Sunday, July 17, 2005


White trash weekend from hell!

OMFG!!! Someone just kill me now and put me out of my misery. Apart from being exhausted, there was an overabundance of negative fun in my weekend. When I think about it, it really pisses me off cause, I never-ever have a Saturday off and now having one off, wasting it with a family wedding, a second wedding mind you, I get a little wound up.

So...I woke on Friday morning in time to shower and primp my fine ass for work. However, the pain in my right food decided to show up and work some fucking overtime. There was a great deal of swearing and praying under my breath so I could get through the day without getting sent home. Which, by the way, I managed to do. When three o'clock rolled around, I walk off the unit, get ready to complete some last minute errands before the rehearsal dinner, and then have my boss yell at me cause I don't have time to go out to eat with him.

Some people would call this career suicide, but I really could give a shit. I'm about as far along in my job as I'm gonna get. Whether or not I hang with the boss is of no concern to me. So, I went to the cleaners to pick up my suit, to the bank to get my cash and back to the fortress of solitude to enjoy some quiet time before I had to drive out into the sticks in some serious heat & humidity. It was a protestant church and for a lapsed catholic like myself, it was a refreshing change from the normal Jane Fonda: sit, kneel, stand and be miserable cause you are all bad people roman catholic routine.

The rehearsal went pretty smooth, long and hot but smooth. I read the response which was about as weird as it could get. Something about Jesus saying, "love is like a cymbal so, bang a gong and let's get it on" or something to that effect. We left the church and drove back into civilization, where the rehearsal dinner was being held. I had never been to Pat Orlando's and to be honest, the food was excellent. I had chicken sorento and it was a big as my head and I have a floor-model sized head. I was seated with friends of my Aunt & Uncle, who come in from Belgium ever couple of years and so, during dinner had a real sizzler of a conversation about the current state of professional cycling. I learned at age 14 in Belgium, you can enter the amateur cycling circuit and be trained by the best in the world.

Luc, could not understand how some guy from the United States, Wisconsin even, could be a world champion several times over, when cycling is not even really considered much of a sport here. After that, we spoke about the war, the price of gasoline and what my future plans entailed. I let them in on my masterplan to go to grad school for journalism and to move from RI and never look back. They seemed to think it was a good idea. Of course there was family drama, and not the good kind. There was hatred of epic proportions between my cousin and her brother's wife. It was not good. It was hate on the KKK scale and all you can really do at that point is to get out of the way and hope to avoid the collateral damage.

Afterward, I was invited to my aunt & uncle's to swim in the pool and as much as I wanted to, I needed to be away from the madness. So I called the "W" and we went for iced coffee. "W" and I shot the breeze for awhile and then I took him home cause he had to be up early to go to the mechanic, due to his transmission exploding. Upon getting home, I surfed on the interweb way to long, and ended up going to bed and being serenaded to sleep by the birds....I fucking hate that.

I woke up later than I wanted to and sort of had to hurry to be ready on time. It was hotter than two fat people fucking in a sauna outside and in the church. I could have been accused of being a turkey, basting in my own juices. Gratefully, I had a kerchief to keep the rivulets of perspiration at bay. Service went well and there was enough time for me to go home and have some without pants time to cool off. I went to the reception in a shirt and pants and was a bit over dressed. There were motherfuckers there in shorts and Hawaiian shirts. So the reception got started very late and everyone was starving. I went to the bar to pick up sodas for myself and mom and pop, ( I was not drinking on purpose, cause I was so mad.) Some asshole comes up next to me and asks for a shot of tequila. The bartender tells him they don't serve shots.

So he asks for a glass of tequila. I turn around and tell him it's not really a sipping drink, but he thinks I'm joking. The rest of the night went downhill from there and at 10:30 I was the poster child for despair. Around 11PM having to be in work in 8 hours, I decided to call it a night, came home and fell asleep like it was my job.

This morning came way to soon and though work went off without a hitch, it still galled me that I had to be there. Yeah, I felt a lot like this guy.

I hope you had a better weekend than I did.

I hope you all are well.




Anonymous said...

I was in a wedding this weekend, and I, too had a reading from the Book of Robert Palmer.

JackassJimmy said...

Oddly enough, that's better than a Reading from the Book of Robert Jordan. You'd still be there.

Cheers anonymous!

n.v. said...

It was hotter than two fat people fucking in a sauna

So funny.

JJ, how old are you?