Anniversary Weekend.

Thank you all for your anniversary greetings! Our actual anniversary was Saturday, but R took Friday off so we could hang out for a couple of hours sans Apes. It's a bit of a Karma tradition to go to Hoods builders' surplus warehouse,


Fast Eddie's,


and Ted Drewes.


Later we went to Aldi to pick up a few staples and we saw this deliciously garish gold jaquard comforter set. We figured it would look sexy with the red satin sheets we got from Sportsman's Guide, so we picked it up - it included a king-size comforter, two shams, a gold dust ruffle and three accent pillows, all for $49.99. Awesome. We'll take it.

We took it home, stripped the bed and took out the new comforter set only to find that there was no dust ruffle. GAH! The gold dust ruffle was totally the best part! So we took it back, only to run into Reverend Aldi and The Aldis. At Aldi. Aldigirl was wearing a Bedazzled jean jacket. Double GAH!!!

By this time R and I didn't want to put the old sheets back on the bed, so we went to Garden Ridge and found a tastefully tacky set that we liked even better than the Aldi one - and it was ten dollars cheaper! We bought two additional king pillows to put in the shams, and now our bed looks all kickass pimped out.



And the funny part? As we were puting the new set on the bed, I looked on the floor and found... the dust ruffle from the Aldi set. So I had to schlep back there for the third time in twelve hours and explain that we'd bought the set and returned it because we thought there wasn't a dust ruffle, then we found said dust ruffle, so now you can put it in the bag with the comforter that we returned. No, no, we still don't want it, just thought we'd put the dust ruffle back. Sorry for the dust ruffle kerfuffle.

Saturday morning, our actual anniversary, before we took the dust ruffle back, R and I went to the least romantic place I can think of -


the DMV.

We had to renew our plates and R needed to renew his driver's license. Didn't take too long, for a Saturday. And I got to witness some interesting fashion choices.



That's a leopard poncho, turquoise stirrup pants, and argyle socks.

Later, Beeb and I went to yet another baby shower for yet another of R's cousins. I forgot to mention that I'd be going to yet another baby shower. Normally that's the kind of thing that I let you look forward to, but between Obama and Lubaba, I've had a lot of shit on my mind recently.

I like R's cousins and the rest of his family (minus FIL) just fine; it's just that they never have any fuckin liquor at these things and it pisses me off. There was some hope, however, that there might be liquor this time because last time the shower was at a non-family member's house. This time it was at Aunt Drama's. Jackpot.

Or at least, I thought it was at Aunt Drama's until I showed up right on time and didn't see any cars out front. Then I realized it was at Aunt Huggy's. There still might be liquor at Aunt Huggy's, since Aunt Drama's going to be there. And after driving twenty minutes out of my way due to my own stupidity, I could really use a fuckin Mimosa or something harder.

Got there, explained the honest reason for my tardiness ("Oh, Sarah, that's why we love you!" - oh good, at least I'm a loveable dumbass...), and tried to surreptitiously find out if there was a bar. I spotted a few open wine bottles and although I'm not a big wine drinker, if it was all there was (and it appeared to be all there was), I'd take it and everybody would soon see Why Sarah Should Not Have Wine.

Fuckin Sparkling Grape Juice. This family sucks.

I need a flask. With the word CLASSY engraved on it.

How totally White Trash is it to smuggle a flask into a baby shower? And how sad is it that I'm sooooo not above it?

I had both Vicodin and Xanax in my purse in the event of an emergency, but I really enjoy the process of getting drunk, you know? It's way more social than taking a pill and waiting for it to kick in. I don't like to drink alone (ok, I do have my own private happy hour when I'm making dinner, sometimes, but I prefer to drink with others who are also drinking), but pharmaceuticals are more appropriate when I just want to be left the fuck alone.

Anyway, I dragged Beebie with me so I would have someone I could talk to and I wouldn't be forced into awkward polite conversation with Mrs. Aldi. Plus, I figured that she brought Aldigirl last time, so she'd probably bring her again for the free food.



I was also kinda hoping Aldigirl would be there because Beebie looked SO beautiful and grown up and I wanted her to showcase her superior maturity, but alas, Aldigirl did not attend.

And neither did my favorite of R's cousins, Catty Nita. Nor did Carol The Boob Starer, which I must say was a major disappointment because I was looking forward to watching her face light up from the radiance of my Chitties. I even wore the perfect sweater for it. So it seemed that Beeb and I would have to endure the afternoon without any comic diversion.

And then it was time to open the gifts.

She reached for ours first. I'd lost the invitation (which is why I went to Drama's instead of Huggy's) and didn't know R's cousin's husband's name so I couldn't look up her registry, so I put together a cute pink and purple canvas bin full of the kinds of baby things you can never have too much of - diapers, wipes and the like.

Imagine you're a new mommy-to-be, at your baby shower, giddily anticipating all the wonderful, beautifully wrapped gifts that your friends and family members have thoughtfully chosen for you and the precious baby girl you're carrying, and the very first thing you unwrap is THIS:


Butt Paste.

If only I could have reached into my bra, whipped out my Classy flask, unscrewed the top and said, "That's right, bitches, I'm FAMILY!!" and taken a big sloppy swig of Wild Turkey as they all sat gobsmacked.

Just adding my own signature brand of tasteless style.