I've Got All My Sisters With Me

Roadchick has had a very busy, very interesting weekend. Let's rewind, shall we?

Friday night, Roadchick went to her best friend's house to hang out for awhile. She was figuring on playing some cards and not much else. But, it was not to be. Best friend's stepdaughter was needing a ride to the other side of creation so Roadchick went along for the ride. Little did she know that on the way back, she would be treated to the East Side Tour.

What is the East Side Tour, you ask? It is a personally guided tour of the East Side of Nashville, led by none other than Best Friend's Husband. The exact details of the tour have escaped her at the moment, but Roadchick does remember there being something about the locations of various donut shops and other assorted establishments that one cannot live without. But, y'all, Roadchick could not hang. It was 10:00 and Roadchick was yawning like a toddler up past her bedtime. She headed home.

The next day dawned with a phonecall from a friend of Roadchick calling her to talk. At 7:15. In the morning. Now, to be fair to the friend, where he was, it was an hour later. And he had been up for several hours because he drives a truck. And he was bored. And returning Roadchick's call from the day before. So she talked to him until the first cup of coffee was consumed and then...got ready to go to Target.

No, Patient Reader, she did NOT go to Target on Friday like she said. She believes in shopping under pressure. So, to Target she went. And snagged baby gear and a gift bag. And a killer pair of shoes. And all the various stuff that she managed to run out of in the 8 weeks since she last shopped. Like shampoo. And lotion. No, she has not gone without bathing, but she did have to break into the travel stash to get her over the hump. So, Roadchick is now re-stocked and ready to go.

The baby shower. Oy vey. Did Roadchick mention that she HATES baby showers? Well, she does. But she went. And was forced to wear a nametag made out of a blue napkin folded into a diaper shape. With her name on it, obviously. Only to find out that it was part of a party game. When the moment arrived, everyone had to take off their nametags and unfold them to see if . . .it was a dirty diaper. Because if it was, the lucky (unlucky?) participant won a door prize. Roadchick did not win. Roadchick is not disappointed. After the gift opening, Roadchick bailed. And headed for Nashville.

Back to Best Friend's house and then to the movies to see Nacho Libre. Cute. Somewhat funny. The line "because sometimes, when you are a man, you will wear stretchy pants in your bedroom" will be used time and again. That's a promise.

After the movie, Roadchick, Best Friend, and Best Friend's husband headed out for drinks. Roadchick had a hard time because her Club ADHD affliction was not indulged and she had to stay stationary for what seemed to be a VERY LONG TIME. But then...Roadchick and posse headed for The Bad Karaoke Bar that was mentioned in a previous post about meeting Cleopatra. Roadchick has not been back to The Bad Karaoke Bar since that fateful New Year's Eve. Apparently, while Roadchick was away, pursuing the offerings of eHarmony and sampling the clubs downtown, The Bad Karaoke Bar has turned into a gay bar.

Roadchick was amazed. She was surprised. And the karaoke? Still bad. No drag queen divas struttin' it for the homefolks. She briefly considered doing some Judy for the crowd and then decided that there was still not enough beer in Tennessee to warrant such action. So, she played darts instead. And the evening did not suck. And Roadchick was no longer bored and wanting to move on.

But, it was time to go. Back to Best Friend's house to watch TV and hang out for awhile longer. And Roadchick was amazed to find out that Hulk Hogan has his own reality show a la The Osbournes. Hogan Knows Best. And Roadchick was entertained. It almost made her wish she had good cable. Almost. But not quite.

There was knitting this weekend also. The Preppy Warshrag is becoming a reality. And if Roadchick gets it together, she might even find a digital camera to take a picture of her masterpiece for you, Patient Reader.

But, just remember, y'all - sing it loud and sing it proud - we are family...