Insaknity

I meant to write over the weekend. The weekend really got away from me.

I meant to write on Monday. Monday was also akin to a runaway train.

So here it is Tuesday and I’m having another crazy day. Albeit a little bit less crazy, so here goes:

Friday

Friday was FUN

(I did not knit one little stitch. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t knit a single stitch on any given day.)

Why didn’t I knit so much as a single stitch? Because Erin and I headed for Twin River in Rhode Island on Friday night.

We didn’t go for the dog racing or the slots. No siree, bob. What got me into a casino was Rick Springfield. I can thank Erin for telling me about it (thanks again, Erin!). I never even would have known he was there if it wasn’t for her. She may be wishing that she hadn’t told me since she’s not at all into Rick. She really had no idea who he was and only knew a single song - Jessie’s Girl. Despite all that, she was a marvelously fun companion and a tremendously good sport about the whole thing. Wine may have had a role in that. I know that good old Sam (Adams) had a part in my night.

However, she was totally into Fado. Actually, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it very much, too. Fado is an Irish pub-style restaurant at the casino. Yummy food, plenty of beer choices, and live Irish music. Lots of fun. =)

Enough about food, back to Rick. Even at 57 (Yes. 57. I know. I was shocked, too) he’s still really good. There was no opening act, just Rick. Which was perfectly fine with me. =) Even at 57 he’s still pretty hot. (Although I can’t get past a feeling of ickyness at that admission. He’s old enough to be my father.)

This next part was maybe more than a little bit disturbing for me. The sight of grown women, well into their 30’s and beyond, sitting expectantly in the front row with their faces turned upwards towards the stage, waiting. Waiting like children for Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Like drunken bachelorettes waiting for The Chippendales, all of them clutching dozens of roses to throw onto the stage. Thankfully, the roses were indeed the only things that they threw on stage. Had there been even a hint of panty-tossing or bra waving and I just might have fled. There was a lone incident of flashing though. You heard me right. Someone flashed him. I promise, it wasn’t me. As I told Erin, I outgrew flashing in the early 90’s, and while he’s still hot, he’s no Jon Bon Jovi, Nikki Sixx, or Paul Stanley.
(Oh, not that I would have EVER tossed my panties on stage or waved my bra around. Or flashed anyone. Oh no, not me. Never. I was a GOOD girl.)

Wow - that lightning bolt was close!
Saturday

It was a crazy, busy day at the shop. Ever since we opened our doors for business waaaaay back in January, this was our busiest day. I couldn’t have been happier. =) However, dealing with our busiest day ever while being ever-so-slightly hungover was not the optimal situation.

Saturday night? zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Sunday

All the insanely fun stuff. Cleaning, laundry, shopping. You know the drill.

Monday-Tuesday

Back to the drudgery of a working girl that’s counting the days till she can tell her boss(es) to fuck off.

I’ll leave you with a couple of pictures from Friday night:

Hmmmm…maybe the pictures would have come out a bit better if my eyes had been open all the way?

~Bethe