The end to the summer and of a REALLY long holiday weekend was composed of “another one bites the dust,” and “I can’t believe I’m at the bar on a Sunday night when I’m 30-years-old,” and “I can (not) afford two more pairs of pants… in my closet,” and “What do you MEAN you’re out of Mexican Pizzas??” and “Please, no Worchestshire on my steak!”
Yes, a wedding, followed by a night out at Bar Flyy, add a drive-thru to the Mexican Border, and cooking out with Dad. My friend’s wedding was absolutely beautiful. More Indian food — and I was so daring to try almost everything. Favorite was Mutta Paneer and of course, the wedding cake (from Corbo’s). My C-bus pal and I decided having already sweat out to enough Punjabi music and the like, we needed more dance time. Downtown. Again. I’m actually happy to say I won’t be downtown again for a while with all the mini-travels I intend to take over the next month-or-so. If I haven’t repeated myself, I’m over it. I need a new environment. I fully expected Bar Flyy to be more crowded on Sunday night. I always remembered the I-got-Monday-off crowd of holidays past. Eh. The crowd sucked. And they never have enough bartenders. I had maybe one drink, and next thing I knew we were in line for food (again) at the Toxic Juncture, fka Taco Bell, where they were OUT of Mexican Pizzas. I decide to pick ONE DAY to end my summer with some shitty food and they’re OUT. Surprisingly, I stayed sober for majority of the weekend — including at the wedding. Which may have accounted for my totally awesome dance moves in my 4-inch dress heels.
Friend left early Monday. Replaced with my sister. Sis and I had breakfast/lunch at the Diner on Clifton, gossiped over Iced Lattes at Barnes n Nobles at Crocker Park (where I scored spent money I shouldn’t have on some new dress/work pants at H&M), stocked up on toilettries a’la Target, then drove out to Dad’s for a good old-fashioned steak dinner.
People, my fellow allergy sufferers (me: fish and shellfish), READ THE LABELS on your sauces and BBQ’S. [End of service announcement]. We even got my dad to take us to the grocery store for S’Mores ingredients and completely gave into sugar-fixations.
Then I came home and did “homework” — not assigned — so I could feel prepared for my week of classes. Yes, summer is over. Thank gawd. Time to get on with “real life.” You know, like, more weddings and vacation planning and football games and school projects and… dammit, what do I do with these sunflowers? Do I plant them? Keep trimming the stems? Can you even dry sunflowers?
…and I think I just became boring. I’m going to miss you flip-flop season.
