Left work on Wednesday.
Made Cranberry Sauce.
Watched Donnie make Turkey and Cobbler. He's a pro.
Thursday.
Drove to RI.
Found an extremely awkward situation in my mother's living room.
Situation quickly became even more uncomfortable with the arrival of my mom's husband's (NOT my "step father") parents. My mom's husband is a year older than I am. He used to live across the street. His parents have never met my maternal grandparents.
There was also a couple who were friends of the family, but they had recently broken up and were in the room together.
It was.....the food was good.
Drove home. Tired.
Friday.
We slept in a bit.
Fed Kitties.
Sort of laid about the house for an hour or two.
Went shopping.
It was crazy, but sort of just "weekend" crazy. Not "black friday" crazy.
Let me point out that "black friday" is not black because of how "crazy" it is. It is "black" as in the phrase "in the black" or having made a lot of money/profit, although it originally comes from a reference to the stock crash of "Black Tuesday" because of the heavy foot/vehicle traffic. I don't have the patience to explain this just now. It's like a riot. Not riot ha-ha, but riot ohmygodgetoutofthewaythey'restampeding.
We got gifts for my brother, our niece and picked up a few serious sale DVDs.
Saturday.
On Saturday, I got up very, very early (haha -- eight am. I have to be at work by then on Monday!) and drove to Foxboro, my hometown, Don's hometown, and the high-school home town of my best friend, Kristin. We stopped a Bickford's for breakfast out of desperation; good breakfast places are sort of few and far between in that area. We were greeted by a curmudgeonly woman who, when I pulled on the door on the right to make it easier to get through, uttered an excited "No!" However, our food was ok.
I drove there to collect Kristin, which I did. We drove into Boston and got lost trying to find the Institute of Contemporary Art, although we did eventually find it.
The ICA was pretty amazing in that most of the exhibits were emotionally unsettling, although a few were intentionally funny.
The exhibit that bothered me most was "Momentum 9: Kader Attia." M9KA was an installation of a dark room with walls of plywood. In the room were beds made of what looked like boxes or more plywood, with foam mattresses. The mattresses, in turn, had had foam ripped out of them in the shape of bodies.
We left the museum after we saw everything, and began to drive to Salem. We stopped at a Wendy's on the way home.
Wendy's.
The Wendy's Restaurant was clean, and there appeared to be only a short wait. However, we ended up waiting for about fifteen minutes. Our food came; however, my burger was missing cheese. The woman behind the counter grabbed a slice, put it in a container, and handed it to me.
Ok. Whatever.
Then, another customer, a male who looked to be in his late teens, went up to the counter and complained because he had found a piece of fur in his sandwich. Ew. Of course, they should take care of that, no problem. It's unfortunate, but that kind of thing will happen from time to time.
"I'm not even kidding, look. There's this long piece of hair or fur or something in my sandwich."
He pulls out a long piece of white fur-like hair; it looks like it came from a dog.
"No sir. You put that in there."
Right, of course they'll replace....wha? What?
"No -- I'm serious. This doesn't belong in my food. This is ridiculous."
And on and on, the workers continued to accuse him of putting the fur in his own food.
Now, regardless of whether or not they have a history with this guy, the fact is they have other customers, including me, standing around watching this altercation. Does this mean that if I have a complaint about my food, I'm going to be responsible? Does this mean that they have no customer service skills?
I didn't intervene, even though I desperately wanted to. Holy crap.
Kristin and I sat down with our food. Our sandwiches tasted four hours old. Ick. We ate only as much as necessary (which in this case was very little and mostly composed of soda. Nutritious) and left. Quickly.
We made it to my house and chilled out for a bit, and watched a terrible movie called "Murder Party." However, "MP" is so bad, it's good. And parts of it are endearing. So if you can deal with pretty bad acting and some gore, and have some patience towards stupidity, you're probably good to giggle to a viewing of "Murder Party." The film is about a group of art students who are interpreting a murder of an unwilling victim through art for a grant.
Here's my favorite gem of dialogue from this film:
"Why did you take our art?"
"Well, I was going to kill all of you, and then sell it, because art is only worth money after you're dead."
"So you like our art?"
Ridiculous.
After the movie, Kristin and I drove to Saugus to have some yummy Mexican food at the Border Cafe. There was a bit of a wait, but we got in and got delicious food. Incidentally, I got Kristin's leftovers, because she's flying out on Monday and it probably couldn't even take the ride to Foxboro. She: Chicken Guadalajara. Me: Beef Enchiladas. We also had some guacamole. She: margaritas. Me: diet coke.
I was driving.
We came back to my house one more time, and then I drove her home. I probably won't see her again for another six months. Last time I saw her was May; this is November; I would guess that our next visit will occur in May.
Sunday.
I had intended to write all day, although today wasn't a total loss; I did some research on Berlin for the period between the 1970s and 1990; right now I'm making spice cake. mmmm.
Most of it was wasted, but the day isn't over yet.
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