Stories

It's been a fun week. A busy week. A teensy bit stressful (the guy who reinstated my unemployment benefits forgot to file the paperwork and it took me nearly a full week to find this out because getting a real human being at EDD is next to impossible, and they also don't like to listen to their voice mail, apparently. All's well that ends well, however, and my money is safely in my account now, so I can pay my bloomin' bills).

Anyway, I had some time for fun this week. Wednesday was a crazy day of getting Keane tickets (got 'em! They're MINE ALL MINE) and giving M. the Reasonable a Keane CD (ask and you shall receive...). No word yet on what he thinks, as I haven't seen him since then.

Wednesday evening, I met Meghan for dinner and a pint at Kinnee O'Reilly's Irish Pub. She had told me to "dress hot," so I wore my size 6 jeans and a red tank top.

My pendant says "Mischief Managed." Mischief is managed, indeed.

I had a pint of Magner's cider and it was awesome. Cali Swimmy approved:

It's always lovely to catch up with Meghan, and we spent several hours just chatting and enjoying our food and pints.

Yesterday, one of Dad's long-time military friends, Barry, came to visit. He lives in Arizona these days, and was in California for a funeral. He stopped by to see Dad and another old friend of theirs, Vern. Vern and his wife Clare live here in Lincoln and are quite good friends of my parents.

All of these people were in each others' weddings and whatnot--Dad, Vern and Barry go back to nav school in the 60s. These are friendships that run very deep.

I absolutely love Vern and Clare, and I know so many stories about Dad and Barry that I felt like I knew him even though I hadn't seen him since I was a kid. It was fun to sit around chatting with him and my parents. I tagged along with all of them to a lovely dinner and loved watching the guys banter and bullshit back and forth. Mom said this morning, "What you saw last night--that's how they've always been with each other." It's marvelous.

It was a great evening out, and I offered to snap a picture of all of them. Military friendships run deep, and for many, many years.

Barry, Vern, Clare, Mom, Dad

Even if Dad did once throw a firecracker in the bathroom while Barry was in there. Yes, Dad was the "little fart" in the group, according to Barry. This does not surprise me.

Oh, and according to Barry, I not only look like my dad, I have his mannerisms, as well. I'm both flattered and frightened by this!!

So it's been a good week. There are some hopeful developments starting to appear on the job horizon, so I'll be asking for crossed fingers, good juju, prayers, or whatever else you have for me in the coming month or two. I'm working hard to find something.

For now, however, the gym beckons. I have my weekly assignment to complete, and two nights of cider and wine to burn off!