I would be remiss if I did not mention some of the Other Things that happened over the weekend.
First, let me explain the crab hat. Many years ago, my friends Diana & Scott gave me a baseball cap with a red-orange crab embroidered on it. It refers to my astrological sign, Cancer, and also serves as an early warning system if I happen to be in a crabby mood.
The crab hat would have been apt a couple of times this weekend. On the drive down to Lake Elsinore, for example. I asked Mike to drive so I could relax. Instead, I stayed mostly awake to help navigate the 4 different freeways it took to get there and to criticize his driving. You can imagine how well that went over.
Mike asked whether it would stress me out more to have him drive my car than it would if I did the driving myself. Well, yes. But I was pooped from getting a touch too much sun on Saturday and from my woozy spell earlier that day in Target.
Plus, after having a few "commuter" relationships in LA/OC and an alcoholic boyfriend whom I ALWAYS had to drive around, sometimes I want to NOT DRIVE. The rest of the time, I would rather drive so I can be in control of my circumstances.
So I ragged on Mike's driving and he kept explaining why I shouldn't feel worried. And even though I complained, I still wanted him to drive home (even after his mission buddy asked him if he was still driving the way he did in Argentina, which I interpreted as driving crazy. Like someone would be notorious for good driving?). We talked through it, translating what I said/what he heard and did a round of apologizing.
The crab hat also would have been appropriate for the Tuesday afternoon marathon on pre-wedding finances. After some agitation, two Advil and some incoherent mumbling, that all sorted out fine, too.
Tuesday night we saw The Breakup. The fight scenes/dialogue covered different subjects, but were strangely reminiscent of the driving discussions we'd just had. The film was more like a case study than a romantic comedy overall.
Maybe we would have been better off seeing Nacho Libre. I like campy fun, odd characters, and oblique references to Mormons as much as the next gal, but I wasn't rushing to see another Jared Hess flick. Napoleon Dynamite just didn't do it for me.
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6 comments:
Did you get sleep tourettes along with your crabbiness?
Everytime we go to the Outer Banks, I want to get you the t-shirt that says, "I got my crabs at Dirty Dick's"* but I just can't bring myself to do it. It's just too gross.
Here's hoping you have crab-free days between now and the 22nd!
* (Dirty Dick's being one of the local crab shacks down there, fyi/btw.)
Napoleon Dynamite didn't do it for me, either, and I can't quite bring myself to sit throw a Jared Hess movie in the theater, where I can't hit fast-forward.
I think the crab hat is very cool, btw.
No accompanying sleep Tourette's. Just the crab.
The Dirty Dick's T-shirt sounds like a bit much. (This coming from a woman with T-shirts from Good Vibrations, Madame's Organ and Hooker, Oklahoma).
A reviewer from LA Weekly described Nacho Libre and its creator, Jared Hess, as mean-spirited. He sensed a real nasty streak to Hess's work; he thought Hess was laughing AT and not with his characters. Although intriguing, I'm not rushing to check out this hypothesis.
Ah, the crab hat. :-) I'm glad you still find uses for it, My Wee Tartlet Crabby-when-foodless Friend.
XO
Love you, Swizzies.
ox ME
Precisely. It's just too crude for even the crudest of company. And since you're the epitome of classy, a t-shirt from said unmentionable-for-a-second-time establishment would be beyond totally inappropriate.
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