Sunday, March 23, 2008

Now is Christ risen from the dead and become the first fruits of them that slept

Happy Easter! Thanks to R for the reminder of my favorite train sighting from Road Trip 2005, the epic journey that provided such lasting souvenirs as my t-shirt from the Country Music Hall of Fame, Rebecca's new driver's side rearview mirror, and, of course, this blog. Nothing says birthday like a bunch of boxcars.

It was a nice birthday... we had a little party the Saturday before involving grilled pork chops (one thing I will miss about Texas is birthday barbecues, even though they always consist of meats I don't eat), crepes, dominoes, and Celebrity. Yes, after years of me and Alexa halfheartedly swearing we're going to teach everyone here how to play Celebrity, I finally asserted my birthday dictatorship privileges and made it happen. (Jenna, you will be proud to note that you were inexplicably one of the celebrities. I think Scott wrote you down. You were also in the company of two separate Pamela Andersons and an Uncle Remus.)

I had my birthday off from work because that's the kind of new age feel-goodery I work at. My boss said to me two weeks ago, "You're taking your birthday off, right?" Since I hadn't been planning to (who on earth refuses to work on their birthday???) I started hemming and hawing, and was interrupted by my co-worker whose birthday is the day after mine, who piped up, "I'm taking MY birthday off." Well, damned if I was going to be the only one working on my birthday! Sorry, reproductive rights in Texas, you'll just have to protect yourselves on March 18 from now on.

Richard also had the day off and we decided to cash in my free passes to a spa/wellness retreat center outside of town that I won at my karate kickathon by having the most people donate to me. (This is because I have the most fantastic friends ever. If I still owe you a thank-you note and package, that comment is particularly directed toward you.) It was pouring rain for most of the afternoon, but we still managed to squeeze in a complimentary hippie buffet, a very wet hike through the woods, a swim in the pool, a couple of dips in the hot tub, and a visit to the dry sauna. For dinner we used another gift certificate and went out to dinner downtown. Then we picked up our mail from Bill & Quincy, dropped off some homebrew at Jeff & Jessica's, stayed to listen to a recording of Obama's race speech, and came home to find a phone message from LeJay (pronounced "Lee-Jay") who works at the bowling club that's a subsidiary of the agricultural society that also manages the old dancehall out in the country where we want to hold the wedding. We got our date confirmed, LeJay put our contract in the mail, and we now have the deceptively self-satisfied feeling that we're actually good at wedding planning and now that that's settled, we don't have to think about anything else for at least six months. This is a lie. But that doesn't really bother us.

This weekend was no less exciting... on Saturday we went to the wedding of a couple of people we sing with. It was our first Primitive Baptist wedding, which meant I got some ideas of how to possibly incorporate Sacred Harp into our own ceremony. Maybe, maybe not. We'll see. And this morning I went out to Easter brunch with my friend Cindy, her grandfather, and his partner, who were in town and told her she could invite "one friend." Sorry, Richard. (Now now, don't look at me askance... if someone offered to treat you to brunch at the Eastside Cafe, you'd abandon Richard on Easter morn, too.) Gramps and David were utterly delightful. The best part about going out to eat with old gay men is that when you tell them you work for an organization that lobbies for reproductive rights and comprehensive sex education, and it evolves into a discussion about David's days as a community health educator in New Orleans, you don't have to lower your voice even though you're talking about condoms because Gramps is slightly deaf in one ear and won't be able to hear you if you speak in a polite murmur. So when David told us about unrolling a condom over his right arm to prove a point to the teenage boys who were complaining that condoms are too small - by god, you can bet the whole front room of the Eastside Cafe was listening. They're moving to Austin this spring, which I couldn't be more tickled about. Maybe they'll take me to the Houston Opera with them sometimes.

We finally saw the Simpsons movie tonight. And now it's officially the day after Easter. And I am going to bed. Effective as of the end of this sentence. This sentence I'm typing now. Period.


  1. You stole my 236 thunder! And there's NOTHING easter appropriate in JCS. Good thing Mr. Goodman bailed me out there.

    Clearly I need to change the blog title and description to:
    Look, Katie! Look, Rebecca!
    We'll always have Road Trip 2005.

    Then I won't have to update the banner at all. I like this plan.

  2. Shit, I missed your birthday! This is what happens when things aren't on my calendar. I can't even remember to give visitors the little plastic audioguide tokens, so whoever's giving out audioguides always has to ask me whether or not the person requesting an audioguide from them has in fact paid for an audioguide.

    Okay, enough about my horribly bad memory. HAPPY [BELATED] BIRTHDAY, or as they say here, BUON COMPLEANNO, or AUGURI! There's probably also something strange in Venetian with a z in it, but that's all I got.


  3. 1. wait, who got married?
    2. it reminds me of dan hertzler's comment about being world-famous in select circles. how did my charade go?! did it involve my boobs?? and wait, uncle remus?! there is more to this story than you are telling.
    3. already shopping ATL to AUS fares!

  4. What?? I missed your birthday too?? I'm such a forgetful mothereffer.

    Happy late late birthday!! I will install some art today in your honor! :-)