Wizards, Wine, and Waldo.

WANT TO HEAR SOMETHING FUNNY?!

So... I have been having brief periods of reminiscence, but now I have an actual life-in-the-Wild-West-update.

I told you on Sunday I was headed off to have an excellent home-made dinner with a friend and the woman she rents from right? Right. Well, first off: IT WAS EXCELLENT. Yum. I even was sent home with leftovers, but that is beside the point (meaning, I'll get to that part soon enough). So I have been eating turkey and cranberry sauce for two days now. Anywho, here is how dinner went:

I had been in the grad room doing reports/paperwork/heavensknowswhat and was really tired and not pretty looking. I stopped at a liquor store near my apartment (and my friend's house) to get some wine. I picked a lovely bottle (this is an overexaggeration) and headed over. I walk in and the woman--who is truly lovely--gave me a huge hug and said she was "so glad that [I] could make it." I immediately felt right at home. Dinner wasn't ready yet, so we jumped into one of the bottles of wine. After watching some Wizard of Oz and being introduced to port wine--a cheese apparently--we sat down at the table to eat. We talked about hockey (which her family played), Canada (where her family was from), fishing (which her family loved), and growing up. Dinner was DELICIOUS. Before we ate dessert, we took a break and watched some more TV. We all kept laughing about the AMA's that were on and the performers that were winning and such. Her son made some funny comments and we all drank wine and laughed (OH! I forgot to mention she had an attractive son? Maybe you'll want to keep that in mind.). Throughout the evening the woman kept telling me how wonderful it would be if I could join them in Montana for Thanksgiving (witwas incredibly sweet of her to invite me, and it would have been fun to go to).

So I, my friend, and the woman's son are all sitting at the table talking and joking around. There is a new kitty in the house, and it was playing in a paper bag; this was amusing to my friend. For anyone who knows me, you know I don't like cats. For some reason though, I became comfortable with this one. So my friend is cracking up and telling me I HAVE to get up and look around the corner at this cat. So I do. It stops moving. When I go back to sit down I feel something briefly caress my hand. Not long enough to be something sturdy, but not light enough to be air. I look, and in slow motion I see the red wine I was drinking careen across the table. Onto the woman's car papers, car manual, and her son's phone. The papers will forever be tainted with the purple stain of holiday joviality. I run to the kitchen to grab paper towels and quickly clean it up. Her son helped. That was picked up and it seemed as if there was no love lost. Commence end of the evening. Please keep in mind that I was NOT drunk... or even buzzed for that matter. I was being me, which apparently just necessitates frivolous and unnecessary occurrences.

We eat some awesome pumpkin pie (now, I don't normally like pumpkin pie, BUT THIS WAS SO GOOD. It had coconut in it so it wasn't the normal texture that I don't care for). My friend and I were getting ready to leave and started to walk down the stairs. I had pie and leftovers in hand. I turn to thank the woman hosting the dinner and true to form WOOSH. Down I went. BUMP BUMP BUMP down the stairs. Now, the house is not big, and I hit a broom, so it made an almighty clatter... that everyone in the house could definitely hear. The woman--in her adorable high pitched motherly voice--said, "Oh, my goodness, dear! Are you alright!" To which I popped back up (pie and leftovers in-tact and in-hand, mind you) and said, "Yep! I'm good. Just clumsy!" These people probably think I'm a drunk or something. C'est la vie. The best part of the evening, despite my graceful Beyonce style wipeout, was my friend's comment when we finally got down to her apartment. I was embarassed. She looked me dead in the eyes and said, "Well, I mean, you are wearing fluffy Waldo socks... so you kinda had it coming." With that, I learned my lesson. DO NOT wear fluffy white and red (or any color, for that matter) striped shea butter microfleece Bath and Body Works socks to occasions where you may be trying to make an impression or meet cute strangers. Lesson learned.

Well, Thanksgiving. I am not going to Montana. My cousin and I talked and he has hockey games on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. I am going down there on Wednesday for the game and will come back if I need for reports/paperwork/and such. By down there I mean Colorado (Fort Collins/Denver area). Who would have thought a year ago that I would be spending my Thanksgiving in the Wild West, let alone with a close family member. Cool stuff, eh? I'm excited. For hockey, for cousin time, for everything. 3 more weeks until I'm home. :)

Love y'all. I'll try and keep this more updated.

OH PS) If you are in the area,and are in need of automotive care, go to Plains Tires. Seriously. They are incredibly nice and only charged me $20 for a new spare tire (with good treads), a change of rims, and an all around tire check. Now THAT is the out-West hospitality I've grown used to :).