1: Number of shameless press-pass flashes, admitting me to local events free-of-charge. (Note - Less than usual.)
3: Beers consumed Saturday evening. (One Corona at dinner before, 2 drafts at Bull-Riding.)
19: How many people's outfits my group quietly ridiculed. (I know it's mean, but you should have SEEN these people! Cowpokes are funny.)
3.5: Days until Gretchen, Shannon, and Maggie arrive for Fantasy Fest.
84,000: How many times I've sneezed as a result of dust lifted during frantically cleaning our house to prepare for having guests this weekend.
2: Number of worms I've found in obscure places while cleaning.
2: Number of beds on porch in anticipation of friends sleeping over. (The porch looks SO nice, people. I may sleep out there.)
100: Percentage of Neal's and my next few paychecks already spent to reduce debt.
3: Bottles of wine greedily consumed by Neal and me this weekend. (We're big ol' lushes, I know.)
3: Number of videos watched. (28 Days, Passions of Mind, and The Matrix, AGAIN.)
4: How many times Neal and I simultanously began bobbing our heads to The Matrix soundtrack. We're suckers for heavy bass under a techno beat.
3: Number of times when referring to 28 Days, I called it 48 Hours, then made the (bad) joke, "Well, that'd be awfully short re-hab!"
0: How many Halloween decorations got set out for big weekend. (Will put them out this week.)
137,000: Minutes this past weekend spent on phone long-distance with friends, discussing this coming weekend and repeatedly squealing, "I'm SO excited!!!"
137,000: Number of times Neal has rolled his eyes overhearing said squeals.
0: Times played Naked Lady Game this weekend. (Unfortunately.)
1: Legs broken probably broken on cowboy after being stomped on by bull. (This was really horrible.)
0: Number of paramedics on hand at event. (Even more horrible. Can you believe that? The poor guy just laid there forever.)
What goes, "Ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo?" "A cow with no lips.": Joke country station DJ just told me.
1: Number of laughs he got from that joke.
0: How many towels I brought with me Sunday, during my swim at a private resort I sneak onto weekly. Towels are provided poolside.
0: Number of towels available poolside Sunday.
-16: My approximate body temperature after swim, followed by laying in slightly chilly wind.
8: Hours of sleep I meant to get last night.
5: Acual hours of sleep, after being helplessly sucked into The Matrix AGAIN.
Moving on...
A Friday afternoon conversation:
Me: "So what do you wear to a Bull-Riding event?"
DJ: "Cowboy boots, cowboy hat, jeans, button-down denim shirts, vests."
(Silence)
Me: "OK, I don't own any clothing that has the word "Cowboy" as a modifier, and the only think I own on that list is jeans. What does a City Chick wear to a Bull-Riding event?"
DJ: "I don't know, dude."
[In case you're curious, I wore cropped blue pants, Sketchers, and a white tank top that has a little crown and the word "Princess" painted on it. Good enough.]
[People really DO wear those huge belt buckles! I couldn't believe it!]
I'm a little scattered this morning. A boat sank into the ocean last night, and some people have been found, some haven't. I'm having a hard time getting accurate info. There's kids involved, though, which is pretty sad. I'll let you know how it comes out tomorrow.
