Thanks to NBC Sports for the photo. Also: That is not my husband. Things that are happening because my husband is at a race at Watkins Glen:
I rolled out of bed, ran a brush through my hair, and had a friend over for breakfast. I made omelettes. We drank high test coffee and talked about girl stuff, music, and world affairs. All before I'd put on street clothes, makeup, or a bra. Friends you don't have to vacuum for are AWESOME.
I've watched two different documentaries: this one and this one. I highly recommend them both. You'll need tissues.
I've left the air conditioner off and the windows open.
I've made cheese quesadillas an honorary food group.
I did laundry, but I haven't put it away. I may not put it away today, either. We'll see.
There is wine. Its cheap, cold, and in a jug. There is a high probability of italian food later, and it will very likely be consumed with a glass of the aforementioned cheap cold wine. Probably while watching another documentary.
We've had this text exchange:
Him: Hello...here
Me: Having fun?
Him: So far so good hot
Him: (Later) Pretty awesome
Me: Yeah? Can you see well where you are?
Him: (empty message-- itchy send finger, I guess)
Him: Yeah baby.
Me: Is it loud?
Him: Oh yeah.
So I gather from this that NASCAR is either so mind-numbingly awesome it simply buggers the imagination and one's ability to articulate its awesomeness via text message, OR its so loud and disorienting that it has reduced my husband's vocabulary to that of someone receiving a lap dance.
Either way, I'm not feeling sad or left behind.
I think I'll bake some pretzels.
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13 comments:
I vote for chocolate-chip cookies.
Hmmmm. Do I have chips?
Ooooh. I DO.
Ah man, the husbands in a mood today. Come over with your cheap wine, help me lock him in the garage and I'll watch anything you want on TV.
Crap. I would have LOVED to watch both of those documentaries--why didn't you call me???!
Oh yeah, you don't really know me. Sigh. Well, I would have enjoyed them anyway. And I know like every song in A Chorus Line.
glad you had a great time. :)
It does leave you with the inability to articulate. It is loud. The whole ground shakes when they come by and there are too many rednecks to even imagine.
Aw, it sounds like you're having some fun solo time. It's funny the things we do differently when our spouses are away. When Dave went on a baseball trip to Atlanta a few years ago, I had a friend over and we watched movies until midnight. We also ordered takeout pizza AND cheeseburgers and then brought in a cake we'd gotten earlier at the store, plunked it down on the coffee table, sat on the floor and attacked it with plastic forks.
Ah . . . good times. Dave? Planning anymore trips?
Sue--Anytime you need someone locked in a garage and I have the car, I'll be happy to help.
Lin--I've been singing 'Dance Ten Looks Three' ever since I saw that. I discovered today that my voice echoes prettily in the ambulance garage. And that the door opens kind of quietly. I envision a highly inappropriate scenario someday wherein I sing that somewhere in karaoke. Perhaps at BlogHer 2014. Maybe by then I'll be able to afford to go.
Lisa- I think we were in the middle of too many rednecks to imagine before you headed for the Glen.
JD-- My friend is planning an over 40 sluumber party. I can't wait.
Now you've got me kind of wishing my husband would go to a race. Or somewhere. Anywhere. lol
Did you end up making cookies or pretzels? Or cookie-covered pretzels? Yum...
I reflected carefully on the insanity of putting my oven on (the pretzels require a preheat of 450) and baked bread in the bread machine instead. Then I made a panini for dinner. Which is Italian for 'grilled cheese sandwich in the George Foreman grill'.
I'm thinking we can drag JD along and the 3 of us can do a very dramatic/weepy version of "At the Ballet". That's a personal fav of mine.
That would be AWESOME.
I love that, friends you don't have to vacuum for! it is so true. and you knew how to spell vacuum. glad I found you. doreenmccabe.blogspot.com
I think my last comment got eaten. Like I want to eat everything you mention here.
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