***EDIT: http://rocknrollsoulsaver.blogspot.com WILL, in fact, be host to the PICTURE (or pictures) OF THE DAY. I'm scrapping the song lyric thing because while I'm into it NOW, I know I'll get tired of it again eventually. I never get tired of goofy pictures of me and my friends. Just please don't masturbate to them.***
So the 30th celebration of Phoebe's birth has come to an end after last night's festivities. Some key guests were absent due to a run away dog (who refuses to put a brand-new dog on a leash?), a supposed birth, a seizing cat (get well soon, Ponch), and alleged family loyalty and accumulating chores. Regardless, it was a good time, even if Potsie only got through 8 minutes of the Hour of Power. The birthday girl seemed quite pleased with the turn out and I was quite pleased that I got to dance with her to that Deke Dickerson song about roasted chicken! Pete, while absent and on a camping trip, was there via video tape, drinking beer, hanging on the coach, and commenting on various party aspects. Clever boy, that Pete.
And we all got our share of the Pussyfoot buttons...and they are H-O-T!!!
While my plan was to drink myself into a coma, spend the night at Casa del Phoebe, and wake up with a monster hangover, that is not what actually took place. I seemed to be on my way, rockin' the 40s, but I hit a detour somewhere. Starting but not finishing Hour of Power set my downward spiral in motion, then I ate 3 pieces of pizza which soaked up a lot of my hard work, and lots of the core kids didn't seem to be drinking their usual quota. Switchblade hasn't been the same since he threw up on his futon, Uncle Ben seemed fairly out of sorts, Tessa doesn't drink, and Little Jen was tired and bailed early.
Tessa had my 2 wedding photos in her wallet. I wanted to cry. I told her to burn them.
Penciled in on my schedule for today is a final event to celebrate Phoebe's 30 years rockin' on this planet: lunch wherever she wants to go! However, I can't be sure if she'll have the desire to go to lunch or the stamina. She could have done 10 table dances, 2 keg stands, and her weight in beer bongs after I left at midnight, for all I know. So I guess I'll hold my growling stomach tight until noon and if I don't hear from her...frown...I'll be forced to make a trip to the grocery store in order to feed the beast. The alternative plan for the day includes cleaning my room, watching a towering pile of borrowed DVDs, and snoozing on and off as I see fit.
So combining last night with Little Jen's interesting 19th birthday shin-dig Friday night, I'd say this was a decent weekend. And I'm supposed to spend the night in the mitten tomorrow night but I'll believe THAT when I see it. Sadly, the week already has a black cloud hanging over it as I will be travelling to Columbus to say good-bye to Josh Johnson and support my Queen B. Keep her and her family in your thoughts, especially on what will be a very rough Tuesday.
No comments:
Post a Comment