Dinner with Friends and Family

Beer in a Scarf

It has been one interesting week. I started off by delivering a workshop on writing assessment questions. Two days were devoted to learning the new LMS we’re implementing at work. iTunes ate my library, including all the apps on my iPhone when I synced to the rebuilt library. That meant I couldn’t get to my work email on the phone for a couple of day.

While all that was going on, I still had to keep up with doing most of my assessment analysis. I don’t have a good client database built for this, so I use Microsoft Excel, which is a real pain. This morning, XL (I like to call Excel XL because its files are always extra large.) quit opening. It just crashes on load. Uninstalling and reinstalling Office didn’t help, and the problem exists only with XL. I spent most of the day trying unsuccessfully to troubleshot this issue.

You can see I was mighty happy to see the end of the week arrive. I invited two of my work buddies, who were visiting from California, to dinner at Mesa Rosa with the family. Suna and I had a really nice time chatting and exchanging stories.

RB and CR both ordered Negro Modelo, which came dressed in these little scarves. Unfortunately, I failed to notice the side of the beer they wanted me to take a picture of was facing away from me. The front of the scarf, which you can’t see in the photo, is tied in a cute little scarfy knot.

Unfortunately, RB had to catch a 06:30 flight home, so we couldn’t hang too long. But we did have enough time to put the work week fully behind me. I hope we can do more next time either of them visits Austin or I’m in California.

All My Rowdy Friends Have Settled Down—Mostly

Back in 1989, Sam always knew that Flatch was good for a bite of breakfast.

And the hang overs hurt more then they used to

And corn bread and ice tea took the place of pills and ninety-proof

—Hank Williams Jr.

Captain Flatulence, his wife, and their children came to visit us for the weekend. I have only had lunch with the captain once since X2 and I split. We used to be roommates, friends, and drinking buddies. Somehow, it is easy to slip into those old behaviors. Our abilities to consume beer in mass quantities were once on a similar level. Not so any more.

While I didn’t awaken this morning “with no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt,” (Can you tell that this friendship dates back to when PC stood for Progressive Country? Before personal computers or politically correct!) I was in no condition to get out of bed without my stomach churning and my eyeballs demanding shelter from the light storm. That after only a six pack—a quantity of Black and Tan deliciousness that we would have once called a light lunch.

So, we caught up on old times over brews after the rest of the crowd went to bed. The captain got up at his “normal” time of around 05:30, while I remained glued to the sheets until around 09:00. I was not fit company when I did manage to drag myself downstairs. We finally managed to go to the donut shop for breakfast, and they headed home around noonish, by which time I was starting to feel almost human.

Still I am grateful this week for old friends who remind me why I don’t do the things I did when I was younger. I am grateful for the sharing of families and the ability to talk politics and religion (or lack thereof) without having to self-censor or worry about repercussions. I have so much to be grateful for. Thanks for reminding me, Matt. Thanks for putting up with me, Suna.