There hasn’t been a whole lot to write about lately. Work is crazy busy this week, which is good because I don’t do well when I’m bored. (Hello, online games! Ah Rocket Mania, how I love you so.) And I’m actually enjoying the work that I’m doing, so that’s fantastic.
This past weekend, since Dave was in Oregon, Kris and I had sort of a “girls’ weekend”. Which doesn’t really mean much of anything, it’s not like we stayed up late doing each other’s hair and painting our toenails or anything. But we were on our own, without the presence of males (save for one neutered male cat, Beaumont), so I guess that’s close enough. Saturday, we drove around Seattle and checked out neighborhoods, so Kris can think about where she wants to live when she gets an apartment. We took a few photos, which will be online soon. We brought Lucky with us too, because we thought that she enjoyed riding in the car. As it turns out, she either ate too much grass when we stopped at the park, or else she got motion sickness, because she barfed all over the backseat. That was my first exposure to dog barf, and let me tell you, it is at least a thousand times grosser than cat barf. My god, that was horrifying. It reminded me of why I’m (still pretty much) a cat person.
That night, we went out for dinner, played pool and drank many beers. Well, I only had two beers because I had to drive. But I drank many more after we got home because I needed to catch up with Kris’s tipsiness. And boy, did I ever. I think we both passed out around 1 a.m. Because apparently we are old, and we can’t stay up all night anymore. But see what I mean about not having a stereotypical girls’ weekend? We are all about the beer and pool.
Sunday morning, Dave got home from Oregon – yay! We went to the store, stocked up on ridiculous amounts of groceries, watched the Oscars, and called it a night.
Last night was “all-you-can-eat crab legs” night at a restaurant that I normally consider somewhat sketchy, but I loves me some crab legs, so Kris and I went anyway. Dave doesn’t eat shellfish, and his tummy wasn’t feeling too good, so he didn’t come with us. I tease him about his anti-shellfish habits a lot, but seriously, it’s not like he’s allergic or anything. He just doesn’t like the whole “cracking of the shell” element. He’ll eat crab cakes, though. Just so long as he doesn’t have to get the meat out of the shell himself, he’s fine. He has no idea what he’s missing out on. Kee-razy. And for the record, sketchy restaurant or no, the crab legs were awesome.
And, that’s about it. I have (literally) about a dozen meetings between now and Friday, so I’ll try to update again soon, hopefully with something more interesting than this post, but don’t worry if you don’t hear from me.
Shellfish + Cracking Shells = Heaven
Sounds like a fun weekend.