Why are the weekends always so damn short?
Friday night was great, I started it off by leaving work 2 hours early and hanging out at the pub until the very last minute when I had to leave to go to my brothers high school graduation. considering he was graduating from a very small private school with a graduating class of only 38, you would think the ceremony would be fairly short. You would be dead wrong.
First, there were 3 girls tied for valedictorian. All 3 spoke. All 3 thanked each individual member of their family and each individual member of the school staff. The third girl to speak had learned how to use Power Point the month prior and put together a slide show consisting of 3 pages of pictures of every single graduating senior. Then the principal spoke. The principal is also the pastor of the church (its a christian school). He spoke to every single senior. THEN, he gave his testimony. I actually thought there was going to be an altar call.
At that point I started to itch, because I'm a heathen.
The timing was great though because I was going to pick a friend up from the Oakland Airport. Shauna, thank you for flying into Oakland on Friday night. You saved me from what had to be the longest high school graduation ceremony in recorded history.
Picking up Shauna was definitely worth the drive to Oakland and back. We were able to catch up on a lot, and its great to see an old friend whenever I have the chance.
Saturday, I slept in then that night I went to Kelly and Megans for a girls night. Several beers were consumed, snickers cake was snacked upon, and I discovered that Megan and I make a formidable team for Pictionary.
Sunday I went over to my cousin Erins and hung out with her and her parents while they figured out her wireless internet/phone/cable/tivo set up. I also napped with her cat Turtle. He has got to be one of the best nap buddies ever - the epitome of cuddlyness.
Before going to Erins I had to take my grandma up to Placerville to pick her car up from the mechanics. About a month or two ago I decided that what I'm going to do as my birthday present to myself is take an introductory flying lesson. On the way up there from Sunrise and Highway 50 we could see some of the airshow that was going on over at Mather Air Field - at that time they had the small planes doing the aerial acrobatics, which I figured was a good time to tell grandma that I'm going to take flying lessons.
Appropriate timing, don't you think?
I'm anticipating her response to be something along the lines of "dangerous, blah blah blah, assinine, blah blah blah, JFK Jr, blah blah blah, what do you need to be up THERE for, blah blah blah, assinine" so, I brace myself.
"Grandma, I've figured out what I"m going to do for my birthday"
"Take flying lessons"
"Great. Just what we need, a PILOT in the family" - now, I cannot express in words the tone in which that was said. The closest equivalent statement would be if you substituted "PILOT" with "DOMINATRIX" or "CAR THIEF" because, as you know, my family - with its addicts, petty criminals, and numerous unwed mothers - is the epitome of white middle class decorum. But, the minute someone becomes a pilot, its all down the crapper.
"Grandma, you know it does take more than 1 lesson to become a pilot. I'm not saying I definitely want to get my license, but if I like it after the one lesson I may end up doing that but it would take a while to actually get my license."
"You can't even afford an airplane!!"
I love her thought pattern here - you want to learn to fly? you're going to have to buy an airplane - too bad you can't afford it. Essentially she's saying "keep your ass on the ground where it belongs"
Erins mom thinks I should make a fake sales contract for a Cessna, take the one lesson and tell granny that I LOVED IT then ask her to cosign on a Cessna. We torment her because we love her.