ALL WE DID
My weekend with my friendly companion Barrington essentially consisted of the following: beer, football, beer, football, football, 1 trip to the gym, hangovers.
Besides the usual drinking and socializing and shot taking (not to be confused with shot calling), we spent 90% of Sunday laying on the couch watching football (by that I mean he watched football and I read my book) which makes Barrington one of my favorite house guests of all time. I casually mentioned at one point that we could go to a museum or monument or something, but said so in a whisper and prayed he didn’t hear me because the idea of taking off my pajamas and showering seemed like the worst thing ever.
WE BROKE THE BED!
My bed is a 2nd hand number that I bought from the stranger I replaced in my first apartment in DC. God knows how many people had slept in it prior, which only freaked me out until I doused the thing in lysol. It’s a full bed, the perfect size to sleep one single girl that enjoys taking up as much sleeping space as possible* and/or force someone to spoon me.
The wheels of the bed frame have long been tossed, so the metal posts sit on plastic risers, as to not poke holes in my incredibly old wood floors. The first night Barrington was in town we managed to break my bed (WHILE SLEEPING AND ONLY SLEEPING), as it turns out those plastic risers are not able to sustain me + 240 pounds of solid American muscle. We were able to macgyver the bed together so we weren’t sleeping at an angle all weekend but it would not, however, hold up to vigorous activity. Which is fine– since we all know I’m not gettin’ any. (Sorry, mom. I know that was an over share).
My mom, aunt and uncle are rolling into town this weekend for (bear with me) my mother’s best friend and business partner’s daughter’s wedding. I got an e-mailed reminder the other day about the scheduled wedding activities and noted it said “cocktail attire”. For a girl who has a shit ton of clothing, I didn’t have a single thing that could be considered “cocktail attire”. I have work dresses, slutty dresses, dresses that I can wear both to the bar and to my usual outdoor northern Minnesota wedding, but nothing that said “cocktail” and “I didn’t just come from the office” and “I don’t normally wear this with cowboy boots to go out drinking”.
I weighed my options. I could haul myself to the Pentagon City Mall, have to take on and off my clothes multiple times and be generally annoyed– or! I could spend $400 on completely returnable merchandise and have it 2 day shipped to my office. I went with trying on clothes with someone barring my office door, because god damn, do I hate the mall. Cross your fingers I’m not rolling up to this wedding in either a formal gown I wore to a black tie event last December or a dress that also doubles as part of my black suit.
*The hotel in Wichita had gigantic king sized beds and I woke up sleeping completely sideways.