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It's one of those Mondays when I have brought too much lunch, but don't want to waste any food. I've been reading and writing a great deal today--nothing overly impressive, emails, several posts by other blog personalities, etc., and additionally have managed to get a good deal of work-related tasks accomplished. I'm nearing that hazy fog of wanting an afternoon nap so I figured what better to do than keep my head upright by writing more. The weekend was mostly nice; Friday I pounced on Craig the moment he entered the door and slid his tired body to the couch: "Craig, can we invite AB and MB to dinner here tonight??" His head rolled to the side in a sort of wary, "I just got home after one whole month of traveling every weekend and now this?" fashion, but he was accomodating and permitted me to have our friends to Smyrna. AB had left a voicemail wondering if Craig and I would like to go out to dinner in Smyrna, but seeing as we love hosting things (I love hosting things) and it would be more cost efficient on Craig's and my weakened bank books (still sweating from a whole month of traveling) to have them over, we had them over. AB got a new do, which is adorable (AB, I am not just saying that!) and she brought us a book she found while on business in Cali of Napoleon Dynamite quotes! Gosh, gosh, gosh! I pointed out that it would only be a matter of minutes and Craig would have that thing open reciting his favorites. That happened, yes, but not in full force until Saturday morning. Anyway, back to Friday...before the B's arrived, I went to our nearby Publix grocery and buzzed through to get the essentials for pesto stuffed porkchops. Craig calls them "our famous". We've made them for the R's before, as well as for TW and A in North Carolina, although that particular night they were grilled, which didn't yield as smart of results. But I digress. Walking through the grocery, my phone rang, and it was MP, inviting us over to grill & drink! I said, M, we just invited the B's over for dinner ten minutes ago! And he said, Damn, I should have called fifteen ago! But I assured him I would let Craig know of the invite, and when I got home and told Craig, his face lit up like Christmas and he was like, We're GOING! Craig and MP have special soft spots for each other, after meeting at a party Craig and I threw months back. The B's arrived, we ate a fairly decent version of "our famous" chops, though MB's tastes do not embrace the pesto, feta and pine nut filling in the chops so we allowed him BBQ'ed chops instead...and we drank some wine, some beer, then headed out to find MP's Post property somewhere in the neighborhood of Windy Hill Parkway. Not far from mine and Craig's in Smyrna. Vinings, I tell people. I live in Vinings. How lovely that sounds over Smyrna. Anyway, we drank a lot once we found MP's apartment, and we met his fiance, and her friends, and his roommate. AB and I give MP rather glowing reviews when people ask. He's a really fun time.*Saturday, after I made red pepper, mushroom, ham & cheese omelets, began all-the-rest-of-weekend: football, baseball playoffs, football, college football, NFL football, baseball playoffs, and I think once Craig switched to golf to see if Tiger Woods was winning. Craig has discovered "split screen" on our tv and it’s like having two 25"ers side by side, it’s pretty hilarious. Or you can make one 32" and the other 18"…and so on. Trust me, that was what we did nearly the whole weekend…with the exception, of course, of Friday’s adventures. Tonight we’re going to see Liz Phair in Buckhead—you can’t get much cooler than having a boyfriend who will go to estrogen fueled concerts with you, so I consider myself lucky. But he likes Liz Phair, too…she’s playing at this dusty little theater called the Roxy, an Atlanta venue we've not yet been to, right in the throbbing heart of Buckhead.*I started a new project yesterday on the computer: the beginnings of recollecting my twenties beginning in Michigan and moving forward. I kept journals nearly that entire time, starting with my move into my swinging single apartment in Ypsilanti, all the way through the dreadful years I spent without Craig while he lived on the East Coast, but somewhere in there I lost my ambition, I believe around the time I moved to St. Louis. That's where the books trail off, anyway. So I started this project yesterday with vague albeit noble intentions, and we'll see how far along I make it. I am not referencing the old journals unless need be; I want to see how impressionistic my memory can paint those years before comparing new writing to old. If dates need to be checked, perhaps I will permit myself that much. This is an effort to leisurely rummage through the mental treasure chest of stories, to see if any hold merit this much later. Even just launching the project last night flooded me with such a rush of how lucky I've been, how many places I've lived, how many people I've loved and met. I'm also making a valiant effort not to ramble, something I have yet to attempt in this particular sphere...