Which is not just a day, but a maritime distress call, as I understand it. And if you have allergies like me, you know why.
At any rate, last night we were all out for a gathering at a certain neighborhood bar which shall remain nameless in honor of Ms. Z and Mr. A who are about to tie the knot on Saturday. This week, I've gone out so much that I feel like I'm back in grad school again, but without all of the embarrassing side-dramas, like the one where I literally practiced myself right into three weeks of complete vocal rest, including no talking. omg.
I really want to find time next weekend to go to Opera Vivente's Albert Herring, as a good friend is playing a big role in the production. But it seems I also have in-laws coming in for Mother's Day weekend. My own mother? Well, she will probably be out on the boat. Or deciding which trip she should take next or trying to get a trade on the time-share for Paris or something.
Me? I just want to go to Albert Herring, although a weekend of gambling in Las Vegas is sounding better and better...with drinks by the pool, of course.
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