Friday morning I recieved a
The only bummer? Josh Ritter was playing on Sunday night. I knew this going in, and had kind of succommbed to the fact that I wasn't going to be able to see him so I didn't let it ruin my day. Positive thinking? Maybe. Though I'm sure the 12 beers I slammed had something to do with said "positive thinking" as well.
On Sunday, I saw Toy Story 3 (in 3-D) with B. Who is 22 years old and sobbed her way through pretty much the whole last half of the movie? THIS GIRL. I'm borderline embarassed for myself but IT WAS SO SAD. Who would have thought I'd be able to relate so much to a Pixar movie. NOT ME.
We then went over to our friend Alicia's to hang out and pretty much decided that Sunday's are now going to be pot-luck dinners with everyone. This idea excites me way more than it should, given that I don't cook...ever. Yeah, I'm that girl who obsesses over Rachael Ray (and uh, has had a subscription to her magazine since it first came out) It's not that I don't like to, I'm just horribly lazy and never do. However, I did get down on cutting those carrots and tomatoes for that salad though. My backlog of issues of ED w/ RR will sure come in handy this summer, I think.
But Monday, oh glorious and wonderful Monday. Normally, I hate the day. And this one didn't start off any differently, other than the fact I had to get up earlier than usual to water plants and ended up SHOOTING MYSELF IN THE FACE with the hose. I honestly don't think there's any scenario in the world that's a worse way to be forced to wake up. And this was pre-coffee too so, let's just imagine how well that went over for a second... It's was UGLY.
So, flashforward. I'm driving to work, still flaming pissed / hating the world for the cruel wakeup call I recieved two hours earlier (because you know, it's the UNIVERSE'S FAULT for leaving the hose upturned from the previous morning) and I'm just about to get on the freeway when I see the George's getting off the freeway and motioning for me to turn around and pull over. So, I do. And greet them with some sort of horribly sarcastic and rude remark because again, it was all Kevin's fault I got shot in the face because they were HIS plants that I was watering. The conversation went something like this:
K: "We have something for you"
S: "Yeah, we couldn't wait to give it to you."
Me: "It better be like, 'you got Josh Ritter's phone number for me' good considering I got up early to water your plants this morning and took a shot from the hose STRAIGHT TO THE FUCKING FACE."
I honestly don't know how people can even stand to be around me sometimes, with my charming and polite demeanor and everything.
But then, oh THEN, they pull out this little number:
...and I just started screaming. I mean SCA-REAM-ING. Full on, jabbering incoherantly, can't get out of my car because the door is locked and I don't realize it, OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD SHUT UP. IS THIS HAPPENING BECAUSE THIS CAN'T BE REAL LIFE, I THINK I MIGHT BE DEAD.
Total and complete freak-out ensued. In public. At 8:30 in the morning. And I DIDN'T EVEN CARE. Hearing them talk about his set (it was amazing, he was so good) and how NICE Josh was to all his fans (he's a big hugger apparently, shoot me now) was just awesome. And how they both knew they'd have to go over and get him to sign something for me. It's just, really cool. I didn't expect it and I'm just glad that even if I couldn't be there, they could be to appreciate how awesome this guy is. I can't thank them enough for thinking of me that night.
Suck on that, Monday.
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