another recap of another exhausting weekend
Monday, Jun. 20, 2005, 7:12 PM

Well, I picked up W and T Friday night and we went to dinner at their choice. The Feeding Frenzy. Ugh.

I was hoping for some place where I could just get a side salad to tide me over till my usual midnight supper with Spouse. Nope--we had to go to a place where my salad and iced tea would run me twelve bucks. I ate more than I would have otherwise, but I still didn't do badly. Part of it was my admirable restraint from overeating, but part of it, I have to confess, was the combination of the disgusting pig clientele and the fatty, cooked-to-death muck they serve. I was lucky to get down my salad and cottage cheese and fruit.

When you pay in this place, they give you a salad plate at the register. It is inferred that you would go get your salad, and when you get back to the table, your dinner plates have been placed there by your server. I went left with my salad plate toward the tossed salad fixings, fresh fruit, and dressings. W and T, however, took their salad plates went right. Right to the meatloaf and pot roast and mashed potatoes and fried chicken and broccoli (ruined by cheese sauce), that is.

Over which, they then had the ability to say, with straight faces, that they just could not figure out how come I was able to lose weight and they were not. And then T went for a huge slab of gooey cake.

Honestly. I love my friends, and I understand all too well about obesity, and food issues. And I'm not some diet Nazi, proselytizing fanatic who hectors her friends about their habits. But get real! How deep in denial do you have to be--to talk about how healthy you eat, and all the right choices you make, and cry about how you just can't lose weight--over a heaping plate at an all-you-can-eat buffet?

The curtain rose on time, after a short speech by the Drama Director.

And OH. MY. GOD. The wonder...

We are blessed with some very talented, committed, and amazing kids in this town. Their "Dress Rehearsal" was more professionally staged, performed, and lit than many semi-pro and pro performances I've seen. And Sweeney Todd is a hugely difficult and complex piece for any company to stage. Those kids were stunning, and absolutely earned their right to perform on the main stage at the convention.

Needless to say, W, T and I were in Sondheimian Heaven, and we all did our usual ultra-thorough critiques during intermission and on the way home.

Of course, we all found it exhausting, as we had mouthed every bit of the dialogue and lyrics, as well as conducted and gestured in our seats. We've watched Sweeney so many times, we're almost like Rocky Horror Geeks with it.

But we are old Rocky Horror geeks, so that shouldn't surprise anyone who knows us at all.

Which I shrugged off and went to get dinner started for Spouse. Having a limited amount of time, I did shake-n-bake chops, twice-bakes, and steamed some green beans. Simple, ample, and he was happy. I was happy, too--once I finally got to hit the mattress about one in the morning.

But I had to cut it short and get home, in order to get ready for Spouse's company picnic. I really didn't want to go, and this sort of thing is a bone of contention between us. But I did end up at a park near Milwaukee, sitting by myself and being snubbed by the typical assholian Milwaukee folk. Every single person who was friendly and spoke to me was from somewhere else. It felt like high school again. Christ--some things never change, here in the Southeast corner of Hell.

Actually, it is only the Southeast corner that IS hell. The folks up north and out west are lovely (Green Bay, Eau Claire, Madison, LaCrosse, Prairie Du Chien, etc.), and much of the countryside is gorgeous. It's just down here that Wisconsin is awful.

Anyway, the food was gross, I was bored, it was cold, so I sat in the sun and burned my face, neck and arms, and in general I thought it sucked.

It also ate up most of a day, and I really didn't feel I could spare it.

I was fried and whipped when we got home, so Spouse ordered chicken delivered and I went kind of coasted in a fog till about 9:30, when I gave up and went to bed. He had a fire in the firepit, but I was too tired to enjoy it.

And then when we got there, I had yet another of the accidents that occur when I attempt to enter or exit the GP. This time I whanged my nose and LEFT eyebrow, bent the nosepiece on my glasses, and sent them flying off my face. Oh, fuckety fuck fuck.

The CottonPicker is a country restaurant that doesn't look like anything too special, but it was founded by a former chef from Antoine's in New Orleans, and the food is fabulous. I had the Eggs Florentine, which was perfect. I also had two glasses of champagne, and a huge Sea Breeze that was mostly vodka, so I got kind of squiffy. Spouse had steak and eggs, and we shared a piece of the most fabulous, rich-yet-light, "fuck you Emeril" banana cream pie I've ever experienced. Coffee, cocktails, champagne, two brunch entrees, and a dessert, all top-drawer. 42 bucks. What a freaking bargain.

The experience was enhanced by our reminiscences of brunching there back in our dating days. At that time, it was the fanciest and best restaurant he could think of to take me to. My baby�s come a long way since then!

After brunch, we went to the Burlington Wal-Mart, which has a garden center about four times bigger than any other Wal-Mart I�ve ever seen. I bought three large pots, dirt, and many plants so I could come home and do my backyard planters I�ve been wanting.

We headed toward home, with a stop at Steins, for some ultra-special rose spray that Spouse swears by for his precious babies. I guess this stuff has something called neem oil that rocks for protecting roses from bugs, fungus, and mites. Anyway, I took advantage of the stop to get some Dusty Millers and marigolds, so I could do yet more planting.

When we got home, I did my pots (whew! hot and tiring!) while he washed his motorcycle, and then I did my housework while he rode his motorcycle. Then I got dinner and did more housework while he sat on his ass. And after dinner, I did the dishes while he sat on his ass. Is anyone sensing a pattern here?

Even he noticed the one-sided work ethic, I think, because after Family Guy, he went outside and hosed off the air conditioner, and then washed and filled the birdbath, and shot the yard with Bug-Free.

I love my new planters. They are square-ish, with fluted sides, and we got two green and one taupe. I planted petunias, Spikes, and Dustys in them--red petunias in the green planters and purplish petunias in the taupe. I also took the marigolds I bought and planted my other circular planter, which I put at the base of the clothesline pole.

Spouse prefers this way to my putting in beds, because he can just pick these up and move them when he wants to mow. I�m just glad that after eleven years, I finally have some flowers growing along that long stretch of my neighbor�s stockade fence. And a few more splashes of color in my backyard.

Oh. And I managed to take a really good crack to the back of my head, while putting something away in the garage. Just to put a finish on this bloody weekend.