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9:09 p.m. - 2011-06-10
My Big Fat Friday Night

What'cha doing this weekend?

Me?

I got nothin'. And I'm happy about it! Starting next weekend we've got something going on every weekend until mid-July. All good things. It's not like I've got a mammogram scheduled.

(Though I suppose it's about time for a boob squishing. I was hoping my insurance would pick up for an MRI over the traditional x-ray, but no such luck. Let's see�more effective screening, less invasive, less expensive, immediate results, and oh yeah, no RADIATION. Annnnnd my insurance says, "Zap and squish them jazongas, hon. We don't need no cost cutting, live saving innovations around here. We're in the health care business to make money not to help people stay well, ya know.")

{I am NOT bitching about having health insurance. Not, not, not. Only frustrated by the for-profit, obscene price gouging sliminess of the whole biz.}

Went goofy at the farmer's market today and bought more strawberries. My fridge was already jammed to the gunnels with strawberries. There's some blueberries and raspberries in there too. I had intended to make jam this afternoon, but the day got away from me. Tomorrow. Or perhaps I'll just top them and freeze 'em.

Also at the market I picked up a big ball of maitake mushroom. I discovered it last year at the same vendor's stall. I luuuurve it. It's got a wonderful woodsy flavor of its own, yet goes great in anything needing mushrooms. Except red sauce. It's a waste in red sauce. Mostly I just saut� it in butter. Sometimes with greens. Once when I only had a small piece I chopped it up and threw it in with plain old button mushrooms and saut�ed them together and damn if the maitake didn't spread its goodness around! Yummers. Stuff's supposed to be good for you too. But I refuse to make a virtue of something so delicious. Also saut�ing it in an entire stick of butter�go healthy eating! But again, yummers.

Anyhoodle, the nice empty weekend ahead. Which, once Mick got home, began to fill up. How does this happen? We're totally lame when it comes to living the high life. Namely, we don't. We don't go to parties, whale watch, have or go to barbeques, ski, golf, or gamble. We don't share many friends so socializing is always awkward. I mean, you can take me pretty much anywhere and I'll get on okay. It's a lot tougher on Mick who, besides being a misanthrope, is really, really shy. (A cause and effect dealie there. I try to be generous and say the shyness predates and caused the misanthropy. *snerk*)

He is getting less shy, especially around my friends. His pantheon of goddesses. Hasn't met one yet who he thinks is less than amazing and wonderful. Except Mo. But she's on my permanent shit list anyhow. No big. But the rest? Mick can't get over how diverse my pals are, yet they're all great. After our company went home on Easter Mick was musing about this and tumbled onto what makes my friends so fab, they're all smart. They are indeed. Wicked smart. Smarter than me. I enjoy being the fluffy brained one in this gang. I'm no slouch in the brains department, so to be the knucklehead amongst my buds means they all rock the big, big smarts. And they're all funny. Can't see the point of hanging out with stiffs. Told my guy he'd been running with the wrong crowd all those years and wasted his life on dopes.

You know how most women go through a bad boy stage? I think a lot of guys go through a dim bulb stage. I can see how it'd be fun for a while. You always get to be right. Dippy chicks can talk a lot but they never really say anything so basically they function as white noise machines with breasts. And maybe�maybe they have way more sex than smarter people do, you know, because they can't think of anything else to do. It's possible. However, even volcanic nookie in copious amounts gets old. (Okay, it takes a long time.) And then what? Bored to snores. So like how most women finally extricate themselves from the gleamy, self-esteem destroying evil allure of bad boys. (And my, didn't it take me fricken forever to get rid of my shithead? Um, who's smart?) Most guys get over their thing with dimwits. This is why Mick crushes on my friends. Finally gets it. The seductive power of brains and wit.

Wandered off topic. Oh, like this is new? C'mon.

The formerly empty weekend. Shopping has been scheduled. Food, sundries. And dig this, a pair of mandals for Mick. Not Jesus shoes like the ex wears with his hairy ugly man-toes hanging out. A closed-toe pair. More like well-ventilated shoes than sandals. Tried to make a link to the JC Penney webpage to show you, but it's being uncooperative. Tomorrow we'll tootle off to Penney's and buy Mick's new mandals for $4.99 + tax!!! How? The sandals are on sale for $39.99. Mick found a $10 coupon and I have a $25 gift card from MIL. I know, it was a gift to me, but I was just going to get some Sephora junk with it. Nothing urgent or necessary. The lure of wrangling such a bargain is irresistible. I love a good buy.

And I should say good-bye here. Otherwise I might spend the weekend talking to you guys.


5,000 word blog entries are nobody's friend. ~LA

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