1, 2, 1-2-3, I've got a ticket, so ride with me

We came, we saw, we rode the roller coasters.  Cas and I used the Groupon I got for Six Flags today.  It was kind of a huge bargain.  We got parking, two admissions and two meals, which is supposed to cost $200.  The deal made it $119, and I had 20% off.  I felt like a bargain-hunting ninja for that one.  Total cost $95.20.  Go, me!

We got there within ten minutes of the park opening for the day, and we immediately proceeded to a roller coaster.  Then, we went to another one.  We were on a mission to ride coasters.  We did divert our attention for a moment to get on the Texas Sky Screamer, a ride that paired people on swing-chairs, lifted us 400 feet in the air and whipped us around in a circle.  One of the instructions they gave us before lifting us off the ground was that we should keep our hands and feet inside.  That was a real puzzler.  Inside what, exactly?  Our feet had nothing to be inside of.  I'm a big fan of stupid warnings, in fact.  A few of the rides we enjoyed warned us to keep all of our parts inside the car.  We both puzzled at that one.  It may be best not to ask specifics about our parts.  One ride required that each participant possess two naturally, fully formed and functioning arm extremities absent of prosthetic devices.  Seems harsh. 

It was pretty and breezy most of the day, and we were only uncomfortably hot for a little piece of time after two in the afternoon.  We finished our day on the Texas Giant and walked out to his car after five.  I was never happier to be dating someone whose vehicle had a good air conditioner in it, and the shower I took while the rest of the city sat down to dinner was the most welcome weirdly-timed one I can remember.   

Cas will be headed out for his big Ireland trip soon, and I will really miss the whirlwind of activity that we have been enjoying.  Waiting in line for one ride, we looked down on people racing around in little cars like they have at Speed Zone.  I thought about that- we had been dating for only five weeks when we raced tiny cars; as of today, we haven't even been an item for two months yet.  It's been a strange almost-two-months.  We have spent so much time together.  Teacher+Teacher+Summer= any day of the week is fair game.  It's a Monday today, for Pete's sake.  We just spent almost seven hours on a Monday at an amusement park.  Who does that?  Teachers in June- that's who. 

Tomorrow is our last trivia night together for a while.  I may go the following week without him, but I am pretty sure he is our team's secret weapon.  We shall see how well we fare without our resident math nerd, but we won't be seeing that tomorrow...  

These are my people!

Cas and I have plans later in the summer to go to New Braunfels, get a pair of inner tubes and float down the Guadalupe River.  Last night, we practiced our floating technique a little bit in my cousin Holly's pool.  True to form, there were snacks and drinks upon our arrival at Holly and Jason's house.  Later in the afternoon, there was pizza.  It was Janina's going away party- a last hurrah before her return to Finland. 

There was a good group present, and I referred to them as "my people."  Cas evidently likes my people.  I was called upon to make shots a few times in the day, and I obliged my hosts.  I managed a lemon drop, then something that was like a chocolate covered cherry.  I built one that was mint chocolate chip in flavor, as well.   Jason was all excited to use up a multi-pack of flavored vodkas in tiny bottles.  I did my best. 

We stayed out by the pool (or floated around in the pool) for several hours, and it was a good time.  As much as I have loved all of our recent outings, lounging is a good thing to do, as well.  It's Sunday today, and Cas has plans with his brother.  I, of course, have my usual plans to go hang out with Mom and Dad.  But tomorrow, all of the lounging ceases.  Tomorrow, we tackle Six Flags. 

Let's go, Rangers (Clap, Clap, ClapClapClap!)

Tonight, we went to the ballpark.  I love the ballpark.  It's one of the most beautiful sports facilities I have ever seen.  Now, I haven't exactly traveled the world looking at sports facilities, but the ballpark in Arlington (whatever it's called from one season to the next, depending on who paid for naming rights) is absolutely gorgeous.  It is more than just a grassy space to play ball; it is an elaborate palace built to honor the game of baseball. 

I don't know the last time I went to a baseball game.  I can't remember the last time I participated in the wave.  It was a blast.  I even busted out a Rangers baseball cap that I honestly don't remember buying. 

The Rangers had a 5-0 lead going into the 9th inning, but I have seen games where one team scored seven runs in an inning, so you never leave until the victory is certain.  This was one of those games I was glad we stuck out.  In the top of the 9th, it got pretty tense.  The Twins rallied and managed to score four runs.  When the last out was imminent, we were all on our feet.  When it happened, the place erupted in cheers.  It was a good one. 

Cas and I had a great time.  I haven't had a dull moment with him yet.  Every time we do something, it's pretty great.  We have plans tomorrow to go to my cousin Holly's house and bum around by the pool.  Holly and Jason have been hosting a really sweet foreign exchange student from Finland this year, and tomorrow is a going away party for her.  Cas met her during Memorial Day weekend, so he should definitely go and say bon voyage.  I know I should.  Janina is a sweet girl, and I think it may be just a little quiet over at their house when she goes home.  I'm sure they'll stay in touch, though.  If she had lived in my house for a year, I would want to know what her next moves are. 

That's it for me, though.  I am the kind of happy-tired that has been my standard feeling at the close of many days lately.  G'night, all.  

Recommended by Martin Scorsese

We managed to double up yesterday.  After the morning at the Arboretum, Cas went off the the gym and I went to have a pretty decent nap.  Then, he came over and shared a pizza and a bottle of wine with me.  We watched Shakes the Clown. 

Shakes the Clown was one of the dumbest movies ever made, and we laughed out loud frequently while watching it.  I had seen it before, but it's been years.  It still holds up, though.  It's as dumb now as it was in the nineties.  This whole thing came up when there was a trivia question on Tuesday asking which Bobcat Goldthwait film was once described by Martin Scorsese as "The Citizen Kane of alcoholic clown movies."  When I immediately announced to our team that it was Shakes the Clown, Cas was intrigued.  Well, to put all of those curiosities to rest, we spent the $3 on Amazon instant video and watched the movie. 

Lest we seem to be indulging in too much culture, there's always a bit of the immature available.  The Nasher then Speed Zone.  Shakespeare then volleyball.  Flowers then Shakes.  When he sent me a text to say he had arrived safely home, I let him know that there aren't many men who would happily spend the morning at the Arboretum then gleefully spend the evening watching the Citizen Kane of alcoholic clown movies.  He wrote back to tell me that women who find a day well spent that way are pretty rare, as well. 

A week from today, he is headed off on his own big summer adventure.  He has a trip with his father bicycling in Ireland planned.  It sounds like a great time for him, and I am glad he is going, but I am just a little sad that we will miss watching July 4th fireworks together.  Maybe at tonight's Rangers game, someone will hit a home run and the Ballpark will treat us to a few celebratory sparkles.  In the meantime, I have a deadline of a project at school that I have been ignoring- to my own detriment- now I have to spend my morning doing actual work.  Blegh. I just need to get it done so I can go watch baseball.  Eyes on the prize.  

Toads in real life

This morning, Cas came over uncharacteristically early and we started on our way to the Dallas Arboretum. It was a bit warm, but honestly, it was not a typical June day in Texas. It was nearly pleasant. The Arboretum is a beautiful place, but it has been very crowded every other time I have been there. This is a key advantage of being a teacher and having summers off- we went on a Thursday morning.

We walked around the gardens, looking at the flowers. We literally stopped and smelled the roses. We stopped and smelled a variety of flowers, in fact. We even ventured shoeless into the splashed water from a fountain. It featured four toads arranged so that they created corners and faced inward. Water streamed from their mouths into a central shallow area where presumably, it cycled back through. There was a sign out front explaining some rules, and the sign caused me to wonder what had to happen before they actually went to the trouble of writing up the rules. There was one rule warning patrons not to change diapers there. There was another warning patrons with diarrhea or contagious diseases to stay away. I shudder to think of what prompted the folks at the Arboretum to actually write these things down. As I pondered this and sat watching the frogs shoot out a steady stream of water, Cas said, "This is nothing like how toads vomit in real life." I am amused that he is the kind of guy who would say something like that, and I think he is pretty tickled that he found a girl who laughs at a comment of that sort.

I ran my Charity Miles app as we strolled from one part of the beautiful garden to another, and we managed to wander over three miles together. It was just about the prettiest walk I've been on. We stopped for iced tea and a piece of lemon cake along the way- mostly just to have a cold drink in a place with air conditioning. After that, we walked around a bit more before we were both in agreement that the trip had been a success. We came, we saw and we smelled the flowers. We stopped for some tacos on the way back to my house, and he left not too long ago. He has an afternoon class at his gym, and he is pretty determined to get the most from his membership.  I am ready for a nap.

For reference, here is a toad, and for your viewing pleasure, I'll throw in one of Cas' selfies. It was a pretty day.

Don't kick her, Sharkeesha!

This week, our team was called, "Don't kick her, Sharkeesha!" True to our name, we beat down the competition. We managed an unprecedented number of correct answers. It was kind of amazing. It was the kind of night that makes me rethink my policy of not buying lotto tickets.

My friend Laura wasn't there, but two of my lunch buddies from work made it.  Of course, Cas was by my side, and Jerone came with a friend who had a surprising knowledge of fish from his scuba diving endeavors. I have to say, though, my proudest moment was getting the "Shakes the Clown" answer that nobody else was able to manage. Gotta love Bobcat Goldthwait. I mean- somebody's got to, right? That film was an underrated classic. 

We were in first place every time the scores were announced, and it's just a little bit euphoric. Not standing on the top platform wearing a gold medal with your hand over your heart and singing the national anthem euphoria, but it feels nice to kick a little ass. 

Cas was as clever as ever. He knew plenty of things that left the rest of us scratching our heads, but I'm proud of the political stuff Jerone and I were able to pull out when the questions called for it. I guess it pays to DVR the Sunday morning shows. 

It was a rainy, humid day, and that's the excuse for my ratty hair in this photo. Tonight, Jerone was the only one whose hair was apparently unaffected by the weather. Anyhow, this is what a table full of smart people looks like: 

The world's dorkiest accessory

I am trying to get back into the habit of walking a few miles every day or two for exercise. I use an app on my phone called "Charity Miles" that makes a donation through one of its sponsors based on the distance travelled in a walk, a run or a bike ride. Today, I walked for food banks.

It was allegedly 87 degrees out, but it was a super-humid, windless 87. I didn't go as far as I would have liked. I knew that my air conditioner back at the house was humming along, and the draw was too great. 

When I go for a walk, I use spray-on sunscreen. I wear a baseball cap and sunglasses. I also take water along. Last summer, I walked to the .3 mile path in my local park, put a water bottle on a picnic table, and took a sip every lap- until I bought the dorkiest looking item I regularly wear. It's a clip-together belt fashioned a-la-fanny-pack with a lined bottle pocket. Yes, I am aware of how stupid it looks, and no, you won't be able to talk me out of it. It holds a water bottle, my house key, some lip balm and my phone, which ticks away the distance travelled while playing a podcast or an audiobook or something else nerdy. 

I live in the attendance area of the school where I teach, and I have seen my students while I've been out walking. I know they have seen me. They wave. None of them has subsequently mentioned the world's dorkiest accessory to me, though. Probably because my students are embarrassed for me. 

In Mother Russia, there are no substitutions

Wow.  What a great dinner.  Cas had a gift certificate for The Woodlands Grill.  It is on the Northeast corner of Preston and Forest, where you don't really expect much in the way of fanciness.  It shares that corner with a number of businesses, most notably, a grocery store.  There's a nail salon, a Chipotle, a Jimmy Johns, a discount hair salon and a bunch of other storefronts that don't exactly scream out "fancy restaurant-adjacent."  Still, it was a beautiful place and we ate wonderful food.  When the wine was all gone, the waitress with the thick Russian accent informed Cas that he should get me another glass of wine.  I said I was fine, and she said she was from Russia, and she admitted, "we drink a lot."  I believe I have heard something like that.

She was funny.  He wanted the house special, but he is not crazy about the sides that were offered with the dish.  He asked if he could make a substitution, and she started making recommendations.  This lady was all about making recommendations.  We had narrowed our appetizer choice down to two items, and when we told her which ones, she recommended three totally different items.  When Cas admitted he was no fan of broccolini, she recommended something else.  He had already planned out what he was after, but she kept firing away with a list of stuff he didn't want.  When he finally said he wanted the pasta side, she seemed to disapprove.  The same thing happened with dessert.  We had it all narrowed down to the cobbler or the brownie.  She sang the praises of the crème brûlèe and some kind of cake.  We went brownie.  She seemed really determined to sell us on her favorites and let our personal tastes and preferences be damned.  We didn't listen.  We got exactly what we wanted, and everything was beautiful and delicious. 

By the end of the meal, I was more interested in a nap than anything else.  It was an embarrassingly large amount of food, and I left no forkful behind.  It was too good to be modest or make a sorry effort at manners. 

After we finished up, we asked the host to take a photo.  Cas was saying the other day that he didn't have enough photos of the two of us together.  He took a kind of cute one, so here it is- this is what it looks like just after we eat far too much fancy food.

Fancy pants

One of the things I have determined about restaurants is that the sufficiently fancy ones don't put decimals or dollar signs on their menus.  Rather than tell you that a  chicken sandwich costs $10.00, they go for a minimalist approach.  Chicken Sandwich  -  10

When Cas mentioned a while back that he had a certificate for a dinner for two at a restaurant I had driven past but never been in, I didn't give it a whole lot of thought.  When he suggested it for dinner tonight, I thought it may be wise to check online and try to get a read on how I should dress.  This place does not employ dollar signs or decimals on its menu.  I guess we're dressing up a bit.  Cas mentioned that he may wear khakis, which is what started me down this road of checking the website.  I believe he has worn shorts every single time I have seen him since school ended, so the prospect of him in long pants and something that may require an iron means that there is a good chance I should pick out a dress and comb my hair. 

I got sand in my solstice

There is a place in Deep Ellum called Sandbar that features full sized sand volleyball courts.  You can borrow a ball by handing the bartender your keys and play a game with as many or as few people as you have.  We spent the evening of this summer solstice there.  I was initially pretty bad, and I didn't get a whole lot better, but I am told that I had a strong serve.  Maybe that's what people say to cheer up the girl who sucks at volleyball.

I have this terrible personality trait where I quit stuff if I am not immediately successful.  It's childish, and I know it, but it's something I am working on.  I also pick out bell peppers from dishes that contain them.  Other that, I am usually able to muster up some pretty grown-folks behavior.  I was initially so very bad that I thought I should just sit out the whole thing.  I went to the ladies' room and did my very best to regroup.  Get it together, Heather.  Go out there and play, even if you suck out loud.  And suck I did, but I tried.  It was hot and humid and I was covered in sand.  I dove down to try and retrieve the ball several times, but I was not especially good at any of it.  I did get pretty filthy, though.  I just got out of a midnight shower- I couldn't crawl into bed that way- and washed off the rest of the court from my skin. 

It's late and I am exhausted.  We were pretty hot and gross, actually, but it was another great night.  Chalk this one up to me learning another thing at which I do not excel.  I was in good company, though. Not a bad way to end the longest day of the year.  

The Majestic Zipper

I  just finished putting away the very last dish form the aforementioned fancy dinner I made for Cas.  It went off without a hitch.  I made Mom's recipe for pork tenderloin and served it on the china I may have mentioned previously.  I wanted it to be special.  I guess I was successful.  Cas was pretty over the moon about the meal.  It's hard to tell early on if a man really likes your food or if he likes you well enough to tolerate what's on the table, but I saw the empty plate.  If that empty plate combined with the consistent praise is to be believed, I knocked it out of the park. 

It was a fruit appetizer and a pair of cosmopolitan martinis followed by pork tenderloin, coated in Italian breadcrumbs and drowned in a whole bunch of red sauce, smothered in mozzarella cheese.  That  rested on some angel hair pasta tossed in olive oil  with a few sliced grape tomatoes and some fresh basil.  There was some garlic bread.  There was red wine.  There was a pretty darn good bread pudding to finish the whole thing off.  I was uncharacteristically pleased with the whole meal.  Usually, when I am faced with the prospect of making food for other people, I am riddled with self doubt.  I wonder if I made the right thing.  I wonder if it was cooked the right way.  I wonder if I could have made a better meal.  This time, I did not wonder.  There is an unfamiliar comfort in this new relationship.  He said it was good, and I believed him.  He even took a bit of the meal home, and I actually thought (and still think) it was because he liked the food.  But seriously- enough about that.  We went somewhere cool after the last bite was chewed. 

I had never been to the Perot museum before.  It reminded me in a lot of ways of trips to the Science Place when I was younger.  This was a pretty cool event.  The whole night was 21 and up, and everyone seemed to be having a great time.  When we arrived, we got a hand stamp.  It's been a good while since I had a stamp on my hand- I felt like I was headed into a night club.  I guess if it didn't say that I was going to an event at a museum, I could claim as much.  It's blurred beyond recognition this morning, so I may just be able to pretend. 

I had a great time at the museum with Cas.  We did the kid-friendly activities.  We generated the energy equivalent of a drop of gasoline with one exhibit and we created our own bird with another.  At the end of our decision making, we were met with a computer-generated image of what turned out to be a pretty unattractive bird.  We also got to name it.  There were two spinners on screen.  I spun the first one to choose an adjective and Cas spun the second one to choose a noun.  Our bird was called the Majestic Zipper.  Love it. 

We walked through other exhibits and played with other toys, but I pretty much had to ask Cas to stop at one point.  He had gotten very intent on doing a good job in a challenge about building with plastic sticks and connectors.  The idea was to build a structure that may withstand an earthquake.  If he had finished the design out to generate a structure of some height, we would have been at that exhibit until the museum personnel came to throw us out. 

As it turned out, we managed to leave of our own volition.  It was an absolute blast to go, and I felt like we had plenty of time to enjoy the place.  The event was themed, and it was supposed to be about superstitions, but we didn't participate in any of the events that were part of that theme.  Mostly, we avoided them because there were long lines.  There must have been people who spent half of the night waiting to get their palms read.  There was even a line to break mirrors then throw salt over your shoulder.  That seemed an odd reason to queue up.  The only long line we joined was for the bar.  That seemed totally reasonable. 

This afternoon, Cas will be with his grandmother celebrating her birthday.  She is somewhere in her nineties.  After that, we have plans to go out with a group of folks and play volleyball.  I haven't played volleyball since high school gym class, so I should be pretty awful.  Still, I will give it a try.  

China

I am making dinner for Cas tomorrow night before our trip to Adult Night at the Perot Museum- and Adult Night isn't something unsavory, though it does have that ring to it.  It's a grown folks time with no babies, no strollers, no little kids and a cash bar.  My kind of museum trip. 

I decided it would be nice to make him a meal before the museum.  In my typical manner, I started thinking too hard about it.  I wanted to make something very good.  I've never made dinner for Cas before, and I sort of want him to think that I possess some level of skill in the kitchen.  Maybe the success of my cookies for last night's picnic inspired me to prepare more food. 

In my over-thinking of something as common as a meal, I decided to pull out all the stops.  I also decided to pull out some of my Grandmother's china.  As I washed up the plates that had stayed in a cabinet so long that they were dusty, I realized that I hadn't done anything worthy of Grandma's china in a while.  In fact, I don't remember ever cooking a meal for a man I was dating and serving it on that china.  I think the last time I used it was when I had my parents and my younger brother over on a holiday. 

I know I will probably mention to Cas that the plates are from a set of my grandmother's china, but I don't think he will grasp the full meaning of those plates.  I don't think I have ever used them for a date before.  No date has ever warranted it.  I think Grandma would have liked Cas.  In fact, I think all of my grandparents would have liked him.  He's smart, kind and pleasant.  He laughs easily and often.  He is handsome without vanity, and he is kind to me.  Now, I just need to refrain from burning dinner.  

Much Ado

Shakespeare Dallas typically does a good job, but if you go to an outdoor show in the summer at Samuell Grand park, you usually have to put up with the oppressive heat, the invasive mosquitoes and the overwhelming crush of other humans.  Somehow, though, Cas and I hit up a show at the exact right moment.  It was beautiful outside.  There was just a hint of a breeze, the sun was down almost the whole time, and the bugs hadn't found the park this early in the season.  It was almost perfect.  Aside from the drunk woman taking flash photos and talking too loud during the performance, it was just about flawless.  Cas told me he was fighting the urge to throw grapes at her.  I told him I was very disappointed in him for fighting that urge.

Fun fact about me- I am a planner.  When Cas came to pick me up, I had my all weather blanket that zips into a carry-bag hooked together with two fabric stadium chairs.  I had two bottles of wine in a bag designed to carry exactly two bottles of wine.  I had cold filtered water, summer sausage, Gouda cheese, crackers and grapes.  I had four fresh chocolate chip cookies.  I had plates and even some plastic stemware.  I plan things.  It was just about the perfect picnic.  He wanted to get a few Panini sandwiches from Starbucks on the way, and it turned out we had too much food.  What a first world problem, right?

The show was great, my date was fabulous and one of my students was on stage.  I didn't know he would be there, but it was kind of a trip to see a name on the program that was on my class roster a month ago.

As for Cas, he was pretty thrilled with the whole thing.  He loves to do stuff like this, and I am happy for that.  It's a good summer so far, and it appears that it will continue this way.  I spent too much of the last few years of my life inside my house, and while I enjoy being in my house, it's nice- refreshing even- to leave it with someone who finds such joy in the same things as I do.

Insert clever team name here

This week, we named our trivia team "We put the F-U in Fun."  That must have done the trick, because we came in first place this time around.  I had some ideas for clever team names all figured out, but I was vetoed.  Too political on some counts and not easily understood on others.  Who doesn't love a good joke about Eric Cantor's pollster getting such monumentally incorrect results prior to a primary defeat in Virginia?  Apparently, most people...

Cas sat there at the table and converted Celsius to Fahrenheit in his head- in a matter of seconds- for one answer.  I figured out another one based on my supposition of preferred climate among cockroaches and languages commonly spoken in different regions of the world.  Jerone and Laura were instrumental, as well, but I gotta be honest- I was more focused on my guy.

It's a fun little game, and we already have plans to return next week.  As for today, I slept really late.  I woke up at around seven, wandered around my house for a minute, and realized I could go back to bed.  So I did.  Cas and I are headed to Shakespeare in the Park this evening.  It should be a free show, since it's a Wednesday.  The Tuesday and Wednesday shows are allegedly free- I guess we'll see.  I have to get to work on a picnic basket for the occasion.  I think one of the things I enjoy most about Cas is that he is game for anything.  He'll race tiny cars on Monday, play trivia on Tuesday and go watch some Shakespeare on Wednesday.  We have plans to hit up the Perot museum and a Rangers game relatively soon, and we have a pair of Groupons to get us into Six Flags and the Dallas Arboretum.  This all sounds fabulous, but not just the events- I am really happy about the person who is going with me.

Take my license, all that jive

Yesterday, we went out and raced little cars.  It was our long awaited and once delayed Speed Zone double date.  Cas came to pick me up at my house, and he brought me "a little bit of Florida."  It's funny how quickly he figured me out.  He could have bought a souvenir, but I rather prefer the thought of him walking along a beach, thinking of me and picking up only the prettiest shells.

As for the racing in the little cars, I was not as victorious as I had initially predicted I would be.  Alas, my future career is not in tiny-car-racing. I guess I will just stick with the teaching gig.  We did two different types of races before heading over to the miniature golf course.  

Cas had a system for the mini-golf.  Of course.  I just handed him the scorecard- was there even a question? He had a specified order in which everyone would participate.  At the first hole, Jerone would go first.  At the second hole, it was Julie's turn to lead off.  Hole three was for me, and he started the play at hole four.  At the fifth one, we were back to Jerone as the first mini-golfer.  

I don't believe I have ever expended that much mental energy mapping out an equitable manner in which to proceed at miniature golf.  This is the sort of behavior I have come to expect from Cas, though.  He typically has a logical, well-reasoned manner of doing things.  I'm not sure it did him any good, though.  We stopped at the 10th hole for time constraints, and at that point, Jerone and Julie were tied for first place.  I was behind them.  Cas was last.  I guess it serves him right for winning all three races in the formula one style cars.  I'll get him next time, though.  

Daddoo

Danny and I took Dad out for Greek food today. My mother is a fantastic cook, so when I asked Dad what he wanted to eat on Father's Day, I hoped he would choose something Mom wouldn't make. Mission accomplished- Mom has never made Greek food.

I got to the house with my gift in hand- a 12-pack of mixed Sam Adams beers- and Dad decided to arrange them in the small refrigerator the folks keep for beverages. Then, he went to the auto parts store and bought oil. Then, he changed the oil on his car. Finally, I announced that I was hungry- as a signal for him to get a move on... 

A while later, I was pleased to see a freshly showered Dad emerge. Then, we had to wait for Danny to finish up what he was doing. And folks say women take a long time to get ready... 

Anyhow, Greek food was fantastic, and Danny actually pulled out his wallet. Who knew he could do that? Afterward, we went to The Flying Saucer for beers. Danny pulled out his wallet AGAIN. It was a Father's Day miracle! 

Dad, Danny and I have a standing Sunday date for beers. Typically, we each have two, and usually, we make Dad pay the tab. Today, it was our treat. Whenever one of the trio is out of town or otherwise busy, the other two go out without the third. Once, when Dad was on a motorcycle trip, Danny and I went out for beers without him. We asked the waitress for an empty glass and took a photo. We texted it to Dad. We said we were flying the missing man formation. Today, we were all present. When one is gone, though, this is the sort of photo he can expect to see on the phone on a Sunday:

Always greener

The problem with being a stubborn person who was raised by Midwesterners is that you challenge yourself to become the tiger who can't change its stripes. You go for consistency. You keep things that you think you can use again, you know the value of a good hotdish recipe, and you don't have someone else do a thing you can do yourself. 

In Dallas, you don't see a woman mowing her lawn too often. Granted, there are others out there, but not many. This morning, I got up, wheeled the mower out of the garage and went for it. I've been doing this myself in all of the nine years I've been a homeowner, and the folks in the neighborhood have just about stopped staring. In no way do I enjoy doing this, but I am capable of it. That means I shouldn't pay someone else to do it. It's in my DNA. 

When I first wheeled out the lawnmower nine years ago, mothers would walk down the sidewalk of my street with their children and shoot a piteous look my way. It was a look that I took to mean, "Why isn't her man doing that for her?" 

Joke's on you, little mamma- I bought this place without one. Why? Because I am a stubborn person who was raised by Midwesterners, and I was able to do it myself.

He ain't heavy

It's Thursday the 12th.  That means that tomorrow is Friday the 13th.  And a full moon.  And my big brother's 41st birthday.  Jeff is currently living on the island of Oahu in the state of Hawaii.  I went last summer to visit him, and I am going back next month.  It's my birthday present to myself about a month early.

Last summer, I went with my mother, and we stayed at a nice hotel right next to Waikiki beach.  Mom has a pretty wonky knee, and the list of activities she was interested in doing was a little shorter than mine.  This summer, I am going to go alone, sleep on Jeff's couch and do lots of stuff.  I already bought a pair of board shorts.  I want to try my hand at surfing. 

I am pretty pumped up about the trip, but while it's still off in the distance, I have this photo of me with my big brother that we took in his backyard last summer. 

Trivial Pursuits

For tonight's appearance at pub trivia, Cas and I were once again joined by my good friend Laura, who was instrumental in last week's first place victory. Tonight, the team was called "Yes, they're real, and they're spectacular."

Our own personal Cupid Jerone came along this time. Jerone was the one who made the first, second and third introductions for me and the boyfriend. It didn't seem to take until that third time, but Jerone is a persistent man, and I am glad he kept putting the two of us together until we got the clue.

It was once again a blast. It's cool to watch smart people come up with obscure facts, and it's pretty handy when you're one of them. Hooray for smart friends, good times, and little victories.

Cas is headed out tomorrow morning to see his dad in Florida, so I am getting a dose of me-time. I'll hold on to this moment until I get my brand new boyfriend back on Monday:

The last summer of my 30s

This is the last summer of my thirties. I will be 40 when the next labor day occurs. My mother asked me what I wanted for my birthday. Last year, when my older brother turned 40, Mom and I went to visit him in Hawaii and she spent an awful lot of money on him. She decided that it would be only fair to do something rather big for my birthday. Her ideas were all stuff-based. She wanted to help me out with material things. I thought about it for a while. I didn't want stuff. I want experiences.

So this summer, I travel. I go places. I do things. I close out my thirties this way. School was officially over on a Saturday this year. We had to do a day on the weekend to make up for a snow day. So, yesterday was a Monday. My first day of summer. I slept late, made an unnecessarily elaborate breakfast and sat down to do a little bit of work I had wanted to accomplish. I went out on a double date after that. It was exactly one month since my first date with Cas. He's pretty fantastic.

Cas and I marked the occasion of one month since our first date yesterday with a nice, sparkly bottle of Prosecco. He brought it to my house, and we had it after our date.

Today, we get our team together to see if we can achieve victory in pub trivia for the second week in a row. Here's last week's winning team: