The Way Things Are






Who has time to brood
2005-10-21, 2:08 p.m.

Who has time to brood on the state of weird around here? Itís all running-with-our-hair-on-fire, all the time.

Hereís the skinny: this weekend is DWís 25th or somewheres around there high school reunion. But first, Lil Guy has a middle school dance here in San Antonio. And at the same time, Iíll be in our little town, in the thick of a small-town homecoming football game. So I get to be in two places at the same time tonight. Much driving back and forth, some of it even in the dark! Iím such a brave little toaster.

And tomorrow. TOMORROW! I have a work function, i.e. a special even that somebody else dreamed up, scheduled, and requested my all-important presence at (I know we donít end a sentence with a preposition, so Iíll rewrite that: ďand requested my all-important presence at, the assholes!). Thatís from 10 to 11, of course not in the town that I actually live in, but in San Antonio. BUT AT THE SAME TIME, DW has invited some of his fellow reunionites over to our house to watch the UT-Tech game.

So I get to be in two places at once tomorrow, too! YAY!

But oh no, not just the guys. Itís the guys, and their wives, and their kidsÖand one transgendered woman. I donít EVEN know how to go about prepping the house for that one. Sheís a giant (Hah! A 6 foot 4 woman) football fan, and is the quarterback on her co-ed flag football team. Hell, in fact, back when she was a man, she and DW played football together. Well, not just the two of them Ė that would be weird. They were part of a larger team. And then they roomed together in college.

But anyway, I like her just fine, and I admire her bravery in doing what she has done. But I have never hostessed such a person in my home before, and I donít know whether to be worried about the cobwebby light fixtures, or just plying her with cheap beer and Fritos.

Iím so confused. But I digress.

I have a house load of people coming over tomorrow. I have a messy, half-moved-in house with ratty furniture and dirty floors. Hey, itís the country. We live with dusty, dirty floors. There will be men. There will be women. There will be children. There will be women who used to be men. Do I just provide football and Black Label beer, or do I need to go all out with the bedmaking and floor-mopping? Is it a big deal, or just a bunch of slobs watching football?

See how confused I am?

Simultaneous to the football watching, Iíll be in San Antonio, being assaulted by the demands of my housing developer, who cannot just invite me to an event so that I can smile, but will have outrageous requests for me, as well. Iím all on pins and needles, wondering what crazy shit will hit me upside the head tomorrow. Why, just a moment ago, they called to see if I could do an interview in Spanish for one of our local media outlets! Scuse me? Iím as white as white can be. I donít even speak fluent proper English (I speak fluent redneck), much less have I mastered anything more in Spanish than ordering dinner.

Can you see how the brainial processes in my brain are swirling about in the most disorganizedly fashion possible? Do you see how I jump from topic to topic hereinwith, making up words without actually finishing a thought before I jump onto the next one? Thatís whatís going on in my head right now.

Come on in Ė itís fun in here!

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