I’m thankful Christmas is over. I tend to get a little impatient for all these holidays to be over with and spring to be here this time of year. After New Years I tend to dread the long, cold months of January, February and March. I know you say January and February should only be the worst months in Georgia but many times March has come in like a lamb and left like a lion. March is a teaser, for sure. I’m not so much as looking forward for 2014 to be over with but to just have the weird holiday schedule and cold months out of the way.
Charlie was good to me this year at Christmas. Instead of buying me the necessary oven that we so need she got me a drum kit. This was the sonor kit I have been looking at for a year now. This was just the shell kit with the bass, toms and snare and she got me a high-hat with Zildjian cymbals. It’s a start. I’ve ordered a snare stand and bass pedal and bought a throne yesterday. She doesn’t understand why I haven’t been playing it yet. I don’t think she understands that I need something other than a cement block to sit on and the snare needs to be on a stand and that I need something to beat the bass with. So….once I have it all together then she’ll hear it – probably more than she will like, too. She may be regretting this purchase.Later, I’m going to get a ride cymbal but that will be awhile. I want a good one and need to do a little research before I buy one. Plus, I’ll probably need to spend about $200 for a good one.
Other than wishing that my kit was put together enough to bang on it over the holidays I haven’t really done much. Christmas eve we went over to Ellen’s for dinner. Every year she invites us over for “beef wellington”. This cracks me up because it’s always just the beef with biscuits on the side (In a separate pan not even in the same backing dish. One of these days I’m going to ask her how she came up with the name – I know it’s the thought that counts, yes I know)
Ellen asked another couple over Steph and CeCe – and while I like them they are slightly on the [yawn] boring side. (Gosh, I guess it all can’t be rock bands and strippers, Lanie). Earlier that day I told Charlie that we needed to eat a really good late lunch as knowing Ellen the “beef wellington” probably wouldn’t be in the oven when we got there, and, it wasn’t. That’s the thing with eating any kind of meal with Ellen – you
‘re really drunk by the time you wait until 10:00 at night to eat.
We were sitting in the livingroom talking, me on my 5th beer while the BEEF was in the oven and Ellen brought up her ex. (Ellen always finds ways to work her ex into conversation every time we see her). We happened to be [yawn] talking about place settings. I was getting up to go have a shot of whiskey when Ellen said, when [ex] and her were married they had their own place setting. I looked at Charlie in horror thinking, Don’t get any ideas, you.
But, after we broke up I decided I didn’t like those place settings anymore (even though she still has them in her china cabinet – I would have busted them all over the b*tches front yard) and bought my own place setting at Williams and Sonoma. I could only afford one setting. It was, like, $600.
I about spit my whiskey across the room.
I was relieved after that because I knew that Charlie and I would never spend that kind of money on dishes. In fact, we bought our last set at the thrift store.
The night wore on, the beef baked on. Finally, after dinner we did the white elephant thing. Charlie had bought some planks to grill fish on and I had bought a small heavy duty camping flask. We both thought we did well. Well, Charlie gets some poo- pourri spray (no.sh*t – no pun intended) and I got this paper mache box that had small post-it notes in it. I opened it up and looked up in puzzlement and Steph said, It’s a worry box. You write on the note what you’re worried about and put it in there.
I wanted to say Well, I know what I’m not worried about is spending six hundred bucks on a place settling.
Then, we had to watch a youtube video on poo-pourri spray. I went to refill my whiskey. Can’t all be rock bands and strippers, Lanie.