So I was trying to stay up just long enough for Finn to eat his dinner, and maybe go outside for a poo, but I got distracted by a Facebook conversation and then I started writing this and now here we are. Jimi's snoring in the next room and Finn is keeping my side of the bed warm until I come along and rudely banish him to "YOUR bed, Finn. Go to YOUR bed."
And now I'd like some pizza. But it's one a.m. Should I go to bed hungry, or stay up another hour to heat up and eat some pizza? Gosh, life is full of hard choices.