Fiddle dee dee

So, I laid out of work yesterday, feeling poorly (ahem). Calling in sick makes me feel both triumphant and guilty; I lay there trying to go back to sleep after making the phone call and my stomach twists up in a knot as I imagine that something dramatic will happen on my return, such as being quizzed on my exact symptoms or called into my boss's slightly larger cubicle for a Serious Conversation regarding my responsibilities in the world of benefit determination. Nothing ever happens, of course, pretty anti-climatic.

The weekend with my mom and niece went well; it was pretty low key. On Friday night, we went downtown a little bit early and rode the trolley all the way down South Main to the Arcade and then back up to the little Court Square park. My mom has memories of eating lunch in this park when she was a young hot secretary; it has a really gorgeous fountain that we admired before walking back down to the Orpheum and settling in for 226 minutes of Gone With The Wind. Now, I was excited because neither B nor my niece had seen the film before, and I thought it was a really nice experience for all of us to be seeing it together in the incredible Orpheum. Goddamn, I love that place.

GWTW did not disappoint; I could, of course, spell out a lengthy diatribe regarding the film's racism and sexism, however, everybody knows that shit and it would just be boring. I would describe myself as a movie snob, and my love for good film has only been heightened by my relationship with B, because he is extremely picky when it comes to movies, and fast to call bullshit on any combination of factors that make a movie a stinker. Anyway, watching GWTW reminds you why the phrase "golden age of Hollywood" was termed; it is so big & beautiful, and over the top with epic scenes of post-battle fields littered with the dead & dying, fiery explosions, and lavish parties rich with all those ridiculous hoop-skirts. So, needless to say, I enjoyed myself. Not so sure about the niece; she looked terrifically bored at times, although I'm sure 3.5 hours of Hannah Montana would have left her happy as a clam. (Vomit on that, by the way).

To make a long story short, the family evacuated our apartment on Saturday afternoon after some Indian food, visits to The House of Mews, Viet Hoa, and Flashback, a game of Scattergories, and many flash games shared on the internet between B & niece. I swear to God, I think she could have just played flash games the whole time and been happy. Also Webkinz. I don't know exactly what this is, but apparently children's satisfaction with virtual pets has not died. Do you remember Tamagotchi? Umm, that shit is stupid, obviously. Get with it children of today! Or at least the ones I know.

All right, also I must mention that we had a small gathering on Sunday night (hmm, could it be possible that this event might have lead to Monday's absence from work?). It was a nice time, and I'll tell you that it is a nice feeling that we are developing a circle of friends in Memphis. We officially failed to do so in our brief time in Nashville, and actually disassociated ourselves from the few friends we did have there, all of which leads to the conclusion that for now, we are supposed to be here and are succeeding at life. I love it when that happens! Now for the pictures. If you are in them, then you've probably already seen them, so I apologize in advance for the redundancy. The internet'll do that, you know.

We made Summerbrew, and somehow a half-full glass was left on the dresser in the bedroom, found toward the end of the night and consumed quickly by the industrious Kerry Crawford:

Next up, we've got Dave and Amy. Aren't they cute? I think that seersucker dress is *quite* becoming, myself.

I made some homemade pizzas, and Zach made incredible quesadillas. Incredidillas, if you will. Below we see evidence of food, and Zach, and Alpha. See, I'm not lying about any of this.

B and I were discussing how in both of the above pics, Zach Whitten appears as Worldly Observer. He can't really say as to why humans act as they do, but he'll gladly provide a prop to facilitate their ridiculous behavior. Also, he provides that mega-photogenic moustache.

So, I had a great time y'all, and I hope you did too. I apologize for going to bed kind of early and, in the process, possibly exposing my panties to anyone, but it's really no less revealing than a bathing suit, so I think you'll be okay. I think I need to develop some sort of espresso shooter to combat my alcohol-induced narcolepsy.

ETA that, of course, all photography is courtesy of my brilliant husband. Please, hire him, fuel our adventures.